Wedding Speech: The Father of the Bride

 It is really great to be celebrating Esther and Rob’s wedding. It’s great also to know that, while this is a very special day in itself, it is also the start of something very new and special – a lifelong journey of relationship and commitment between Esther and Rob.

So here are a few tips for you, Rob, to help you as you get to know Esther, and some little gifts to get you started on your life together.

 

1. Esther is organised

 

Esther, like her mother, is very organised. This showed itself right from the moment of her birth. Helen recorded the following in her journal just after Esther was born:

‘[5 days before Esther’s birth] I started wondering when she would be born… She either had to be born before Saturday afternoon or after Sunday morning due to us hosting the youth group on Saturday evening and Pete leading the family service Sunday morning!’

As it was she was born on Monday morning.

That ability to be organised is something she definitely inherited from her mother, and has stuck with her ever since.esther132

I know Esther has been very organised and efficient in getting all the wedding preparations in hand, whilst graduating, starting a new job, moving to Nottingham. I’m sure everything has been carefully plotted out on the wedding spreadsheet.

I’m sure one of Esther’s abiding memories of her mother will be Helen wandering round, at all the different events she organised, with a clipboard in her hand, keeping everyone in order.

So here is a clipboard for you to use, Esther, to keep Rob and your house, your jobs, your finances in order.

 

2. Esther is sociable and outgoing, a missionary

 

esther057croppedI think both Helen and I are to blame for this, particularly through taking her off to Cambodia when she was only 1 year old. When we returned to Bristol, one of Esther’s favourite occupations was to sit on the pavement outside our house: ‘Where are all the people?’

I think this passion for reaching out to other people, engaging with anyone, whatever their background, is something you both share. But, a word of warning – you never know quite where that might take you. So, just in case you end up going to Asia on some mad missionary adventure, here is a Kromar. It is an amazingly versatile piece of cotton: you can use it as a turban (though that may be tricky for Rob); a sarong; a loincloth; a sun-shield; face-mask; a baby-carrier; a nappy; a tablecloth, dishcloth…

 

 

3. Esther is easily pleased and places a high value on simple family life

 

When she was about 4 or 5 we went to a friend’s 18th birthday party and Esther confidently told us that she knew what she would like for her 18th birthday – a Barbie toothbrush. So that is what she got. I thought I would follow that up by getting two matching toothbrushes for you.

However, the high value she places on simplicity means img_2047that sometimes she can be oblivious to the finer things in life like vintage wines or whiskies. This was highlighted for me just recently when Esther was clearing out her room at home to move to Nottingham. She had put out a number of boxes of clothes and odd bits and pieces to give away to charity. In one of them were some jewellery boxes with cheap plastic necklaces and bracelets from Claires. I thought I would have a look through to see if there were any that might be suitable for Lois’ young grandchildren and came across the Sidebotham family Carnelian necklace among them!

 

4. Esther can be stubborn; she knows what she likes

img_2053When we moved from Bristol to Coventry, Esther wasn’t impressed. She reminded us of this regularly. ‘You’re making me do my piano practice and you made me move to Coventry’

So don’t be surprised if she comes out with things over which she is not prepared to give ground, or if she reminds you of the sacrifices she has made for you! When she does, you can remind her that the choices have been mutual with this I Love Nottingham mug.

 

 

5. Esther loves building bridges

This has a number of implications. You will see this in the way she reaches out to other people, and in the way she engages with some of the hard questions of justice, truth and confronting the world’s problems.

But first and foremost, she is an engineer at heart – inherits this from both her mother and grandfather. She loves the intellectual challenge and the practical application, and has clearly loved getting stuck into her new job rebuilding the A14.

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She has her heart set on a career in Engineering, and you will both need to work out how you balance that with your married life, family, church involvement and Rob’s career.

It is worth taking an interest in her work, go out of your way to understand and support it. So I have got you a specially adapted hard hat, so you can visit her on site.

 

6. Esther is someone for whom following Jesus is absolutely central to all she does

 

I have loved seeing that develop in Esther as she has grown, and it is something I have seen in Rob too, so it is my prayer for both of you that this will continue to grow and develop in your life together.

So my final gift is not a new one, but a copy of my book in which I summed up my prayer for you, Esther, as you left home, and now I pray for both of you.

Esther, for 24 years I have watched you grow and develop into a beautiful young woman. Now, as you set off on a new stage in your journey, I pray that you and Rob together will discover more and more what it means, not to leave your childhood behind, but to hold on to that childhood, and through that to enter more fully into God’s wonderful kingdom, here and now.

 

Earlier, Valerie and I prayed a blessing over Esther and Rob:

Jesus, do for Esther and Rob as you did in Cana of Galilee. Take the old water, their ordinary individual lives, and turn them into gospel wine.

 

That is a dangerous prayer.

It will mean that you will go against the tide of popular ambition and culture, not seeking the wealth, comfort, position or pleasure that ultimately fails to fill that gap in who we were created to be. Rather, you will, together, discover more of your creativity, of the gifts you have been given. You will use your minds to learn, to explore, and to discover. You will find new ways to celebrate and enjoy the goodness of this world and of each other.

It will mean, too, that you will seek to love your neighbours as yourselves. You will strive for justice and extend compassion to those in need. You will reach out and be there for others.

In doing so, you will make yourselves vulnerable.

But you will also be strong, because you will be following this journey together, you will be supported by your family and all your friends, and you will be held in the arms of God who loves you both.

 

So I hope you will all join me in wishing all the goodness, challenge and celebration embedded in that simple blessing, for Esther and Rob.

esther-and-rob

 

 

Father of the Bride to be…

A week from now it will all be over. My duties as the father of the bride discharged: my speech delivered, the bank transfers completed; my little Esther – whom I have watched grow and develop over all these years – no longer just my little girl, but a grown, married woman.

 

 

 

And I will be left to wonder where those years have gone, to reflect back – with love and joy, pride and wonder – on all those wonderful times when I have held her close, celebrated her achievements, laughed at her antics, agonised over her struggles, and cried with her heartaches.

I will look ahead too, to the wonderful new journey she and Rob are setting out on: a lifelong pilgrimage of joys and sorrows, fun and hard work. I will pray with hope that their journey will be a good one, that they will know the blessings I have known both with Helen over all those years, and now with Lois: the tender moments; the shared struggles; the celebrations.

But for now, I am still the father of the bride to be. So I will wipe away those tears, put the finishing touches to my speech, check our last minute preparations, and look forward to a very special day.

On watching my children move away from home

 

Last week, my daughter Esther cleared up everything in her room (well almost), packed it into her car, and left home to start her new life as a working and soon-to-be-married woman in Nottingham.

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This week, while I am engaging with child protection specialists from around the world at the ISPCAN congress in Calgary, my son Joe, has cleared up his room and set off for his new life as a working man in Harpenden.

My two children – those little babies whom I held so close in tender moments of fatherly love; or threw into the air, screaming with delight; those lively, growing individuals with whom I shared fun family games, and exciting holidays; those independent, strong personalities who caused such anguish with their stroppy moods and sullen teenage grunts.

As I helped Esther carry boxes down to her car, and again this morning as I sent an email to Joe, I found myself once more in a jumble of emotions: fatherly pride at the amazing young people they have grown to be; tears of nostalgia, joy and heartache as I think back on their wonderful childhoods and all we shared as a family; sadness that Helen isn’t here to share it with me and to encourage them on their way; strong hopes for their futures and all those hold: all the love, the joy and the pain of being a parent.

260 Joe the graduate IMG_1996

And I shall return to a different home and a new phase of our family life – filled with a sense of blessing at the privilege I have been given to be a father.

 

Proud Dad moments

And 21 years later…

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Praesento vobis hos viros at has mulieres quos scio tam moribus quam doctrina esse idoneos ad gradum assequendum Baccalaurei in Artibus…

 

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Counting my blessings: why is life so unfair?

Over the past few weeks I have once again been realising just how immensely privileged I am:

 

 

  • I have two quite amazing children who continue to be a source of love and pride
  • I have a really wonderful, loving wife with whom I can share this incredible life
  • I have a secure and enjoyable job which is meaningful and worthwhile, and which I truly love
  • I work with some inspiring colleagues who are passionate and committed to doing the best for children and families
  • I am extremely fortunate to know some exceptional friends, here in Coventry and around the world, who are prepared to stand up for what they believe – for truth, justice, peace and compassion – even when that brings criticism or personal hardship
  • I earn far more than I need, and have never had to experience the anxiety of not knowing where my next meal will come from, or how I am going to pay the next month’s bills
  • I am fit and healthy and able to enjoy the beauty of the world we live in, the joy of good companionship, and moments of peace and rest
  • I have never had to experience the terror of violence or abuse
  • Even in the awful grief of Helen’s death 4 years ago, and of my sister, Mei Ling before that, I have been surrounded by people who care for me and have held me through the difficult times

 

So, somehow, I have to live with the perplexity of why I have been so blessed while so many people, including some of my own friends have not been.

I pray that I may never take any of this for granted, as somehow being my right; that I will be able to enjoy and be grateful for the blessings I have received, while holding them lightly and in humility; and that perhaps in some small ways, I may be able to bless others too.

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How not to be a spiritual bottom-shuffler: growing in Christ-like spirituality

Jesus called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matt 18:3)

 

This is surely one of the most challenging and puzzling statements made by Jesus.

So it was an inspiring challenge to talk on this at a Christian Medical Fellowship breakfast at the Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health annual scientific meeting in Liverpool. Here’s a little synopsis of some of the key points we discussed together.

 

If becoming like a little child is an absolute prerequisite to entering the kingdom of heaven, what does it mean to change and become like little children?

Although there were a lot of qualities identified (fun, innocence, trust, wonder, creativity, exploration, dependency…) I chose to focus on three essential qualities of little children:

  • Vulnerability
  • Belovedness
  • Transformation

 

Vulnerability

Children are vulnerable: dependent on their parents/carers; not independent.

They are themselves, they haven’t put up masks.

They need nurture, protection, care

That, perhaps is our starting point if we are to ‘enter the kingdom of heaven’: we may end up in a state of vulnerability/humility because of our circumstances: bereavement, illness, burn-out… Or we may choose to embrace such vulnerability/humility. Perhaps that is what Jesus meant by saying ‘take up your cross’. We can choose to open ourselves up to the pains of our hurting world.

Whichever route we take, it will be painful. We have to acknowledge that we are dependent, that we can’t solve everything – either for ourselves or for others

For me, two important parts of my journey have been my time in Cambodia in the early 1990s: coming face to face with suffering, poverty, exploitation and injustice in a way that was truly heart-breaking and with which I was forced to acknowledge that I was powerless to change; and then the very personal vulnerability I experienced in 2011-12 when I experienced a mini-stroke and then, six months’ later, the sudden and unexpected death of my first wife, Helen.

 

Belovedness

However, both those periods, and particularly the latter were also times when I experienced an overwhelming awareness of my own belovedness: recognising that I am a beloved child of God, and that, even through all the pain and turmoil, I could know the security of being loved.

And that is the second key child-like quality that I think is an essential prerequisite of being a part of God’s kingdom: unless something is seriously wrong with their parents, all children are beloved. Every new parent believes their baby is beautiful. I see that time and time again when I spend time with families, even with families who are going through really challenging circumstances: almost without exception it is abundantly clear that they love their children, and in those rare cases where that isn’t present, it is very clear that something is seriously wrong.

 

Transformation

The third essential quality of a child is that they are always changing: growing and developing; they do not stay still. Children develop: physically, mentally, socially, spiritually. And that can happen safely when they are loved, and out of a starting point of vulnerability. So we, too, if we are to be a part of God’s kingdom can’t stagnate and think that we’ve made it. We need to change, to be transformed.

And we, who with unveiled faces, all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Cor 3:18)

 

Spiritual Bottom-shufflers?

So where does the bottom shuffling come in? This excerpt from Growing up to be a child sums it up:

A heavenly paediatricianAs a paediatrician, I am often referred young children who are delayed in their development, including those who are slow in learning to walk. Sometimes there is a genuine underlying medical disorder preventing them from acquiring those skills. These children typically fall into one of two broad groups: those with low muscle tone (hypotonia) and those with high muscle tone (hypertonia).

Children with hypotonia have weak, floppy muscles which are unable to support their weight effectively. We find this, for example, in children with Down syndrome. Those with hypertonia, such as children with some forms of cerebral palsy, have stiff, inflexible muscles. They find it equally difficult to walk, but for different reasons: their muscles, though stiff, are still weak, and they cannot easily achieve the coordination and balance to stand upright.

When I am assessing a young child’s ability to stand and walk, I need to provide him with support and a stable base so he feels secure. In order to do this, I typically sit or kneel on the floor, with the child sitting between my legs, his back to me. When the child is sitting like that, he feels secure and safe. Those with high muscle tone often relax, enabling me to move their legs and assess the muscle strength.

Once I have the child properly relaxed, I will gently lift him to a more upright position, his trunk still supported against me, my arms around him, keeping him from falling. In that position, the child can feel secure and is able to take some weight on his legs, perhaps even taking some preliminary, supported steps.

I often think of God being like that with me. In my spiritual development, I may feel weak and hypotonic, unable to stand up in the face of difficult challenges. Or I may try too hard, my hypertonic spiritual muscles getting in the way of my attempts to go forward. I may feel insecure and afraid of falling or getting things wrong, or I may have already been hurt by life’s events and be feeling a bit bruised and battered. In all those situations, I picture God as a heavenly paediatrician, holding me securely in his embrace, giving me the strength and courage to take those first, tentative steps.

That is the picture conveyed by Hosea’s passionate words of God’s love for the people of Israel: ‘It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms’.[1] God is someone we can trust, who will not let us fall. Secure in God’s loving embrace, we can step out, even into the hardest of situations.

 Bottom shufflers

But we need to take those steps. Often, with children I assess for developmental delay, there is no underlying medical problem. It is simply that they are taking longer than other children to get there.

One of the commonest reasons for this delay is children who, instead of learning to walk, are quite happy shuffling about on their bottoms. These ‘bottom-shufflers’ can sometimes get about at incredible speeds. They are quite content being able to explore their world from the secure base of their bottoms. Why bother to stand up and risk getting hurt if you can get about satisfactorily on your bottom?

We, in our spiritual lives, may be similar. We are content to stay on our bottoms, accepting a gentle and non-threatening spirituality. But God doesn’t want us to stay there. He wants us to stand, to walk, to run. We need to take the risk. We need to step out and accept the falls and bumps that brings, secure in the knowledge of God’s overarching love for us.

And, like a young toddler learning to walk, when we do fall over, we don’t need to stay there. God gives us both the ability and the motivation to get up and walk again.

 

[1] Hosea 11:3.

On seeing my daughter in her wedding dress

Two days ago I walked into our lounge to see my beautiful daughter, Esther, standing in her newly-bought wedding dress. Radiant.

And I had to leave the room.

Overcome by crushing emotions.

 

 

 

Does every father go through this intense turmoil? With Esther, 2012What a mix of feelings: pride; incredible joy; hope; fears; love; nostalgia; wonder; sadness; love. Above all, love.

I thought back to that moment, 23 years ago, when I had helped ease her into this world; to the many times I had sat with her on my knees, gazing into her eyes, or holding her close in a loving cuddle.

 

But that, my dear Esther, was nothing compared to the wonder of your birth: to help ease you out into the world, watch you fill your lungs and let out your first cry, cut the cord that had kept you alive those nine months, and pass you up to your mum, knowing that you were my daughter.    Growing up to be a child, p3

 

Esther 1993I pondered in wonder how I had watched her grow and develop: taking her first hesitant steps; learning to use her hands; chattering away in beautiful baby babble; giggling in delight at games of peek-a-boo and round and round the garden.

And now, my little child, no longer a child, stood before me, resplendent. A stunning, grown woman, soon to be a bride.

 

 

She could have been her mother. Twenty eight years ago Helen, unseen by me, had tried on her wedding dress and no doubt brought tears to her father’s eyes. Perhaps Helen, too, in a greater light, is joining her heart with mine: filled with hopes for our daughter’s future; knowing that it is her journey now, with Rob; that it will have its share of joy and pain, laughter and tears; trusting that they will learn to love and cherish each other even more as the years go by; and blessing them with our undying love.

 

 

Six months from now I will walk down an aisle, my beautiful daughter on my arm. And once more my heart will be torn: filled with that incredible jumble of emotions, and that painful privilege which is to be a father.

To a semi-circle 2: seeking joy

Rainbow over Tanay, Manila
Rainbow over Tanay, Manila

 

I greet you once again – transected;

put asunder, rent in twain.

This sudden loss – so unexpected;

fullness fractured, comfort slain.

Those shadowed hours creep, oh so slowly.

Earth’s deep pain: a silent roar.

We see in part that thing, most holy

promise of a brighter shore.

 

 

Tears of grief rain down, unbaden

the sun, concealed, completes her arc.

The dove returns once more, unladen,

weary of the lingering dark.

Till from aloft the lookout shouts, “Ahoy!”

The half-bow that we see against the rain

is but a herald of a world made whole again.

 

Helen making rainbows in the waterfall at Tanay, Manila, January 2012
Helen making rainbows in the waterfall at Tanay, Manila, January 2012