Christmas eve

Advent has been a busy time, not entirely to do with the much-anticipated events of Christmas morning. Snow days and bad colds have kept me from all sorts of things I would ordinarily have done by now, like sending Christmas cards and making truffles. We managed to get a few cards sent, but hope that Epiphany cards will do just as well this year.

Iain appeared in not one but two Christmas plays this year, once as a shepherd and once as a king. He preferred being a king, I think, although he mostly sat and stared somewhat vacantly during the performance. Not until the children started dancing did he really liven up.

Most of the Christmas-related events at Anna's school were cancelled because of the snow. She made a lovely Mary, though, in the children's play at our carols service at church. Everyone seemed amazed at Anna's ability to sit still, given her habit of disappearing into the chaplaincy or (once, famously) out the gate.

Thomas also did his share of dancing in his school nativity play. There may be better photos of him in his multicolored shepherd's outfit, but here he is surrounded by angels.

Hope you are surrounded by angels this Christmas, and filled with all the joy these angels (and shepherd) displayed as they celebrated Christ's coming as only children can.

Happy Christmas to all!

prayer time

I have grown to love nighttime prayers with the children. Fidgeting has dropped to a minimum, as Anna is usually very sleepy and traipses off to her room with daddy before we really get underway. Given the chance, she will always pray for all the kids in her class at school, and you can depend on her to remember someone we haven't seen in ages. (After we'd been in England for several months, she offered up a prayer for Fr Paddy, the priest at our church in Atlanta!)

Thomas is my chief intercessor, though. I know that he must keep abreast of current events at school, because he's always ready with a prayer for whatever crisis might be happening. He prayed for the miners in Chile consistently, and even remembered to thank God for their rescue. He also always remembers in prayer those who are in situations of war or disaster: the floods in Pakistan, the earthquake in Haiti, and the perennial difficulties around Africa. I am always amazed at how aware he is of what's going on in the world, and how concerned he is about people who are in need. He doesn't forget our priests, either. Although he has learned the neat shortcut of praying for all the priests of the diocese, he remembers Fr David Burrell, who was in Durham for several months last year, and Fr Anthony Meredith, who was saying Mass at Minster Abbey during the week we visited in the summer. Because Fr David is in Uganda, Thomas has added to his prayers the rest of the priests in Africa.

Of course how many of these prayers are uttered, and in what sort of detail, depends on how tired Thomas is on any given evening. But he's always bound to remember someone I've forgotten, or to surprise me by offering a prayer for a person or situation I wouldn't dream that he had in mind. A couple of nights ago, though, he blew me away completely. 'God bless all those people who don't have anyone to pray for them', he said.

Now that's a boy with a good heart, if ever there was one. So if you were thinking that nobody was praying for you, Thomas has got you covered. God bless him, and all the children who pray for us grown-ups. We need those prayers!

still there

I admit to being surprised, still, about the baby. But today I went for the 20-week ultrasound, and sure enough, there's a little heart beating away. Better still, that little heart has four perfect, lovely chambers and two valves that do exactly what they should do. I often wish that I didn't know what to look for in a heart ultrasound, but it is nice to know that I am seeing what I ought to be seeing. And baby has long bones (femurs, anyway) that are perfectly within the normal range. All good news, which is a relief.

Oh, and there isn't any indication that it's a boy. And we looked hard.

Mr Personality

When Iain was about three months old, our pediatrician in Atlanta commented on his attention-getting ability. Even in an infant car seat, Iain captivated an audience. 'Mr Personality', the doctor said. 'But then, if you're number three, you have to be, or you get parked in a corner'.

Tonight we sat after dinner, Iain on Lewis's lap, friends on either side, and listened to Iain talk. He had pretended to be a knight most of the day, protecting 'Queen Mummy' from the monsters, and inviting me to see the 'pond' in his room. (A round rug, actually, but that's Iain's imagination for you.) He kept us fairly well entertained, and clearly enjoyed having the floor.

And no, that picture wasn't taken today. We still have plenty of snow. But that's Iain, just being Iain.

more snow!

Although I took this photo on Monday morning, it doesn't look much different now. I wish I had been able to record the sheep, all of whom seemed to be bleating insistently. Whether they were advising me to go back inside or pleading with me to make it stop, I've no idea.

The kids think it's great that they haven't been at school all week. Interestingly, as the time has worn on, they've proven themselves more and more self-entertaining and able to play well together. (As soon as I say this, though, a fight will break out and they'll all start complaining that they're bored.) Thomas and Iain were acting out a story they made up (well, Thomas did most of the making-up) while Anna chose a dress from the dress-up clothes.

All the same, I will be glad when schools are open again. I have a vague memory of having been a lecturer in theology and ethics, and there's a book I am supposed to be finishing this month...