My Faith, My Sin, God's Plan

 
 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
 
Lush green mountains, rows of terraced houses, and memories of coal spread across each valley in South Wales. Each terraced house, front doors wide open, kids playing in the road with no worry of what was coming around the corner. No strangers in any street, even if they had just moved in. The town bustling on a Saturday with the market, local bank, post office, and every shop you would need to serve a community.
 
Sunday, that same community turned to God, Sunday best, meat on, ready to finish off after the service and off to see Father Thomas and friends sing.
 
That’s the way, sing to him, that was the valley's natural way to worship. The rhythm of voices together, in tune, in time, and as one. It was a community a congregation, no secrets between them just friendship.
 
The Welsh voice, even when spoken in English, sings, regardless of how harsh the words are; it’s ‘swynol’. It dances around; the words make patterns that you follow; colors and shapes dance; it has rhythm.
 
My Welshness is part of my DNA, like my faith, it had always been there, it just may have taken years to appreciate how valuable it was.
 
I was one of those kids who played on the streets, I can’t remember worrying about much, I had my family around me and friends and was blessed with parents who loved me. They always provided for me and my sister. I was the youngest and felt that I had to put up with her as she came first.
 
We never had money, and I can’t remember any of my friends having money, so unlike today, we were all even equal in our want to play, walk the mountains, and entertain ourselves with no money involved. So glad I was born at this time, I would have been a victim of social media these days, I was big-boned, had red hair, and had a slightly fiery temper!
 
I enjoyed school and did ok, nothing to write home about but ok. I had great friends through school and enjoyed the social aspect probably more than the actual learning. I have always loved being around people, not good on my own.

 My mother was a faithful servant, and I was blessed to have her surround me with the familiarity of God. She wasn’t brought up in a Christian strong family, I can’t remember them being part of the community that stuck to the Sunday traditions, my mother was alone in her faith.
 
She was unique in her younger days, a miner's daughter going to university in the city, from the valleys to study Theology, and she lectured later at that university. A girl from a working-class family in the valleys didn’t have opportunities, she was gifted, she loved books, and her grandmothers and aunties wanted my mother to excel and use her talent.
 
She loved learning and enjoyed the process of researching and asking questions, she was sprung into a grammar school and catapulted into a different world. She had a group of talented friends who would later in life be some leading personalities in theatre, ministry, and politics. The Valley version of Eton, but still had manners.
 
She would tell me stories of acting in school plays and comedy dramas, she was pretty, very striking, and sounded like someone I would want to be friends with.
That version of my mother I never got to see and sure she was still fun growing up, she always had friends I just wasn’t lucky enough to see what everyone else sore, carefree and fun.
 
Her theology teacher had inspired her, and that’s how she found her faith, perhaps that was her ‘dove’ moment that propelled her into chapel. I have never had that conversion about faith, one of the most important to have, to this day I have never asked.
 
My mother's father was the head of the family, my grandfather was like the pipper, and kids just clung to him. He was a strong miner, my earliest memories were of us all climbing the mountains, soggy tomato sarnies in the bag, and out for hours exploring. He would tell us stories of his 9 brothers, they were like my paps, tall, strong, and athletic. When they were younger, they all played football together and nearly made up the whole team. He was the best, paps was loving, he was entertaining, he was part of the community, and he was always on hand for help. He lived a great life and he and Nan were together for 60 years. He left a gap in the family when cancer took him and an irreplaceable gap in me. He was a hard benchmark for any man in my life to live up to.
He was not of faith, but I know God took him without hesitation because he was perfect in my eyes.
 
My father was laid back, didn’t judge or force any opinions on people, and sometimes was too laid back for my mother. He was from a loving family with three sisters, and his father had died when he was young, so he was surrounded by women. He was loved very much and looked after as the youngest. They had moved from Belfast when my nan was pregnant with him; the sisters were very noticeable with their burning red hair and possibly the reactions that you would stereotypically think of with redheads; perhaps that is why he was so laid back; he knew he couldn’t win.
 
My father, unlike my mother, had grown up in faith. Irish catholic family, and my nan and his sisters were great believers. Thank goodness the lord forgives as all sisters found it hard to keep a man. Forgiveness took longer for my nan.
For some reason, this was lost on my father, who never showed any signs of buckling under the pressure, even to this day, a non-believer.

 My sister Racheal was older than me; we were close, and both went to Sunday school without fail every week. My father never attended. 
 
Rachael probably didn’t see the benefits of Sunday school; in comparison, I saw a weekly chance to get on stage, singing, acting, and just basically making the most of an audience. I am sure that God missed out on a secret ingredient of talent when I was in his thoughts; I should be on stage now!
 
As I became a teenager, Racheal spent less time at home and out with her boyfriend, and I berried myself into books.
I Loved Harry Potter, I mean the books were magical, taking what was an ordinary boy in a cul-de-sac and all the time he was the magical wizard. The adventures, the characters, the train, the friendships, all of it I loved, and I escaped and morphed into these books on every occasion.
 
Rachael spends her time having a quiet life. She and Don met whilst she was at university in America. She had always dreamed of living the American dream. She wanted more than the green valleys had to offer her. She loved watching American sitcoms when we were younger and believed the American dream was for all. And she did; she had her American dream, she graduated in Law, met her husband, and they both worked hard in the city defending the indefensible. Rachael was motivated by money, which was the gain in all situations. Now she is on a ranch in Montreal, probably burnt out by all the time spent making money out of others' misery, pleading for forgiveness.
 
My parents are still very much here, leading their separate lives; they divorced when I was 11, and it wasn’t that bad. To be honest, I do try and look at the positives in every situation, and regrettably, I still the benefits of two Christmases and didn’t think beyond that.
 
It's always easier to look at the positives, and when you are young, that’s a luxury, I had even when my parents were not having the best of times. I remember even years after they had divorced, my dad would always take any opportunity to contact my mother, and I don’t know if he loved her more or if he was able to show love; this is something that never easily came to my mother, for dad heart on sleeve something that I inherited.
 
 I am unsure when the saying Ruth ‘nearly’ Jenkins started, but it stuck through life. It was a reminder that however much I tried, I was hungry for life and brave enough to give anything a go it never quite worked. I was always ‘nearly’ chosen as captain of the netball team in school, ‘nearly’ got the angel part in the nativity play in the chapel, and ‘nearly’ was well selected as prefect in the sixth form.
 
Aside from the ‘nearly,’ I was blessed with a great childhood, family, and friends. Life was basic but full; it was normal. It changed when I moved from familiar surroundings, family, and the community I knew.
 
I can’t blame anyone else for the Sins you are about to hear, and I don’t think I am alone in my story.
 
It is a story of hope, good intentions, and survival; we all try and fail and then try again until we get some happiness, and then we try and forget the past. Our journey of how we get there is different; some don’t find happiness, and some don’t have the luxury.
 
What I failed to see at times is the blessing I did have even in the darkest moments; sometimes, looking so far forward, you can’t see the good stuff you have, not knowing God was working daily for me.
 
What was God's plan for me? He gave me a great start in life, so why did he allow me to fail so much after this?
 
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
 
 
 

Time to Let Go – Thou shall not kill.
 
I think of all the commandments, this is a clear standout one that can only be forgiven by God. 
 
From the Old Testament in the very beginning, there are references to this
 
·       Exodus 20:13 ESV / 5,439 helpful votes “You shall not murder.
·       Deuteronomy 5:17 ESV / 2,979 helpful votes “‘You shall not murder.
·       Matthew 5:21 ESV / 2,407 helpful votes “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’
·       Exodus 21:14,20,29 But if a man come presumptuously upon his neighbour, to slay him with guile; thou shalt take him from mine altar, that he may die…
·       Genesis 4:8-23 And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him…
 
Some are clearer than others for me, and as I have little education on the bible, the verse from Mathew, and probably most well-known to all, is the standout one; there is no way you can miss interoperate this one. These are the words of Jesus; he was the re-set button to show us all how to live a life in faith. He is a hard benchmark to follow, but even so, with this commandment at large, this is one that most obey.
 
I was 17 when I broke this commandment. I was so young, not just in age but in my understanding of the world. I had just left school, working in a local shop, and
It probably was pennies by the time my then-boyfriend Evan finished raiding my bank account.
 
I was spontaneous, led with my heart rather than my head, and quick to act rather than think first. Those qualities made me ‘full of life’ six months before, and then I left home and was living in a bed with Evan.
 
Evan was a charmer, although I hadn’t had much experience, if any, with boys, let alone men. He was 7 years older, and so I had fallen for a man. I could see some of the signs early on, but I was happy that he gave me a second look. You wouldn’t instantly notice him and think he is good-looking, but after he made you laugh and charmed his way into a conversation, most girls started to warm to him.
 
I warmed to him too much; I warmed to the idea of an older boyfriend, had a car, and worked in a nightclub in the city, and I thought at that time that none of my friends had a boyfriend like this. I had written this story in my head within weeks, and of course, there is always a crisis in any good story; I didn’t realize that he was the crisis. It's only when you are older and have a chance to look back and think, why did you not see It?
 
I was still living at home so trying to see Evan was hard without totally disappointing my mother. I don’t think I fell in love instantly with Evan, and I fell in love with the idea of leaving home.
 
My stepfather was ok, but me and Racheal were always in the way. When he and mam married, our lives changed in a second, from two up, two down terraces to a massive house miles away from the valleys.
 
 
They talked differently, young farmers and they all had posh cars and went to private school, a world I had never been a part of and now I was expected to be so very thankful that I had been given this gift of opportunity, well I never asked for it or wanted it.
 
We had to go to the golf club every Saturday for dinner; we had money, a nice car, and a life that my mother could only dream of, she would never be able to get this on her own, and now she was living it. We had been taken out of the despair of the valleys; we had been saved. That’s what everyone thought when we attended these dinners, the outsiders. The thing is, I never wanted to be saved; I loved my home, the valleys; it catches you, the mountains surround you and give you that blanket of safety. I liked who I was back there, and now I was looking for any way to get out of this new world.
 
My mother fell in love, simply, and looking back, she didn’t demand that we all embrace the new life; she just shared opportunities for me and Racheal that we would never have had, perhaps in the valleys. Our first attack on this change was staying in our school in the valleys, which we were allowed to do, so, I still had my friends and kept the link with home.
 
Racheal was older, so she could stay in the valleys with friends and her amazing boyfriend our family loved their family, and they were perfect for each other, so that meant that she didn’t come home that often. Although she didn’t enjoy our new life, she was more subtle than I was in showing it and distanced herself; my stepfather welcomed this, one less person to deal with.
 
He wasn’t a bad man; he was in love with my mother, almost too in love. He was an only child and had no children of his own and just one failed marriage, as my mother had. He came from a family of wealth; he had always had money and never probably felt the ‘pinch’ when everybody else I knew did. Success, friends, family, and work surrounded him. He was an accountant, and yes, as the cliché goes, he wasn’t the most entertaining to live with. In his own jokey way, he would remind us that he had saved us from the slums as a teenager that was brushed away, but I know it made me love the valleys even more just out of spite.
 
In a matter of weeks, I had pushed my mother to the edge, and demands of me to stop seeing Evan came thick and fast. I was going out nearly every night to see him at the club. I was just there at the end of the bar, awaiting any attention I got from him, and he did; he was a show off in every way. I didn’t see the flirting and attention he gave every woman he served for what it was. I didn’t even say a thing when he went on breaks with other women. I was completely dumb, and I mean dumb.
 
One night, a friend from school came with me. I was showing off in a way, but it didn’t backfire on me. She looked shocked and not in a good way; why are you with him? Do you not see him with the other girls,” he is just taking the piss out of you, and you are sat here like a lap dog waiting.” In good old Ruth style, I answered, he must flirt to get more tips, and he really loves me. It's Shakespeare in a bottle.
 
He showed his true colors early on; we were walking to the car after he had done a shift; it had been a few weeks into our ‘relationship’; Evan spent days in the gym and was a strong man. I had offended him by smoking on the way back to the car; he hated smoking, and although he had mentioned it on several occasions, his reaction that night was extreme. It was a combination of his boss bringing him into the office to ask about the taking being down that week and me, perhaps, wrong place, wrong time.
 
The push came from behind me; I was halfway through my cigarette, and the force made me stumble into the side of the car park wall; he pushed my face into the wall and whispered that I was never to smoke again. I thought at the time that it was extreme to ask me to put out the cigarette; now, well, if that happened, it would be the first and the last time any man would do that. I can’t blame being young on why I accepted that as ok; I was embarrassed and shocked at what had happened; I couldn’t process this. I had never seen violence in my family and didn’t know how to act.
 
I moved in with him a week later; he didn’t apologize for what he did. He just loved me for a bit, and that was enough. I left school and started working at the local corner shop, I moved back to the valleys, his valley. It was a bedsit, disgusting, dirty, obviously small, and lonely.
 
Evan spent his days at the gym during the day and the club at night; sometimes, he wouldn’t even come home; he would stay at a mate’s house. Evan never had money, or what money he did have, he would use to ‘bulk’ himself up for the gym, steroids, and food. I went to the club over the months occasionally; he wasn’t as charming now; he spent his breaks feeding the gambling machines. It was so bad that he didn’t even flirt with the girls anymore.
 
It was a small blessing; thank the lord, I had amazing company with the only three DVDs I had: Dirty Dancing, Only Fools and Horses, and Faulty Towers.
 
Falling in love with Patrick Swazey every night, we all wanted to be ‘baby in the corner’ and live the dream of a handsome dancer, rough around the edges but a man who would prove himself as a misunderstood stand-up guy who would never leave her in the corner. A movie like that can lift you from your own life and stupidly give you hope for the same ending. That ending never came for me, I was in the corner for some years to come.
 
I was lonely, I had no friends, it was his town, and I had no money. What little I earned in the corner shop had to be shared for rent, and bills; I lived off a bowl of sweetcorn and 10 fags; in my own way, that was a snipe at Evan; I knew he would hate it. Just 40 minutes away was the life I left: family, nice house, opportunities, but no, I knew best. Don’t we all believe that we can change a situation by ourselves?
 
           Was God screaming at me to wake up? If he was, I never took notice.
 
I don’t blame my mother or step-farther for my actions; perhaps this makes me feel better to justify my decisions that were to come.
 
A 17-year-old wants to hear, ‘I told you so.’ My mother had the ‘stretch of him from the start. She didn’t stand a chance; ‘pride before a fall’ was me in abundance. I was never giving her the satisfaction of getting one over on me, and I know I would never hear the last of it from her or my stepfather.
 
How do you explain to a 17-year-old about abortion? 
 
There were two nurses, Sharon and Alison. They were nice and pleasant, and I am sure they had seen plenty of ‘me’ walk through that door. Did I have a look of regret or heartache on my face? Did I look certain about what I was about to do? Did I know how the next few hours would flood me with guilt for years to come, forever?
 
Sharon talked me through the procedure, and Aison was there by my side, holding my hand for reassurance. I said sorry to them both for getting myself into this and that they had to pick up the pieces. They told me that they had supported many through these situations and I was not the first or the last to need help.
 
Why me? Why had I been so stupid? How could I not have taken the pill every day like I was told? How could this have gone so far? I did nothing, no excuses, just me and avoiding facing a situation head-on.
 
My mother had been back and forth in contact; why didn’t I ask for help? Why hadn’t I spoken to Racheal about this? This is what sisters do; they know each other’s secrets, except I hadn’t seen Rachel since I moved in with Evan. The perfect daughter had gone off to university to study Law and was now lapping up the luxuries of wealth and the circles that she found herself in; mam was always happy to share this news as she held her breath to see me, although we had upgraded to a stinky house by this point.
 
How do you share this news with those who expected you to fail with Evan? I’m pregnant, and I can’t have this child in this situation and with him. It had been a year since I had moved away, and a lot could have happened. Evan started to work for the clubs back closer to home; he had been caught stealing in the old club and asked to leave; they had some sympathy as he told them he had a gambling addiction; he told me that he used this to get away with it, he didn’t have a problem.
 
I was about to start work as a temp in a Law firm, Smiths Law, in the city; this could be a chance to start again.
 
The time had come, and it was mid-day, two pills and just me, alone. I can’t even remember where Evan was, I don’t remember him until the end of the day. 
 
Alison again talked and explained the process, first pill and the second no turning back, the abortion would be over. They asked me about counseling, and I rejected this as something that io would need. I didn’t ask any questions, I treated this as a task that had to be done, I was so naïve, how could I be so stupid, why didn’t I ask, how?
 
How would this physically happen, I can’t remember even thinking about the ‘how’, what technically is passing a fetus, it honestly never came into my mind that I would be giving birth.  
 
I was silent in the room, apart from the staff coming and going, it was quiet, the quiet before the storm. Why was I so pathetic, that’s all I thought of, why didn’t you sort this, you can only depend on yourself, and you let yourself down, again.
 
                       Was God trying to scream again saying don’t you dare do this?
 
 
After the second pill, it wasn’t long before I found out ‘how’. I was in a room on my own, a bed, privacy with nobody, just me. It wasn’t long before a nurse joined me, o was screaming, pain in my belly, period pains don’t come close, not cramps, like someone was tying a not in my belly and yanking on it.  
The nurse must have told me that I would have some of this to let it ‘pass’, what am I ‘passing’ out, what part of this didn’t I listen to or take in? 
 
I didn’t even have anything to wear other than the clothes I was in. I didn’t even call Gary, I called a school friend, Christine. She was from a nice family, and always seemed close and together. I had brought her into this nightmare and her mother. Her mother was my nursery teacher years ago, I am wounded to this day how much her opinion would have changed of me knowing what I had become. 
 
As good friends do, Christine stayed with me for a while, dropped a nighty off, and asked if I needed anything, unsurprisingly we never stayed in touch after that. Perhaps neither of us wanted to relive that moment. It's weird the things that you remember when you look back at this life-changing moment.  The nighty she brought for me still had the tag on it, Christine's mam, although probably mortified at the situation, still wanted to make sure that I had a fresh and brand-new nighty.
 
A couple of hours later I ‘passed’ the ‘fetus’ I was on a chair and the nurse covered the bowl not for me to see and that was it, over for now. I just sat there, too afraid to move, didn’t want to look but didn’t understand why they would cover the bowl, is this wasn’t a ‘baby’ in all sense then what were they protecting me from?
 
It was a lie, not from the nurses, they had done everything by the book, I had lied to myself to make the situation bearable, but in that moment, I sore through my lies, and it hit me, I was alone, on a chair with my baby underneath me dead.
 
I said nothing but the nurses I am sure felt this truth being told in my head over and over, how sorry I was.
 
They needed to operate and as I was 17 needed permission so Evan was called, he was more concerned about his grandfather who had given him a lift and spun him a line about why I was going to the theatre, an eye op, just random. He kissed my head before they wheeled me down and managed to remove the last of the cash in my purse. It’s surprising what does stay with you through something so horrific. 

 
You never get over this, you put it out of your mind, you turn the TV off when they talk about abortion and you time and time again ask for forgiveness. It is easy to say that God forgives if you ask for forgiveness and I have asked, begged, pleaded and yes, I know he has forgiven me but forgiving yourself is a different thing.
 
A lost life was a consequence of my stupidly, recklessness, trying to be something I wasn’t, trying to get out of a situation that was beyond me, but it was avoidable.
 
A consequence so big, that life and death were avoidable.
 

Honor and Obey

As years passed some good times followed for Evan and me, parties and going out with his friends and their families, with no children we had that luxury.

Evan remained the party boy and sometimes I was happy to make the most of it, other times I became complicit in what he did and how he did it.
Luckily, he was a rugby fan, and this was the only thing we had in common, and these were the times when we shared laughs and good times although being a Wales fan is a struggle on times when you bear the losses.

Just having that in common wasn’t enough and as time went on, I don’t even think he liked me much, he felt secure, and he enjoyed the money that I brought in. For most of it, he felt like the underdog, he had failed at most things in his life, as we all do, yet never learned any lessons from those failures. 

My family never warmed to him, and I was stuck between keeping up the pretense of the choice I made years ago rather than admitting defeat and leaving. He didn’t have much of a family and I knew that when I left, he would have nothing to fall back on, I felt guilty even before I did anything, and I got stuck. I had a choice it’s just I didn’t see any at that time. 

Was I honoring my marriage, well I was present and faithful at that time so yes. It was some years until I would meet my forever blessing, Martin, and break my vow to honor and obey.
                   
You would think that this is a standout unusual situation a lonely marriage, I thought at one point that I was the only wife who ‘lived to work’, enjoyed leaving every day to see friends, and felt worth something for once.
I wasn’t, what started off as a normal office friendship with Keri and Laura slowly revealed itself into a friendship of reliance and support, they had marriages that had their own struggles.
We were all from the same valley at one point in our lives and stood out working in the city with our ‘taffy’ accents, even with that we all did well in the Smith Law Firm.

We all shared the language of ‘our father’ Welsh, this would always come in handy when we need to have a little gossip, normally about the big wiggs going out for a lavish lunch! We weren’t big wig solicitors to be fair, I managed the office, and Keri and Laura were receptionists, but we all felt part of something in the office.

Keri was funny, petite, and apple shape. We had all done a quiz in a magazine one day on lunch to match our shape to a fruit, I was a pear! One of the solicitors had overheard us, Simon.
Simon Jones was also a ‘taffy’, an older solicitor that had been there for donkey’s years, he was also a smoker so huddled with us, shamed in the naughty corner of the car park.

He was one of the big wigs who had emigrated from the valleys to the city, one of the few his age who had escaped the mines and years of misery, pick and shovel in hand. He had lost 2 older brothers to one of the pit disasters in Senghenydd, I always felt that he felt guilty for not being a miner, he wasn’t part of a community that with all the struggles was a family down in the dark, caged like animals picking at black gold that could cost them their lives and the rest of us could heat our homes.
I thought differently. his brothers would have wanted more for him, he would get the chance to follow dreams that they could never have hoped for.
          
Smith’s Law was our second life for the three of us, the life that we wanted, we were respected, good at our jobs and we had fun, perhaps too much fun. We had a routine. Keri would pick us up daily, Laura first, and then me. We would be at work an hour before we needed to be there, parking was a nightmare and so we had to save money parking for free down the side street.

We had a corner shop by where we parked, a cup of tea in the car, and chatted about the night before and the day ahead. It was 6.30 am as we parked up most days, the city coming alive, shops opening, and we would often see a homeless man roaming with his trolly.
On this one occasion, it was my turn for the tea run and the homeless man was out with his trolly, Keri had decided that we should do something, even small for him, we felt guilty in a warm car with a cuppa and wanted to be nice and help.

We had been to Slimming World the night before and so because we had been weighed in our minds anything we ate the day after didn’t count and the whisper bars had just come back out and we were all itching to remember that fine taste, even at 6.30 am
.
On the way back from the shop, tea in hand I passed it to Laura through the window and looked at the bars of chocolate and thought no, this man needs these, Keri was in full support shouting from the window ‘Go on Ruth, he will love it’. Now Keri had always said to Laura and me, never ask a question that you are not prepared for the answer’, once it’s out there people respond and there’s no going back. This was one of those times.
I said good morning to the homeless man with his trolly and asked, ‘Would you like these chocolate bars, and my friends just got them and we shouldn’t be eating them after slimming club last night’, he looked at me, looked at Keri and Laura in the car with their cuppas smiling,
‘I think you may need them more than me thank you, how else are you all going to win Welsh slimmer of the year’. Rude, I mean you try and do what you think is a nice thing and then slap in the face. I remember walking back to the car, they didn’t even hear what he said, they didn’t need to, they just knew, and we sat and ate the bars with great pleasure.
God loves a trier.
                
Smith Law was a mix of people, the office staff and solicitors kept a distance, and we all got on but different breeds of people. The solicitors, apart from Simon Jones also known as ‘Judge Jones’ in the fag area, were from the city, and the office staff the valleys, neither world would collide outside the office unless it was work.
Cardiff, not imposing in size, beautiful, friendly, busy, and not rushed. Full of character with the Castle at the top of the high street surrounded by shops, the Stadium in the heart of it all and packed on international match day, Wales playing is a national event, it belongs in the heart of the city as it does in the heart of the nation.
Cardiff since a child was an annual visit growing up, everything happened there first and so from the valleys, it was like time travelling 10 years into the future.

I loved it, it was no better than the Valleys just different, to me it gave me opportunities, my job, money and to meet people, cultures, and religions that I would never have come across in the Valleys.
I can’t say that some of the ‘differences’ went unnoticed by the Cardiff lot in the office, they would often remind us ‘taffies’ of how long it takes us to get to work, of the lack of shops and restaurants that we had and why did we call people by their surname and job, like ‘judge Jones’, there are a lot of joneses in the valleys!

It was a different world, the three of us would treat ourselves once a week to the most amazing Sandwich shop down in town, it was lush, I don’t think we ever tried a different filling from the first day, the attraction was the people watching. Sat there just watching, make-believe as couples passed by what was their story, was it an affair, who was more into who, was it going to last? I think this was our way of not facing our relationships we were living the lie in our heads.
                 
Keri lived over the mountain in the next valley to me, when you live in the valleys everyone lives ‘just over the mountain’. Keri was a family girl and lived next door to Mam and Dad, amazing with kids and animals and if remember a demand driver, she could park anywhere! Keri wasn’t blessed with having children and I say blessed because she would have been an awesome Mam and she always longed for children. I often thought if she was married to a good man, she would have felt that loss more. As it happens, she wants to be married to a good man.
Mental health is no Joke and each of us in our lives will experience some sort of ‘low mood’ or boughs of depression. Keri didn’t have time to have any struggles, she was married to one. Where do controlling and mental illness overlap, or can you just be a bad person with no trauma or bad childhood story as a reason to back it up? He was the absolute epitome of ups and downs, he was the worst in all situations and Keri most days. The saving grace for her is that he worked away, Tuesday to Saturday, that was the blessing.

He would call countless times, I guess not being a trusting person like he was you must get some control even being abroad driving a lorry. Keri would use work as a reason why she couldn’t have her phone on and that’s how we became friends, he bombarded the office phone, and my phone with calls. She has just started, I remember pulling her into the office, we already had a connection from the interview, the valleys people just did, and we connected instantly. She knew what I was about to say, I recognised that look, the look of not again, trying to get away, I took out for a personal break in the smoking areas, most things get solved there, well they did for us. From that day we had an instant trust and allied together.
Keri had become famous even with me for having to leave early if ever we had to take out clients, or any office meetings. Even from a distance, he controlled her, and she was strong, she didn’t hold back if anyone had not returned calls as planned, and she was a stickler for manners, even the bug wigs knew that they had to watch their p’s and q’s with Keri. Why then would she put up with this from him, well, she loved him, and that then turned into she had to stay with him. No family or friends, she was his only hope and Keri was the queen of second chances and he had more than anyone I know.
               
Well, Laura was another ‘pear’, she was tall and big-boned like me, and she lived on the same mountain as me. She had 3 boys, all between the ages of 4-8 and she was part of a massive family, 3 brothers and 2 sisters. All were part of the family business, construction, Laura was the only one who had decided that she wanted something else. Her husband Lewis worked for the family business; it didn’t take much for her to make the decision not to work with him. Family life was always good, and the boys adored her, she would work everything around them to make sure that they went to rugby training and after-school clubs, Laura was living as a single mother in her marriage, and Lewis wasn’t to be seen, in the years that we were friends I met him once.

He loved the women, anyone in fact, Laura could not keep count of the messages from these women telling her what they had got up to, women can be mean and thoughtless. He was the tough man on the site and lorded it over the rest of the men that he was an important part of his ‘family business’, he wasn’t, Laura’s dad had done what any dad would do, gave him a job so he could at the very least financially support her and the boys. The slang given to someone like Lewis was chocolate boy, thought about his looks, sun beds, all the gear, and no idea. Like me and Keri, she was stuck with him.

She was my reflection in the mirror, not just in height and build, she was worn out, and all three of us were worn out. In work it was, jazz hands and smiles, nobody would have ever guessed the secrets we held and only shared.
For us work was a day of ignoring the outside world, perhaps that’s why we made such an effort, more than anyone else, we wanted to succeed at something, we were winning for once.

Every one of us broke the vow, and the ending was very different for all of us.

The night I had a phone call from Keri from the police station warning me that Steve may try and contact me to find her. It was the weekend and he had come home in a rage, not because he had found out about Keri and her ‘soldier’ friend but because he had not taken his meds and spiraled out of control. He had plastered the village with posters of Keri, all labeled ‘slag’, he had taken the hunting riffle from the shed and left a note at the house ‘Nobody can have you, nobody will want you, so I will make it easier and take us both’.

What do I say, what do I do, what is going on I asked her. She was with her mom and dad and for her safety whilst they tried and track him down, she was to stay there. In good old Keri humor, she said, he could have used a better picture. I remember it was just before Christmas and the office party was the next weekend, she broke the news about the party over the phone as he was driving home. This was always a tactic for Keri, she had gotten used to communicating the simplest things by text or phone to avoid the instant comeback, she knew a delayed response would happen, just not this.

Steve was sectioned that night to the local physiatric ward.

On this Friday girl’s night had taken a massive turn when Laura walked in that night, she was bruised. She has been off, as planned, a week’s holiday in a cottage West Wales. She never made that holiday, and her boys had spent the week with Nan and Bamps as she recovered from her injuries.
It was the night before they were due to leave for holidays and luckily the boys were at their uncles for the night so that Laura could get everything packed. She was looking forward to it but also a hint of sadness that she would miss Howard. He had become a lifeline of joy for her, he was caring, kind, attentive all the things Lewis wasn’t. Nothing stays secret that long in the valleys, especially when you are working on the same construction site, it got out that Laura and Howard had been having an affair for 6 months and rather than Lewis confront Howard he decided to hold that thought and take his chances with Laura, an easier fight.

It was a one-way fight, Laura was no shrinking violet, but Lewis was an enraged man who wanted to solve this ‘situation’ in the only way he knew how violence. As Laura described the night it wasn’t just violence, it was an onslaught of 8 hours through the night of questions, accusations, and torment. He was correct, Laura had been having an affair, and she would have answered that question without hesitation. His questions were never asked. He leaped from one man to another, searching her phone for clues, within an hour she stood accused of sleeping with half the construction site. The allegations came as strong and as hard as the blows to her body, he demanded she stripped. Her last memory was of a roundabout whilst he was choking her, a light shining as she reached out for this roundabout.

We laughed, I stand ashamed to say that Keri and I giggled at this and so did Laura. It was always our go-to reaction, giggle, and move on. This wasn’t one of those situations anymore, Laura had woken up from conciseness, grabbed a blanket, and run out into the street where a neighbor called her dad, he was well known in the village. The only thing that Laura was grateful for was that her boys had not been there to see this, to see their dad as a monster, and to find out that she was no longer perfect.
Lewis was never seen in the village after that night, looks like he was not welcome in the ‘family business’ anymore and Daddy did what any dad would do, escorted him out.

We had all survived a marriage, we had all strayed and done wrong and we had all committed a Sin. They were my beloved friends, and I don’t see sinful women, I see survivors and women who gave and gave and gave until they reached that point of, no more.
Keri finds her happiness with the ‘soldier’, they spend weekends trekking with their 5 dogs and making memories, she is no longer on a leash and although freedom is now a given, she chooses to spend every free moment with her ‘soldier’.

Laura, well, she found her happiness in her boys and being the best mother that I have ever known. She knows that’s there more out there but chooses to not bother looking, for now, she has it all with her family.  


And me, Jack was my Sin.
 
 
 

My ‘Gifted’ Sin

Picture this, a city ‘boy,’ the accent, the confidence, the swagger; some would call arrogance, enter Jack.

He was the new Client manager at Smith Law, oh, and didn’t we all know it? He was demanding from the start, no relaxing into the role, it was a new job role that was needed to manage their high ‘profile’ clients, which meant the people who paid the most. He was the firm’s opportunity to expand and bring in the big money and Jack was the man to do it.
Direct is an understatement when describing Jack although he spread the love equally and was as demanding of me as he was of the CEO, nobody escaped Jack. From the start he made it look easy, he was in control, and he was focused.
I am not saying that I, along with the others in the office was not ‘on the ball’, we were a good team, we all worked hard, Jack just had this way about him, he never got stressed but always 100 miles an hour.
                    
Our daily routine changed, Keri, Laura, and I was now part of Jack’s world, not directly but in meetings I somehow got delegated a lot of actions from Jack, the lacky work. Contacting clients on his behalf and by default Keri and Laura were at the mercy of his diary, without directly changing a workforce I was now sharing Keri and Laura with Jack, we had all fallen in line with his agenda.
I couldn’t argue my case, I had to fall in with his agenda, he was good, more than good, Smith Law was attracting more high-profile clients across the UK and Jack was certainly living up to expectations. By default, this meant more client shindigs and we were all happy to jump on a free night out.
           
Jude Hudson was a challenging client, high profile banker from London and yes it does rhyme with the obvious and this is what he was, he was to us anyway. He was one of Jack's new clients, and I had the unfortunate task of sitting in with Jack in his meetings to support him and take notes. He was early 30’s, new money so ‘Judge Jones’ said when we were gossiping I the fag area. He was the chosen solicitor and had to put up with his brash questions about where he lived and how on earth he could cope so far away from ‘life’. He thought Cardiff was barely barrable in comparison to London, let alone out in the sticks.

For someone who had plenty of options in London why bother us, he had family in Cardiff and mixed visits dealing with his contract obligations, oh and it was cheaper. I think he enjoyed lording it up.

During these meetings I would see another version of Jack, he made no notes whatsoever yet could remember the finest of details about Mr Hudson’s account. He didn’t rise to any quips made about why Jack wasn't a solicitor or how much he could earn working in London. Jack just nodded, acknowledged, and stayed silent. When Mr. Hudson left each time Jack would say"What a prick, another 5% on his bill please Ruuth".

As wrong as that sounds I learnt more about Jack, he may not have reacted in the moment but he was not going to let him get away with it. I admired him for that.

That 5% came in very handy when organising the Christmas party, me and the girls were in charge of sorting this and we looked forward to it. Our husbands didn't have a clue that everyone invited their 'other halves' to these things apart from us and Jack. Very slowly I started to see some similarities, without us saying out loud he was another one of us hiding away in the safety of Smith Law away from a lost marriage.

What I need to be clear on when you hear about Jack and me is that this was not part of my plan, I was used to living a lie in my marriage, I ignored the affairs that Evan had and he ignored the fact that I preferred to work and be with the girls than him, it suited us both. I blame Fifty Shades of Grey, women all over wanted that direct, assured manly figure in their lives, oh, and an actual orgasm.

The party was a game of two halves, one half I was present and aware of everything, clients were there so I didn't drink and made sure everything that I had planned went without disaster, it's the unplanned that you have no control over. That being said it was a blip to say that I hadn't considered my fellow Muslin friends and fellow staff members, that's not to say that we didn't try, I listened to Keri and she assured me that she had blessed the meat and so it was ok for them to eat. This is something that we have never spoken about to this day to those friends, some things are best left and Keri was very thoughtful and had good intentions.

Jack wasn't drinking either, he wanted to keep Sain having to listen to Mr Hudson all night, although I think Jack later regretted it the next day. The staff loved the night, in fact on reflection I should have noticed some of the 'odd' things that were going on. I mean Greg in his tweed blazer in a boiling hot nightclub, people coming out of the toilets 2 by 2 with sniffly noses. Me and the girls may be from the valleys but you wouldn't describe us as 'street wise'. The next day I had a phone call from one of the solicitors that I was to summon Greg in and ask for his resignation the next day. He had only been stopped by the doormen and caught with enough cocaine to sustain the whole of the company, and by the sounds of it, I think he did.

Jack was my go-to on this one, he was shocked that even I hadn't noticed and I was slightly peed off that nobody had included me. don't get me wrong not my thing, Jack said that I have that nieve clean look about me so they would never have asked. I liked Greg, he was young, good family, and had started with Smith Law and wanted to progress, I knew he had to go, just not a great part of the job. I didn't what anyone would do and delegated this job to Jack, yes I needed his help. He was great, had a chat with Greg, and even before he mentioned it Greg himself said that he thought it was time he moved on, shake of the hands and that was it.

It was that night after work, after a few drinks to chat over the drama of the day that it happened, I knew I had grown fond of Jack and attracted but I had never cheated on Evan and never planned to. Jack had opened up about his marriage, they had struggled to have a child, IVF, and failed twice. Jack didn't want to try again but Lara did. The money had drained from the account, she had been loaning money to family without him knowing and the cost of IVF had left him hand to mouth. I would have never guessed it. The similarities in how we operated within our marriages were unmissable. We shared stories, compared notes and then I kissed him, I left nothing behind,

I had never done anything like that before I just had to. He kissed me back, god he was a good kisser, I had only been subject to the odd episode with Evan of the last years, and kissing was never a strength of his. For the first time in years, I felt attractive, he was powerful, not rough, just powerful it was a kiss with complete control and attitude. If I loved it so much why did I turn and tell him "I will never leave my husband"? At that moment even I knew what was about to happen, perhaps I was trying to tell myself as a warning.

The next morning I thought everyone knew what I had done, Keri and Laura I was straight on the phone to them both.

It wasn't long before I laid eyes on him, in the lift, of all places I did it again, didn't give him a chance I was kissing him, with no awareness of anyone else that could be stepping in at any moment. Jack replies "I will make you fall in love with me". From that moment that's what we did. We both fell in love with each other. We worked together with nobody knowing, we both went home to our partners, The only question was how could we spend the night together, lucky work was always a reasonable excuse for us both. But it's not just logistics it's the actual deed. We had grown close friends before the kiss, he had never seen me other than a work dress across the board room, and now he is going to see it all. If he looks at the 'oh be joyful' there is no going back, once you have seen each other in that way you can't unsee it.

Our opportunity came, a weekend away, a hotel, a leap into the unknown, this was it.

The weekend was a dream, we talked, we sat and watched couples having a coffee making up stories about their life and laughing. I got dressed up, and put on makeup, he told me that I looked beautiful and meant it. It was normal, it was exciting and spontaneous but I knew that this would be something we would do on the weekend, it wasn't an act or put on. we just worked and enjoyed each other company.

The sex was of course amazing, I had been on that orgasm shelf for some time now so my body was ready for it. He loved my shape, every bit of it, I tried my best to hide it but no, all the extra bits on the hips he loved, Men don't appreciate how precious this is and to this day he reminds me that he loves me bits and all.

The hard bit when you have an affair is the guilt and I think Jack felt this more than I did, I am not saying that Evan deserved this, Keri and Laura had said it was even in comparison to how many he had over the years, this was different, I knew I would never be with Evan again and I would leave him no matter what. Even so, you still have the guilt over lying and creeping around, this I wish I had done differently. Jack, well he had a wife who was longing for a child and Jack was her only hope, he was more than a husband he was someone who could grant her the wish, a baby. She was going to lose more than a husband, it was a loss of a family she never had.

It took us two months of sneaking around and lying until we left, I was first, even if Jack and I didn't work out I was going, I had a different confidence now, one that had seen a glimmer of hope and a life beyond settling and being grateful for anyone. I had a little bit of the hope I had when I was younger, a little bit of myself had grown back. For Evan, he was upset, not because he loved me but because his gravy chain had dried up. I left him everything, he was not capable of owning a house, or car, and his loyalty was to the bookies. Stupid to leave him but it was my way of forgiving myself for what I had done. Years later he sold it all.

It was different from Jack, he had to navigate the hurt we had caused for Lara, her world had stopped, no husband, no IVF no baby. It was hard for him, even worse for her. These are the feelings that you can't undo, they are there, people have them and you have to live with them, they have to live with you and they did nothing.

Jack was a gift, we were meant to be I truly believe that and I think this was always in the plan, I wish the Lord would have shown me another way to receive my gift.

Do I regret Jack, never, I regret how I did it that only God can forgive.

Greed

 ‘God loves a trier,’ and I think if I were sat opposite him, he would say, yeah, you did try; whatever was in your path, you gave it a go. I would never be someone who would ‘pull up trees’ to change the world. There was a time I thought that. 

We had been blessed with the Twins, and at the time it was absolute dread, Jack had taken some years to come around to the idea of having a baby, life was too good I suppose, with holidays, nights out, and nobody to look after but each other. I remember at the s can a little tear ran down his face, I thought it was a little unusual for Jack to show such emotion, it was a tear because they pointed out two of them.

Just before the twins were born Jack decided to go it alone, one of the Clients he had worked with asked him to partner up to manage large accounts for the very wealthy, making sure any new contracts were worth the deal, I didn't understand how it all worked but jack told me this was a good move and I trusted him. He had never failed at anything he put his mind to.

it all happened too fast, the twins were born, and no sooner did we leave the hospital than Jack was back at work with Lawson, he wanted to be at home with us all but it was early days in the business and he wanted to make his mark.

Jack made his mark, the business was on a high, our liquid cash was plentiful, and I guess with money we thought anything was possible. It wasn’t a mansion house, porch rich wealth but we were more than comfortable. The twins cost a fortune and thank God we had that money, even as babies they wanted for nothing, and no matter what it has never changed.

Life wasn't easy, the twins took over, and from day one it was all about them as it should be but this was a 360 on our lives, we couldn't plan anything because I was still getting used to operating two little human beings let alone plan anything. What was easy was bills and money, I know that Jack worked hard but it was coming in week after week. I had a cleaner, I did have the twins, and washing the bathroom down wasn't in the schedule or at least theirs. I had money to shop for clothes, these are little things but I wasn't used to free money, even when Jack and I had got together there were still bills and living a good social life. This now felt like unlimited money, he and Lawson worked well together. Jack had never made friends easily, he liked working solo but now he had found a great business partner and a friend.

On the rare occasion, we had a babysitter, Lawson, who had nagged for ages that Jack and I meet his fiancee Kathy. So for the first time, we went out, twins 6 months and although we did call back to the babysitter a couple of times we enjoyed the moment of freedom. It was like we had never been out before, even with the company we fell back into how we used to be, people-watching, laughing with Lawson and Kathy about adult things, it was what we needed, we were talking about the business, and how well things were going,

Kathy was excited about the wedding next year and planning away. It wasn't long before Lawson mentioned a new client who was big in the trading world, this meant very little to me and Kathy was none the wiser, she wasn't interested in what the men did but she sure did love the lifestyle it gave her. Kathy was younger than me, her body hadn't been mangled from carrying twins, and she was a beautician so her face was a mix of Botox and fillers although she was a pretty woman. Although I had no intention of injecting my face to freeze time she did make me feel like age was catching up on me.

I can't remember the actual moment that Jack broke the news that he had 'invested' two hundred and fifty thousand pounds into a trade deal but I do remember my reaction, has he just gambled our life savings away? Jack had never gambled and this wasn't in the traditional sense, it was an investment. I trusted Jack with everything and this was no exception, if he had invested it meant that some good was going to come of it.

Imagination is amazing, I mean we were living in a bubble, Jack would come home after another meeting with the client who had introduced him and Lawcen, and Colin had become the man who had sold a dream. The dream was massive, this initial quarter of a million would produce 4 million split between them both within 6 months. Now Jack and I are sensible, Jack intelligent but if you are reading this out loud I know you are thinking, "What are the chances", but these people, Colin was quoting figures and showing how these trades had worked in the past, they were experts and only a few were invited to invest in these schemes, "what are the chances".

When you look at a chance like this you feel blessed, I felt blessed, I had a great husband, Twins and now my life was planned out with this dream, I would never want and I would never be afraid of the future and its scary and its is scary, its the unknown.

The first delay was expected, things happen, Brexit had caused delays in the banking world so a month's delay was ok, I more than Jack was enjoying planning out my future, who I would gift money to, what kind of house I would live in, I even viewed houses expecting that this 2 Million was just a blink away. We were not entirely greedy, we wanted to share the love, "who makes it when you make it" was the motto, that's fine when you make it.

Chasing rainbows is how I would describe the year we waited, it was stressful and full of drama. It was early on that I found out that Kathy was in the dark about this investment, Jack had told me it all, good, bad, and disappointing or as it turned out the bad, worse, and even worse. Jack and Lawrence would spend hours on the phone trying to rationalise what was a Ponzi scheme that they had entered. The night that we spent over with Kathy and Lawrence talking through wedding plans as the special day came closer, she was spending like no tomorrow and Lawrence looked worse every time I looked at him.

Larence died as he washed the car one morning, no warning, Kathy had come home from the Gym and there he was by the side of the new Range Rover sports he had to get on finance to keep up appearances with Kathy. He planned to surprise her long before the day with the 2 Million windfall, she would never have to worry again and they would be set for life as newlyweds.

Mike was devastated, the only one he had allowed to get close to him in years and now he was gone, Lawrence had a heart attack and Jack put the blame firmly on the door of Colin. The hunt for the investment money was now on, the payout for 4 Million was now a figment of our imagination, no longer was the search on for a better life, the saving pot was running dry and the investment money was just to pay back debts we had chalked up over the past months.

There was no help, the trading people are sticky folk I guess they are used to playing about with people's money when it's your own somehow the shine of Colin wore off. the police didn't consider this as something they could look into, it wasn't enough money that we lost. it was a year when that money was returned, a mix of Jack's constant battering of Colin's name amongst clients and also his determination to make the loss of Larence count.

Handing over a hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds does sound like something joyful, in this case, Kathy was sincere when she told me that no amount of money could make up for this. I felt guilty, she was shocked that Larence had never trusted her with this information, it wasn't that, Larence wanted this to be a life-changing moment for her, in the end, it was not the ending that anyone wanted.

I was as guilty as Jack of idolizing the idea of wealth and this was my Sin, I never gave the Lord a second thought until times got tough. I prayed and prayed that we would get the investment money back and we did. when my life was great before the investment I didn't give thanks, I thought, We had done it on our own, it wasn't until desperation that I finally turned my faith, scared that everything we had worked for was now lost.

I know that this was my lesson, stop chasing rainbows, eyes on me is what I think he would have been saying to me. Between the twins, lockdown, and this little chapter of my life, it was then that God became what and who I trusted, not myself but even that is easier said than done.

Clinging to his word

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart

Jeremiah 29:11-13
 
Stick to the narrow gates, stick to the narrow gates. This was the first verse I read that caught me, how do I get to the gates and then through the narrow gates, well that’s something that I cling to every day. I know that’s the path I choose, there just no Sat Nav to get there. Pray before even opening my eyes, and think of Jesus before anything else, the answer is always prayer and there is always a verse for any, and I mean any, problem or issue that life has. This all sounds relatively easy, oh, and just rely on him and it will all come together.

There we are my masterclass on how to love God. NOW BREATH.

Everyone has their relationship with God, when I listen to people talk about their faith, they always seem to have a fuzzy glow, like life doesn’t slap them in the face once or twice. Does that mean I lack faith, does that mean I was too late getting to the party and giving my heart to him? My faith is a mix of absolute love, questions, and challenges. How can I be so invested in something you can’t see, hear, or feel? Or is that just what the sinks think?
        
I was 41 when I had my ‘epiphany’. We were in lockdown; it was easter time, and I was on Prozac. That’s a description that I thought I would never have to use, Prozac and me. The twins were 2 and my world had become small on maternity leave even before the lockdown, then it became insignificant, I became insignificant.

I had decided that I wasn’t to return to my well-paid Job at Smith Law, and I insisted that I stay at home with the twins, something I had wanted, not my husband, Jack. This is a story of, be careful what you wish for, it happened I was a stay-at-home Mom with the boys, and looking back I know now how blessed and fortunate I was to be able to do that and not worry about countless office meetings and client shindigs. That feeling wore off after a year and I had to look at other adventures as a career change. As a therapist, I retrained in college and my family supported me to get my qualifications I found myself supporting children moved to foster homes, the technical term ‘looked after children’ locally.

I was blessed, I had a family full of support, a new career adventure, and a husband who made sure that bills and money were not something I needed to worry about. Even so, everything was hard in that moment. I spend my time at home with the boys entertaining them outside, games, TV, singing, anything and everything. I remember having panic ‘moments’, the thought of staying in for any length of time with the boys on my own filled me with dread and fear, just the thought suffocated me. And then, in lockdown, I was told to stay in with them, and like everyone else, we followed orders. I was lucky to have Martin, although he spent a day working from home and then quickly and indefinitely ran to the office.

Easter in lock I ran out of solutions, the anti-depressants were not helping, and I had no friends or family outside of the 4 walls to talk to. I don’t think the boys suffered, well I will never know until they are older and possibly on a talk show explaining how Mam used to sit and pick her nails in despair, thankfully that’s the only thing that suffered apart from my mind, my nails.

I said that my husband Jack suffered, the man at home is completely different from the one who owns his own business and is focused on being a success. At home, he is relaxed and loves his children, there is nothing he would not do for them, and he loves me like I have never experienced. He forgave me for my outbursts and moods and used ‘just tired’ as a response to what was wrong. He is a forgiving man and I needed that at this time, and he will always be my constant.
                       
The night I listened to the prayer, lying in my bed. I had been listening to Rev online for some time during lockdown and found it helped with sleeping. This time, it was different: ****stand in silence prayer****. I felt a rush of warmth, a physical change in my body, I hugged myself, and it came from nowhere. I can’t even compare this feeling, I don’t know, laying on a fluffy cloud with a clear mind and love in my heart. It’s no surprise that the next day I said nothing, I did what everyone does in this situation, GOOGLED it! I came across a prayer for Lent, feast on his love, and fast on anxiety. This became my mantra for Lent, not giving anything up physically, my lent was making time to be with God.  

You see trying to explain these feelings to someone who has never had them is hard, I underestimated how Jack understood what I was saying once I had opened up to him on Thirsty Thursday night with a nice bottle of Melot for support I blurted it out. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t move the conversation on, he listened, he was interested, he had seen a change in my mood and was probably thankful that something, anything had moved me off Prozac and into a sense of normality. I loved him even more to know that I could share this with the Man that I knew I would share my life with until the end.
I had known that Jack had been to church when he was younger, now in our nightly conversations about the bible, he challenged me on scripture, he knew more than me and I had been through Sunday school all my life. He had a different relationship with God.
Jack would have dreams; he would tell me that God wants him to support me and not stand in my way but to walk with me through this journey of faith.

That was Jack's only advice to me, God wants to walk with me, not in front but with me side by side, and that’s stuck with me and supports me when I feel distant or alone that God is by my side.
                     

My Baptised was a year later in Chapel, I had a double dunk in the pool, not everything goes right the first time, I think God was having a cheeky giggle at seeing me finally accept that he had been there all along and thought the second dunk was just for laughs.

I was in a haze of happiness, I truly believed that I was the only one that he loved that much, even in faith I wanted to be the center of attention, and nothing changed. I loved every session I had with Rev to prepare me for my Big day and I shared every bit of this with Jack, it was a buy one get one free for God as slowly Jack got more interested and started asking questions himself. I had a lot of what-ifs and the big question for me was, what is my calling? In my head, and Jack read it time after time, I thought that somehow there would be a big announcement, this is it, Ruth, this is your calling, but there wasn’t.

Both Rev and Jack told me to take time to reflect after the baptism, keep the fire burning for his love, and be patient.
Now, God knows how many hairs I have on my head, so I found it impossible that God, knowing how impatient I am, could have closed the door on this question: what is the calling?

And everyone in chapel kind of looked to me like they knew what theirs was. I was avoiding the realization that being a good mother, wife, or member of the chapel was my calling, I mean is that it, I took it as RED that this was the answer as I couldn’t hear anything else coming through.
My head was so full of questions and reprimanding myself for being too envious or greedy that even if God was trying to get through it is possible that I was so loud and busy in my head that he couldn’t get through.

It took me a long time in prayer, with Jack and Rev to realize that my calling is wherever he wants me to be at that time, I can’t say I have always liked the places or situations that I have found myself in, care homes listening and supporting children that have been let down by the people who should have been there for them.
                      
Life in faith does not give you a green light to avoid tragedy or pain, it reassures me that whatever I face, the family faces then he will look after us. I know we still have to work and pay bills and now I have a job that means something, and I trust that God wants me there.
The homes and children that I am surrounded by are meant to be. We are connected for that time; I believe that God wants me there to do his work. I don’t consider myself as the most qualified of therapists, having boundaries, separating the job from your own life, I find it hard to balance what the ‘job’ requires and what my faith is asking of me, and faith always wins.

I am in their lives for a reason but also, they are in mine for a reason, I learn more and more about what I am capable of hearing and feeling with each child I meet. It never gets easy, that I promise. The pain and suffering that can be inflicted on a child by the people who are there to care for you is unthinkable, but for that child, that’s all they can think of, they have no choice but to face the acts of suffering and neglect inflicted on them. In my community, I ask God for forgiveness that just as humans begin, we let this happen.

It’s a constant surprise that people question these children's behavior when, for some, they are just mimicking what they have seen daily for years. In this job, I have seen the best of people, foster parents who have made it their life’s work to try and restore a life that, even at a young age, is so broken. There is no right or wrong way to try and restore the faith that things can get better for a child.

As much as I find this work exhausting, I am also privileged to be part of their lives, when you hear the trauma and torment that they have been through I support them through my sessions, leave, and pray. That’s the only answer I can face the next session, with God.
My sessions are guided by the Holy Spirit, I invite him to me through each session to make sure that the child is getting the support that they need at that time. Make me patient, make me understand, it’s no longer an ask it’s a plea to God to get it bang on for the sake of the people I meet daily.
 
I am and perhaps will forever be God's most petulant child. In prayer, I generally am on location, and he is with me, If I am honest it's probably the only time I get away! I float between thanking him for my blessing and questioning him on why every stumble in life is a lesson, sometimes I would just like him to spell it out for me. Sometimes I question him on why he has let some of the tragedies happen in this world when I know he can do what man can’t.

I always think we are at odds sometimes, but he is a constant, he doesn’t change so I guess it’s just me at odds with God. My prospering and God prospering sometimes are not in sink the peace of trusting God that he will always look after me is fighting against my want to have a better.

Luckily for me, for all of us, he knows me better than anyone, his love is greater than anyone’s, and it's in these moments of quiet, still reflection that I am full of love for him, and I trust in his plan whatever the outcome may be.