On the path by the river there is a large patch of sand, a lasting reminder of the February flooding. The first time I ran through it I was taken by surprise at how hard it suddenly was to lift my feet and to keep going.

The last week has felt a bit like that on and off. Nothing has really changed, but it’s felt a bit harder, slower, and uneven. Maybe it’s weariness, or boredom, hormones or iron levels, anxiety or sadness. Whatever the cause, it feels like we’ve all just been finding the days take a bit more effort to plod through.

Saturday morning was a leisurely start. Micah decided to wear his Rugby Tots outfit for the day. 3 months on and 3 year olds still miss their activities. And even though many classes are running online, my small people aren’t big fans of trying to replace the real thing. But over the last week they’ve taken to wearing school uniform on random days, sports kits, beach clothes, and party dresses. If you can’t go there, pretend you are anyway!

Saturday afternoon Megan, Maisie and I met our friend and her daughter for a walk in the park. I love how if we talk about our social interactions now, it was ‘I went for a distance’. Just to clarify to anyone listening that we’re not rule-breakers, distance is now an action verb. Anyway, we stood our teenage daughters either side of the path to help them maintain their 2 metre gap. How on earth it will ever happen in school is beyond me! If 13 and 14 year olds are drawn to each other like magnets – ‘can I just give her my phone to show her something?’, if anyone could keep my 4 year old from touching his friends that would be a miracle.

So we walked. And we walked. And we walked. It turns out there was a lot to chat about. We did four laps of a mile long track. And then I ran in the evening. My health app told me I went from 3,500 steps on Friday to 17,500 on Saturday. I didn’t know the numbers went that high.

Clearly the key to getting me to exercise is to remove me from people for 3 months and then only allow us to walk outside.

The good thing was that I was pretty tired when it came to watching our Saturday night movie. I think being barely awake helped me get through the film. Tell me it improves after Ant Man?! Clearly Marvel isn’t really my thing. The worst part of the experience was dreaming about hordes of bugs the night after.

Sunday involved all the unplayed instruments being pulled out during the kids worship songs-clarinet, flute, penny whistle, harmonica…you can only imagine the delightful sounds coming forth. It’s a good job the Bible says ‘make a joyful noise’ and not ‘make a melodious noise’.

The Sunday school craft was to make perfume, based on the story of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with her precious perfume. So we went off on a walk/bike ride to find treasures to make perfume with. We came back with one child who’d ridden into a bush, one with a grazed knee, and the one allergic to stinging nettles had managed to find them. But we did also have a basketful of pretty and precious weeds, so that was counted a success!

It turns out when it comes to mixing with sticks, playing with food essences and colourings and putting it into a glass bottle, even the big kids can’t resist the fun.

Monday morning dawned again, and there were strong objections regarding any sort of learning. Even though bees are one of Maddie’s absolute favourite insects to read about-and she even had them on her dress, as soon as it became ‘schoolwork’, well, that was a different matter entirely. We did our best, she and I, playing a game in between writing a sentence. I lost Theo from the room completely whilst Micah loudly demanded more work, snacks, and attention.

So instead I opted for ‘PE’, and set up a bee trail. Which was marginally more successful. And then we took the rest of the day off.

I think part of finding the last week harder was feeling bad about finding it harder. But the more guilty I get, the harder it is to turn grumpiness into gratefulness.

Today I acknowledged just feeling down. To myself, to God, to Liam, to a good friend. And then I read a chapter of a book about the unchanging God. The same God I’ve been reading about in Exodus, who had a rescue plan for the Israelites, who heard their cries, who led them to safety and guided them with His presence. He’s the same God who had a rescue plan for His people, sending His Son to bring salvation and hope. And He’s the same God now. Who still has a plan. Who’s still hearing our cries. Who still gives hope and a promise of a future without pandemics and racism and death and brokenness. He loves with an everlasting love, and He will walk us by a river on a straight path, where He will keep us from stumbling on the sand.

2 ‘Thus says the LORD: “The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness; when Israel sought for rest,
3 the LORD appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you…

With weeping they shall come, and with pleas for mercy I will lead them back, I will make them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble, for I am a father to Israel, and Ephraim is my firstborn’. – Jeremiah 31:2-3,9