but she can be just as silly as ever.
She still enjoys cooking
and loves her little brother very much.
She graduated from primary school
(much more fancily than in my day)
and started secondary school, which she loves.
From this
to this in just a few short months!
That's our girl.
I easily forget what it means to have the Bible in my own language. Hilary Mantel writes about a time when the Bible became available to ordinary people in 16th century England (the 'he' is Thomas Cromwell):The London gardens are bright with berries. There is an obdurate winter ahead. But he feels a force ready to break, as spring breaks from the dead tree. As the word of God spreads, the people’s eyes are opened to new truths. Until now, like Helen Barre, they knew Noah and the Flood, but not St Paul. They could count over the sorrows of our Blessed Mother, and say how the damned are carried down to Hell. But they did not know the manifold miracles and sayings of Christ, nor the words and deeds of the apostles, simple men who, like the poor of London, pursued simple wordless trades. The story is much bigger than they ever thought it was.From Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall, p. 515-6.
He says to his nephew Richard, you cannot tell people just part of the tale and then stop, or just tell them the parts you choose. They have seen their religion painted on the walls of churches, or carved in stone, but now God’s pen is poised, and he is ready to write his words in the books of their hearts.
Andy (4) is trying to figure out what God is like.
In my mind there is the one way. Her house is clean and uncluttered. Her washing is neatly folded and placed in tidy drawers. Her children are well-behaved (and if they're not, she has her discipline system all worked out, and applies it without anger and with consistency). She gets up at 6 every morning to read her Bible and pray. She's a brilliant cook, turning out healthy meals and home-made cakes. Her family eats with candles and napkins, and discusses helpful topics as they use their knives and forks. There's no pile of un-dealt-with school notices and ancient-things-she-meant-to-get-to-years-ago next to her phone. 
Protestant writer and theologian John Frith has been condemned to die for his faith. Thomas Cromwell - ever the pragmatist, though sympathetic to the reformers - is trying to convince him to recant: 'They will burn you.'John Frith was burned at the stake on July 4, 1533. He was 30 years old.
'And you think I cannot bear the pain. You are right, I cannot. But they will give me no choice. As More says, it hardly makes a man a hero, to agree to stand and burn once he is chained to a stake. I have written books and I cannot unwrite them. I cannot unbelieve what I believe. I cannot unlive my life.'
I'm relieved to see that Meredith is also behind on her family Bible Easter readings! I, too, have put Meredith's readings in some plastic eggs (along with some lollies) and we're reading the Easter story together in the evenings. It's the first time we've attempted this. I've doubled- and tripled-up the readings to fit them into 12 eggs, which isn't ideal, but it's been very encouraging nonetheless. 
I'm also behind on my personal Easter Bible readings (like Nicole and Meredith, I'm reading through Nancie Guthrie's Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross) and again, I'm reading a couple a day. I've been deeply encouraged by reading through the Easter story with the kids in the evening, then opening this book in the morning and meditating on the wonder of Jesus' death. 
New York by Edward Rutherfurd. My friend Emma introduced me to this epic novel of the history of New York, as seen through the eyes of the generations of a family. I learned stacks of American history, but never boringly! Rutherford tells the story of one individual through several chapters, then picks up the story of another (a son, a grandson, a nephew) until the novel reaches the recent past. I look forward to reading London, which by all accounts is even better.
Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel. Recommended by my sister-in-law Kath, this winner of the Booker prize tells the (first half of the) story of Thomas Cromwell (yes, a sequel is coming, but not yet - *sigh*), who rose from lowly beginnings to became chief advisor to Henry VIII. I particularly enjoyed the sympathetic portrayal of Protestant martyrs like Ridley, Latimer and Tyndale. Neither a bodice-ripper nor a yawn-fest, this lyrical, skillfully-written historical novel is a very satisfying read.
At Home: A Short History of Domestic Life by Bill Bryson. Having read and loved A Short History of Nearly Everything, when I saw this book in Target (of all places), I raced home and put it on hold at our library. Tired of telling the story of everything, Bryson thought the history of domestic life would be simpler and more constrained - which of course it wasn't. This rambly book is packed with bizarre details like the disgusting toilet habits of Queen Elizabeth's royal party, the hazardous history of beauty treatments, and the importance of salt and pepper.
What have I learned, 3 months into this quieter year? Here are 10 things God has taught me so far: 
Hi everyone! Here I am, back again, blogging. It feels odd to be sitting here at the keyboard, sending my thoughts out into the ... well, into wherever it is that blog posts go. 
