Salt and pepper
Shoes and socks
Bacon and eggs
Fish and chips
Macaroni and cheese
Twiddle dee and twiddle dum
Rod and Mez

Some things just go together.

There were a variety of people there – some were experts,
some were rookies, like us…
and there were some rookies who acted like experts… also us.

It was a great exhibition, but it wasn't easy to appreciate the greatness.

There were a lot of distractions – people getting selfies, crowds pushing past you, people with screaming babies… (not ours, she slept through most of it).

I didn’t want anyone’s help with ideas
or transport
or logistics
or setting up – it was all on me.
I didn't want anyone else to know (other than her parents); I wanted it to be our special moment.

That meant that I took an expensive cab ride home from the proposal location, so my car was ready to go when we got there.
And that the picnic I had planned to set up before Mez arrived, didn’t quite happen in time.
I also had to lie to Mez and leave her at a pub, in order to escape and start the proposal plan.

But those details didn't matter,
she said yes.
I'm glad I could make it special, but I also could have used some help.

I wonder whether you go through life trying to do it all on your own.
Our culture is relentless in its pursuit and praise of self-sufficiency.
It’s seen as a developmental achievement for children.
It’s a ‘coming of age’ moment for teenagers / when you’re 26 and you finally move out of home…
And it’s a sign of success for those in their adult years.


A strong view of self is a good thing –
we are made in good and to do good.
We're made to flourish and live in confidence…
but not at the cost of dependence.
Not for the promotion of self.

We’ve taken something good and run wild with it.

I just write in it when I feel led to; when a thought comes to mind or I want to share something with her. 

The other day I wrote a whole lot of things I love about her and things that she does. Then at the end I wrote this:

I love it that you are you and you are completely living that. That you don't care what anyone thinks. You just do what you do and you love that. Don't stop doing that!! I love all the things you do, even the things I wish you did less, because they make you you. And I love you!

That evening I was reading Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist and I read something very similar to what I wrote to my baby girl – but for me...


God says to the snow, "Fall on the earth." That's it. Just do one thing. Just fall. And then he says to the rain shower, "Be a mighty downpour." Essentially, he's saying: just do the one thing I've actually created you to do. You're rain: so rain. You're snow: so snow.

I love the simplicity of that, the tremendous weight that takes off my shoulders. God's asking me to the thing he's already created me to be. And he's asking you to be the thing he's already created for you to be.

She goes on to ask what things he has made me to do – what comes effortlessly and easily? What things have I always loved and bring and joy and fulfilment? Do them!

What do you love? What do you do effortlessly and easily? What brings you joy and fulfilment? Do that! 
Just do the one thing that I've actually created you to do. Stop comparing, stop striving; be you.

Our baby is six months old. We cannot believe where the time has gone and how she has grown. Six months is a bit of a milestone and it's caused me to reflect a lot.
I'm ready for her to grow; little is too little.

For the last couple of months, people keep telling me how small she is. They say, "I forget how tiny they are. She's so little. Look at her mini feet."

When I look at her, all I can see is how big she is and how she has grown.
I can see who she is becoming.
Who she was is a vague memory because who she is now is so different; she's so big, she can do so much, she's come so far. She's turning into a little girl. I can imagine her future.


People look at us, or we look at ourselves, and all we can see is our limitations, our insignificance, our smallness. We see what we cannot do.

When God looks at us, I think he can see who we are becoming. He can see how far we've come and where we're heading. He can see how we've changed and what we can do through him.


I find myself getting defensive – I realise, unnecessarily –

He's protective of his children and doesn't want us to be seen for how small they are or what they cannot do.

I want to see people through God's eyes.

I don't want to see how small they are.
I want to see who they really are; see their potential, forget their past and look forward to who they are becoming.