Author: Vicki Goldby

Remembering Mum

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

This was taken a few short months before her diagnosis.

I’m 47, the same age as Mum was when her body let go and said enough. For two years she fought cancer, in the end it won. I want to tell my story, the story of a 13 year old and how I processed sickness and then as a 14 year old, how I processed her death. In part I want to give a voice to those who have walked the path I stumbled through and in part as a tool for me to work through this strange year, the year I become older than my mum. I’ve written it as a series of snapshots because that’s how memories are. It’s strange the things we remember and yet each memory is significant because it’s what our mind has chosen to recall and that in itself tells the story. People often say children are resilient and to an extent that’s true, but it’s not the whole story. Every childhood trauma leaves its mark and how it’s handled at the time by the surrounding adults is often what dictates how a child will heal. Dad was a mess after Mum died and unable to support me and therefore I bottled everything. In some ways I’m still working through it now and that’s ok, that’s one version of normal, because there is no normal, everyone is unique and so is their journey through grief. Telling our story is one cathartic way to help us heal, so here’s mine.

November 1990. It was the evening of the school dance competition. I was dressed in my costume ready to perform, ‘Big Spender’. We’d been rehearsing for months, ready to rip off our science overalls, pretending to be housewives and reveal our glamorous outfits portraying women escaping from drudgery. It was a mature theme, but we all thought it one big laugh and yet that night I was to begin to realise what adulthood meant.

The nerves were kicking in but Mum and Dad would soon be here and that would provide some calm in my stormy mind. I was ready to walk over to the sports hall, as it was our turn next. As I left the holding room I walked straight into Dad, he told me he needed to speak to me. “We’ve just come from seeing Mr Skilton, it’s cancer, you’ll be going home with Rachel”, no emotion from him or myself. Mum was there but she was hustled off and that was it. Ready to dance; just keep moving became my mantra.

The dance went off without a hitch, I was a good girl, no fuss, no tears, no feelings.

Rachel took me home to her house, I remember her house so well, the loft rooms of the dormer bungalow, the sliding cupboard doors with games. Every other memory of the next week has gone, no recollections, just emptiness.

The night before her surgery, to remove the cancerous section of her bowel and to reroute her bowel to form a stoma, Dad took us all out to a fancy French restaurant. Mum choked back the tears and played with her food. Dad had no idea how to handle this.

The day of the surgery we went to visit Mum. She was in a room on her own and was suffering with terrible heartburn. Dad went out to buy some peppermint cordial, I just sat with Mum. I loved her so much and I needed to be with her.

On return from hospital it was found she had an abscess on the site of the wound and so she went into the private hospital to have them attend to her. I liked that hospital, it was near my school and I went once and sat with her. We watched ‘My Step-Mother is an Alien’ and I ate delicious chicken sandwiches which the nurse brought me. That was a good day, I got to be with Mum.

When she got home a district nurse came to pack the wound each day, they were nice ladies and they made me feel safe, they were a calm presence in my world which was spinning.

One Friday, in an effort to rediscover normal, my parents picked my sister and I up from school, with pillows in the back of the car. We both knew what this meant, a weekend away. We were off to Wales, but I’m not sure for whose benefit? Mum spent the weekend in bed with Welsh district nurses coming each day to pack her wound.

Mum started to recover and one day she was having a bath and I accidentally walked in on her, I was so embarrassed and backed away, but she invited me in, she said I might as well see her stoma now. It was dark pink, like the inside of your mouth, it was on the left side of her tummy. I didn’t want to see it, but I didn’t want to make her feel bad, so I said it looked ok, what was I supposed to say?

For the next year Mum battled with her colostomy bag as the humiliation of life with her bottom on her front frequently assaulted her. I recall a holiday in Tunisia, in a beach hut toilet, she was trying to mop up the mess when her colostomy bag over-filled. As if that wasn’t enough, Mum started going through the menopause and I remember her desperately trying to clean up from the flooding that came each month, her body was being battered from every side.

I loved the days before she returned to work, she was increasingly well and I even came home from school once to a Victoria Sandwich. Soon she was well enough to go back to work and life started to briefly settle down.

February 1992. Mum was late picking me up from school, but finally her red Volkswagon Golf pulled up at our pre arranged spot. It was always a treat when Mum picked me up, she was a busy working woman and it was often Dad who got me after work. I climbed into the passenger seat. “It’s back” was all she said. I don’t remember anything else until the chemotherapy. Months of no memories as my mind blocked out what I couldn’t bear.

I remember the hair loss. Her efforts to style what was left, to hold on to her dignity. I remember the herbalist, a place where she collected brown bottles of hope, to go with the doctor’s brown bottles of morphine. She was never called terminal but everyday I climbed into her bed and she would ask me if she was going to die. I always reassured her she wasn’t, what was I supposed to say?

The Jehovah’s Witnesses kept coming round but thankfully their visits ended and the vicar’s began. Mum was looking for meaning, I suppose she was looking for God. I used to sit on her bed when the vicar prayed, I knew to bow my head, it was part of the process, but I felt nothing.

Dad was always sure she wouldn’t die, he regularly told her she would dance on his grave. No one danced.

July 18th. Her lips were blue and she had no energy. Dad said it would be good for her to get outside. It took an age, she shuffled down the stairs on her bottom and diligently sat in the deckchair.

July 21st. I had a school trip. As I left that morning, I said, “I love you”, she replied, “I love you too”, those were to be our parting words. All day I walked the Dovedale paths, not knowing my journey forwards would be much more treacherous. 3.30pm I was collected from school by the vicar and my sister. “Mum’s died” she said. I laughed. It wasn’t funny.

I got home the house was packed. Police and Mum’s friends filled the rooms. I needed to do something, to be busy. I saw a need to buy milk for the visitors’ cups of tea. I’d never done the three mile ride to the shop, on my bike, and I asked Dad if I could go. “Let her go” spoke up one of my Dad’s future girlfriends.

As the funeral neared, my sister and I went shopping and bought matching funeral clothes from River Island. Black pleated skirts and purple silk shirts.

I didn’t cry at the funeral, I felt like a fraud, embarrassed by my lack of emotion. The church was full of Mum’s pupils, she was a popular English teacher. I held my head down and tried to look sad. I needed to play my part, but I felt nothing.

The next day I got a summer job cleaning out cats. I worked, I felt nothing, keeping busy kept me from thinking. My childhood had officially ended.

It took 7 years for me to cry and then only briefly. I’ve been told you need to feel to heal. I’m trying, this post is a step.

Grief is complicated, childhood grief perhaps more so. But this isn’t the end of my story, because of God.

He stepped in and gave me himself, he called me and I became his child. When my mother had gone and my father was lost to drink and other women, he saw me, for he is ‘El Roi’ as Hagar referred to him in Genesis 16:13, ‘the God who sees me’.

He is also the God who cares for the orphan and he delights to ‘settle the lonely in families’ Psalm 68:6. He has done that for me. First he gave me a church family and then he gave me my husband and children, what a gracious God we serve!

Our eldest son recently got married to a wonderful young woman. Yet again he’s shown me his goodness and restored to me the broken years.

Everyday I am thankful for what he’s done. Sickness and death are part of our fallen world, but God is a redeeming God and he won’t leave us in the mess. He, ‘will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten’ Joel 2:25. He has a plan in our pain and will lead us through it, we just have to keep our eyes on him.

If you’ve got to the end of this, thank you for reading. Everyone has a story to tell, if you want to share yours, I’m listening.

Blessings to you all.

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Lord, Teach me to Pray…

Posted on by Vicki Goldby
This is a beautiful local lake where I am able to pray, whilst being surrounded by God’s creation.

Jesus was asked how we should pray and he responded by giving us the Lord’s Prayer, to lay out a model for us to follow. But Jesus taught us so much more about prayer through the example he set in His life. Through time alone, early starts, pulling all nighters, praying out loud or just acknowledging His Father’s presence, Jesus showed us what it means to ‘pray without ceasing’.

How can we in the twenty-first century West live the life of prayer practiced by someone who had none of our digital distractions and didn’t have children to raise or a house to clean? Can busy people really pray all the time?

Although Jesus didn’t have a wife and family, He had His disciples. They were young and needy and required so much teaching. He had three short years to teach them everything He could. He could have stressed about it and prioritised teaching over prayer or healing the sick but no, it was through His example that He taught them the most.

As a full time mum and homeschool teacher this really speaks to my heart. I often struggle to fit everything I want to teach into the week and yet, the phrase, ‘more is caught than taught’ would sum up how I believe Jesus wants my children to learn. Yes I teach maths, science, English, Bible, history etc, but I also read my Bible alone every morning and the children know I do this , I pray before we have morning school, before we eat, when we see an ambulance, hear a sad news story, hear about a need in our church, have an exam, see something beautiful and on and on. Prayer is the foundation of all that we do and it was recently that I realised the impact that had had.

One of our young adults had a bump with their car, afterwards they were shaken up but, after swapping details, drove on for a few minutes to a service station. It was there they sat down and realised they’d forgotten to pray. Twenty minutes post accident they reached out to God, but most importantly they explained to me that they couldn’t believe it had taken them so long! That was music to my ears, to know that they were beginning to understand that they have a Father who is ready to help them at any time and who delights in their company. Slowly the message is getting through, prayer is not optional, it’s essential.

When I googled images of prayer, I was presented with beautiful pictures of hands clasped together, eagerly petitioning the Lord.

Holy though this appears, this perception seems to stop many people from fulfilling the Biblical advice, to be, ‘praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication.’ Ephesians 6:18.

I often pray when driving, if I take my hands off the wheel and close my eyes to do this, I will indeed gain close communion with God, in Heaven!! Closing our eyes and putting our hands together enables us to focus on God, but it shouldn’t restrict us from praying at less quiet times.

So what is prayer? Is it talking to God? Listening to Him? Is it just being with Him? The answer is all three. We, as believers, are always in His presence, but until we acknowledge His presence it isn’t praying.

Perhaps I can use a worldly example to explain what I mean. When we are sitting with a friend, but we don’t acknowledge they are there, we aren’t growing our relationship, if anything we are driving a wedge between us. So too with the Lord, if we are to grow in our love for Him and know His will for us, we need to spend time with Him and trust He’s there helping and holding us. This doesn’t mean we have to stop everything we are doing and focus solely on Him, on the contrary, we can bring Him into the situation by casting our thoughts to Him.

This habit, of constantly looking to the Lord with our inner mind does not in any way preclude set prayer times, in fact I believe these are enormously important. I don’t believe it is necessary to rise from our morning prayer time with an Amen almost said as a goodbye, instead we can rise from prayer time with a change of pose, not a change of companion, for God walks out of our ‘prayer closet’ with us.

As I leave my morning prayer time I walk down the corridor and I’m met with so many needs within seconds…Mummy, where are my trousers? Mummy can I have breakfast? Mummy where’s my Maths? and on and on. My bleary-eyed body struggles forward, hearing the cacophony of voices and trying to process whose need is greatest. The secret to me not immediately retreating back into my room, and hiding under the duvet, is that it’s not me alone meeting all of these demands, but Christ in me. At this point I’ve already begun the day by thanking Him for my sleep, however short, and given Him the day, asking Him to fill me with His Spirit and allowing me to draw from His bottomless pit of patience. So I am armoured up, ready for the battle of fighting my own selfish desires and weaknesses.

When I flounder, which is often, it is because I have taken my inner eyes off Him, it is then that I sink. When I realise that this is happening I reach out my thoughts to Him and ask for Him to rescue me and every time He’s there, ready to help. Jesus’ disciple, Peter, could walk on water when he looked at Jesus, but as soon as he looked away he also started sinking, but Jesus rescued him, just as today He rescues us, we need only ask.

Perhaps this inner dialogue is easier for one, like me, who likes to write, or for a woman who never stops thinking? I’m not convinced this is true though, I just think it’s different. Men often sit in silence together, so perhaps prayer for them is, in part, a silent acknowledgement that Jesus is with them?

How we pray will always be personal, but one thing is for sure, we all need to do it. It’s more important than anything we do and yet it’s sadly neglected by many and because of that Christians are not living their life in all its fullness.

How about you? How do you, ‘pray without ceasing’, 1 Thessalonians 5:17? Please do share any ideas in the comments.

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When Insecurities Overwhelm us

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

I wrote the following post months ago and never published it, clearly I was so insecure, at the time, that I lacked the courage to share my thoughts. I must now be growing a little in confidence as I see this post may be of use to others out there who feel they lack the self confidence to step out of their comfort zone.

I miss writing so much, I find myself writing posts in my head when I wake in the middle of the night. It’s not just lack of time that has kept me from writing, but insecurity. When I first started the blog I had a confidence that came with the rush of support following our TV programme, it was that which kept me going, until about a year ago. As we’ve settled into our life in the country I’ve found myself reading other blogs and accepting that it’s all been said before and by people who know far more than me.

Perhaps that’s what I need to share, that even people with no experience and massive insecurities can leap out in faith and achieve great things with God’s help. That’s certainly been our experience. Both Phil and I often struggle to get our heads around how this life we live really happened.

Twenty-two years ago we were pregnant with our first child, living in a terraced house in suburbia. Phil was commuting daily to London and we assumed the trajectory of our life would be one of suburban conventionality. Never in a million years did we think we’d one day have ten children and own a small holding. It overwhelms us daily but it also delights us as we see the extravagance of God blessing us beyond our understanding. We don’t deserve all we have but we endeavour to give it all back to Him, for Him to use as He sees fit. Before we moved to the country I felt a strong pull towards a Bible verse and I memorised it because it seemed to stand out to me. It was from Malachi 3:10, it said, ‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the Lord Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.’ So that’s what we’ve done, we’ve committed everything we have to God and we are partaking in the plans He has for our family. ‘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.’ Jeremiah 29:11.

I don’t really see this house as my home, as others might, but rather Heaven is my home and this is the house God has called us to steward until He returns or takes us home. My job is to love and care for my husband, children, our house and anyone God puts in our path, until he tells us otherwise. I find this helps me to hold lightly to everything and to trust God in all the challenges.

I can’t really tell anyone how to raise children, grow veg, raise animals or keep a home, but I can share about the God who helps us in our weaknesses. ‘For when I am weak, then I am strong’. 2 Corinthians 12:10.

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New Year Resolutions

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

I love fresh starts, a crisp new book, a newly made bed or a freshly painted room. New Year is an opportunity I relish to claim a new start. I know any day can be a new beginning but new year seems a good place to begin.

Do you make resolutions and if so have you ever kept them all year? I’m not sure if I have kept any because I don’t write them down. That’s where you all come in, as I thought I’d share my resolutions here on the blog in the hope that you might just keep me accountable, I can but try!

New Year Resolutions 2025

  1. I plan to read or listen to the Bible more than reading articles or watching videos. I intend to listen to the Holy Bible app when I’m doing the washing, stacking/emptying the dishwasher and when I’m getting ready for the day. I love watching history videos but I need to get my priorities straight and Jesus needs more of my attention. Psalm 119:105, ‘Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.’
  2. This January I’m going to finish the book I’m reading, it’s called ‘Boundaries’. I’m a slow, easily distracted reader who reads the newspaper more than whole books. I plan to read 10 pages a day before bed. I tend to be a bit of a walkover, thinking it’s my Christian duty to be servant-hearted, but I’m reminded that Jesus had boundaries. He prioritised time with his Father and spoke up against the Pharisees hypocrisy. I want to be kind but also wise enough to know when to say no or walk away from a situation. Matthew 10:16, ‘I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.’
  3. I need to intentionally focus on the present. The here and now is always busy and requires my full attention. God doesn’t want me to dwell on the difficulties of the past or to fear for the future, as both steal our joy, instead he calls us to be thankful in all circumstances, remembering Psalm 118:24, ‘This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
  4. I hope to grow in self- confidence- I need to realise and accept who I am in the eyes of God, in order to find my true value as his child and thus embrace more fully all he has called me to do. Perhaps, in order to grow, I will read this Bible verse daily, which reminds me that I am important to God, Isaiah 43:1, ‘I have called you by name, and you are mine.’
  5. I plan to create more of a routine to my daily life; I’ve found this harder to achieve with several older children, with varying schedules. I need to lead by example and go to bed earlier and get up earlier. I crave routine particularly in a season where change is a daily occurrence due to growing teenagers and I know I am more productive when my choices are limited by established healthy habits. 1 Corinthians 14:40, ‘Let all things be done decently and in order.’

I hope you all have a blessed 2025. Do let me know if you’ve made any resolutions and we can keep each other accountable 😁

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Loving a God who Allows Suffering

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

I recently watched an interview with Stephen Fry, a self proclaimed atheist; he was asked why he didn’t believe in God. His response caught me off guard, but he had a point. He spoke of a capricious god who allows children to suffer from bone cancer and other such horrors, he asked why anyone would want to worship such a god?

Why should we worship someone who creates us in the knowledge that we will suffer? How can God create people who will choose Hell as their final destiny? How could he create Hitler, knowing the horrendous evil his life would usher in?

It’s the biggest stumbling block for many who wrestle with the truth of suffering and try to hold it in the balance against a God who claims to be Love. How can love and suffering sit side by side? I would never choose to let my children suffer, so why does our Heavenly Father allow us to suffer?

There are some in the Christian world who believe in the prosperity gospel, a false gospel which often claims that God is powerless to stop our suffering and it’s our faith that will enable our struggles to end. It claims we need to summon up the faith and all will be well.

It’s a lie though and it breeds failure and fear, for people die and it’s not because somebody didn’t have enough faith. In the Bible Jesus often said that people’s faith had made them well, but he was, in my opinion, referring to their faith healing their soul, bringing them to the Lord and to his love.

There are many examples of people who have suffered and yet their testimony is greater because of their suffering than it would have been if they had been healed.

I think of Joni Eareckson Tada who was paralysed as a teenager and yet has gone onto the receive so much grace from God that she has been able to paint beautiful pictures with her teeth and has encouraged so many people with her courage and faith.

Another amazing man who knows suffering is Nick Vujicic, a man who was born without arms or legs. At ten years old he nearly ended his life in the bath, but God spoke to his heart and he knew that God had made him for a purpose. He is now a Christian motivational speaker with a beautiful wife and four children. Nick says he keeps a pair of shoes in his cupboard because he knows God can heal him, but he believes that his ministry is greater with his disability than without.

So I’m left with a painful quandary, God is without a doubt real, Jesus walked the earth, died and rose again, the Bible states that God is love and yet this same God allows suffering. So disbelief isn’t an answer. Believing that he can’t do anything about it isn’t an answer. We can only believe in the real God who let’s us go through awful experiences. So what’s he doing about it?

The obvious answer is the cross. Jesus died so that those who love him can one day suffer no more because he suffered once and for all, for all our sin and pain.

But I want to speak on a more immediate level, for Heaven may be a long way off and we have to get through the days on earth first. I can only speak from my own experience.

I am learning that suffering happens but God gets involved. He puts people in our path to help us, He shows his love through His body, the Church, He gives us grace to walk through the darkest days, one minute at a time.

It seems to me that if God took away all our suffering we often wouldn’t turn to him. Where’s the testimony if we avoid everything bad? A comfortable life leaves no space for God’s hand to be visible.

I am still coming to terms with my love for my God who says He loves us and yet I can’t trust that he won’t let bad things happen to those I love. What I can trust though is that he will carry me through everything and that the waters will not overwhelm me. Sometimes grief and mental anguish can feel so enormous that we can’t overcome it and that’s true, but in the strength of God we can and each and every minute we need to turn our thoughts to God, who will light our path to walk another step.

Grief and mental health difficulties, in my experience, feel like a pitch black tunnel, we can’t see any way out of the darkness and if we walk without a guide we will stumble and fall. But if we ask the Light of the World to show us the way forwards, he will and we will see a way out, it may be a long way off, it maybe that we can only see a pinprick of light but if we keep following the Light, we’ll find our way forwards.

I pray for each of you reading this that the Lord Jesus Christ will meet with you today and lead you through whatever you go through. Sending blessings to you all, Vicki

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Time Travelling

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

The deafening silence from my sleeping keyboard has been calling me for weeks. My notable absence from blogging has grieved my writer’s urge but equally allowed space for emotions to flow and practicalities to be overcome.

Life has been exceptionally busy and sometimes hard, but God has made a way for me to rest. Last week our internet provider turned off our connection 8 days early, before our new provider was due to connect us up. As our telephone also uses the internet and mobile signal is limited out here in the sticks, we have been out of communication with the world for over a week. We asked the provider to sort out their mistake, but they had no protocols in place for such an event. So that was it, nothing could be done and so we decided to make the best of it. I mean it’s not been that many years since we all lived very happily without the internet, surely we wouldn’t miss it that much, would we?

I’m fairly technophobic and so I delighted in the concept of being disconnected, but how was in reality? How did it impact the family, Phil’s work and the teenagers? What did we miss? What did we gain?

With no internet to distract us, we took the opportunity to spend a day out as a
family at Chirk Castle

Phil’s work was the greatest priority and he quickly found a solution. He set up office at his parents’ house, who live 10 minutes away. This worked very well in general. He missed his big screens and he wasn’t able to step back into the office at 10pm for a weekly meeting with the States, but largely his work felt little impact. Here at home we missed Daddy’s input. Questions from the builders, currently renovating some of our property, were unanswerable by me; with shaky mobile signal I sometimes had to stand on the drive scrabbling for a couple of bars of connection just to ask a simple question. An issue with the chicken feeders and the cow’s water trough showed up another of Phil’s tasks he quietly gets on with, which the children and I had to fumble our way through to find solutions.

The teenage girls discovered that they could get some connection if they climbed the scaffolding and sat on the roof of the barn! Desperation drove these young ladies to these drastic measures as they spent several happy nights chatting to friends in the twilight. I’d hoped it would disconnect all of us, but sadly where there’s a will there’s a way and their technical know how found a way.

The younger children missed out on some online lessons, some reading and apps, but largely they didn’t notice the lack of connection. We still had DVDs for afternoon rest time and so life for them just went back a decade. I personally felt much more at home as a parent. Technology is moving so fast and I often feel that the children keep up but I’m still scrabbling around, feeling like a time traveller from the year 2000.

I did miss some things. I missed by word quizzes, downloading podcasts and searching for recipes. I didn’t miss google doctor. We’ve had a couple of health incidences this week and I’m sure I would have wasted hours googling how to deal with these situations the answers I would have found would have undoubtedly plagued me with anxiety. Google often reminds me of the health encyclopaedias we had pre internet; whatever symptom you had, by the time you’d followed the pathway the book sent you on, you had to see a doctor immediately, as your condition could be life threatening. It was a classic situation of a simple headache being a brain tumour! I always swore I would never get one of those books but now we have the internet; health anxiety in the general population has skyrocketed, I suspect there’s a correlation.

Perhaps the greatest thing I’ve learned is how I can waste time or use it wisely. I can read an edifying book or I can read the drivel in the newspaper. I can scroll through Instagram or I can paint or draw. I can browse through YouTube or I can listen to a pre-downloaded podcast, already selected for its soul nourishing content. I can read someone’s opinions or I can read the Word of God.

Time is a gift and God gave me more of it this week. The gift continues to give as I have come to see my time in a new way. It’s so easy to get lost on a device scrolling and searching and yet the answers will often elude us. Sometimes we need empty head space to hear God’s voice.

The irony isn’t lost on me, that the silence of my sleeping keyboard could only be awakened when the noise of the world, via the web went silent.

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Routine, Attachment Parenting or Is There a Third Way?

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

When I stated my parenting journey I was fairly fresh out of college, where I trained as a nanny. Surely I knew how to care for a newborn? Although Norland was a great college, they never gave us a singular method of baby raising, instead they encouraged us to work with parents and follow their preferred style. This was all well and good but now I was the parent and I had no idea what style of parent I was!

Without a mum to give me answers I looked to books and other women to advise me. One of the parents I had worked for as a nanny had recommended ‘The Contented Little Baby Book’, a book which is like marmite, you either love it or you hate it. Inside its pages were the answers every sleep deprived parent craved, a guarantee that if you followed her advice, your baby would be contented and sleep through the night at an early age.

Our 6pm bath routine is something we’ve definitely moved on from, but its routine was so helpful to me when I had nothing else to structure my day.

As soon as our son was born I implemented the routine. I lived and breathed the schedule and by 16 weeks Christopher was sleeping through the night having hardly cried at all during his first few months. I thought I had all the answers, what a pain I must have been!

When Christopher was just a few months old I joined La Leche League, a mum to mum breastfeeding support group. I was the only mum in the group who had a child who slept alone in a cot and I felt an element of embarrassment to even mention the word routine. Having said that, the leader was one of the most gracious Christian women I have ever met and simply met me where I was at. She encouraged me on my breastfeeding journey and showed me what it was to love people with whom you shared different opinions.

La Leche League taught me the skill of breastfeeding anywhere, something that has been very helpful to me over the years. It’s given me freedom to go anywhere, knowing my baby’s needs can be met instantly.

After our second child was born I increased in smugness, as he slept through the night at 9 weeks. Then at 7 months we had a major sleep regression and I ate large chunks of humble pie. For 4 months sleep evaded us both, I tried controlled crying, sleeping in his cot bed with him, you name it I tried it. Then one day I happened upon an article on ‘The Contented Little Baby’ website which suggested overtiredness as a possible cause of night waking. This was a revolutionary idea to me, as a 7 pm bedtime had been religiously kept to in our house. So I bit the bullet and put him to bed 20 minutes early, and that was the miracle I needed, he slept through the night every night following this intervention. I learnt so much from those incredibly hard months, humility, new techniques, letting go of firmly held ideas and I learnt that I can cope with more than I realised.

After this I really saw an evolution in my parenting style. After our 3rd child was born I accepted that afternoon naps at home, in the dark of the nursery, would be impossible to implement. A new approach was needed and I began to find my way.

This was a holiday we took in the Lakes. This sling has done me well and freed me up to go anywhere with our babies.

Over the years of raising our 10 children I have found my style of mothering. I feel led to share what I know because maybe another young mum needs to find another way, a way that is not attachment parenting or routine, but is a combination of both. I cannot promise your baby will sleep through the night at an early age but ours have all learnt to sleep through the night and they are all secure children.

Here’s an average day for a young exclusively breastfed baby in our house: (all timing are approximate). It’s a very basic overview, but it’s a starting off point.

8am-wake the baby, feed, change nappy and pop them in a bouncy chair watching the family until they appear to look tired, but if you miss the sleepy window, don’t worry, we can set things back on track.

Around 9-9.30 pop them in the sling or pushchair and walk them to sleep (I breastfeed a really overtired baby to sleep whilst wearing them in a sling, I use a Connecta sling)

They’ll probably sleep for quite a while at this nap, but regardless I wake them for their next feed.

11am feed, nappy change, play

12 ish, sling or pushchair for a nap

If they wake during their nap, feed or rock them back to sleep.

2pm feed, nappy change, play

3.30pm nap in sling or pushchair

5pm feed, nappy change, play

7-8pm – feed and sleep in the sling whilst putting everyone else to bed, cleaning the kitchen and reading stories whilst standing and bouncing! I do a lot of jigging and rocking in the early evenings.

9 pm- I finally sit down and baby wakes up! Change nappy if needed and then we play until I go to bed.

10-11pm-we both go to bed. I have a cot bed attached to our bed as an extension to our bed and our young babies sleep there until 6-8 months. Once they have fallen asleep I keep the lights dim all night and just roll over for night feeds.

Life with tinies is always demanding, but the way we do it helps the older children not to feel pushed out, as the baby is content most of the day. This way gives me my hands free to cook or teach and it also gives me some predictability as to when I need to stop for feeds and nappy changes.

If anyone wants to implement these ideas and has any questions, please feel free to ask. This is just my way and it may not work for anyone else, please take what is useful to you and leave the rest.

Parenting styles are not binary choices, routine and discipline are not mutually exclusive of security and attachment. As parents we haven’t got it all figured out, but I just wanted to share these ideas, as a starting point for mums, who want an approach to mothering which is routine based, but with compassion and a large dose of reality.

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What’s it like having ten children?

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

It’s a constant adventure. Every day feels like a commission from God. Take yesterday for example. Christopher and Jonathan had been away for the weekend with about 50 young adults, enjoying a time of worship and fellowship together; following this they decided to come back to our home, with about about 20 of their friends to enjoy a barbecue together. The spontaneity of this was wonderful and added fun and adventure into our weekend. Seeing so many young people, loving the Lord and hanging out together at our home brought huge joy to my heart.

The day before Madeleine had a trick riding lesson, as a birthday gift. It was wonderful to see the smile on her face as she conquered new skills pushing herself to the edge of her capacity. She’s also learning to drive, with Phil’s help, and is making great progress.

Seeing these older children stepping out into the world is such a joy. It’s clear to see God is with them, giving them opportunities and support at every turn. It’s such an encouragement when I’m parenting the younger children, to know that all the challenges will be worth it, as we can trust that God is going to guide our children every step of the way and their future is safe in his hands.

Every day is a challenge and an opportunity to seek God. Some days there are tears and tantrums, there are so many meals to cook, clothes to wash and lessons to learn, but there’s so much good in all of that.

Every single task is a God-ordained commission and with that attitude it becomes a way to love and serve God. It becomes a way for him to grow us and draw us nearer to him. Each success can be a pat on our own backs or an opportunity to thank God for his gifts and his help with everything.

It’s all perspective. We believe that we are not succeeding because we are great, we are not raising these children well because of our efforts, it because God is with us. We pray constantly for his help. Every task can be preempted with a prayer, even just a brief arrow prayer. Every achievement can be cloaked in thanksgiving.

I am constantly aware that these are very blessed days and harder days may be just around the corner, but I don’t fear for the future, because God is already there. There is nothing ahead that he will not prepare us for, give us grace for and walk alongside us in.

Practically speaking having ten children is a full and wonderful life. Spiritually speaking it’s the way that God is drawing me to him. I can’t do any of this in my strength and so I reach out to the source of all strength and there I meet him and he never sends me away lacking exactly what I need for the tasks ahead.

When Siblings become Friends

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

After my somewhat melancholy post last week I thought I’d step into a more joy-filled sphere and share what we’ve been up to.

Christopher has been home for a few weeks, whilst waiting for his new job to start. It’s been absolutely wonderful having him home. He’s been an enormous help with all the big jobs on the land and he’s just been a joy to have around. He’s 21 now and it seems that maturity has really begun to take a hold. He’s thankful, polite, kind, helpful and everything I pray my children grow up to be. It gives me such hope, because he was a really challenging child, full of energy and very difficult to engage with schoolwork. It’s so good to see all that energy being put to good use helping us and also when he’s working on the farm where he’s now employed. God had a great plan when he gave us our little whirlwind, but we didn’t know that on the tough days when his frustration would wear us all out.

Jonathan and Christopher recently climbed Scarfell Pike, another opportunity to use their boundless energy. Jonathan was on his way back from a trip to Scotland, as part of his degree, and Christopher met up with him, so that they could meet the challenge of climbing England’s highest mountain. They took a very difficult route, in the snow and with 80 mile an hour winds, but they made it and built a deeper friendship with one another in the process.

Madeleine is loving college and is now home for Easter. A couple of days ago, Jonathan was on his way back from Portsmouth and he spontaneously decided to pick Madeleine up from college and he took her out for dinner. These are the moments that warm this mother’s heart and give me strength to keep going. To know that my children are friends with one another means so much and fills me with joy.

Elizabeth and Madeleine chose to go shopping together today. It’s interesting seeing their different styles emerging and watching them banter over whose style is best! In all the jokes over town versus country style, they still seem to enjoy each other’s company.

Matthew, Hannah and Stephen are busy making a film with some of their home educating friends. Together they have written a script and are busy making costumes, props and learning editing skills. This is all on top of their schoolwork, but seems to be teaching them a huge amount, all without my input, it’s a win win.

Michael, Katie and Timothy are currently into den building and love making dens out of cushions. Now the weather is warming up they are all going outside to play a lot more (I’m always relieved when Spring arrives). Katie and Michael use our driveway as we used to use our street, riding their bikes up and down, without me needing to watch them every second. I’m so grateful for God’s provision of our drive, and land, which gives the children the freedom they need to thrive. Timothy has recently made firm friends with the sheep, who have taken up residence in the field behind our house. Everyone in the family takes it in turns to take him outside, so that he can watch his ‘baas’ (he can’t say sheep yet!).

Phil and I are as ever very busy, but knowing we are doing what God has called us to gives us both peace, even in the storms. We are a team and together, with God at the centre, each day seems to work out. God is good.

I asked the children if I’d ever done anything to help with the process of them becoming friends and one thing did stand out. I’ve always taught the children to appreciate the unique gifts each of us has and to work together as a team. If we can embrace the differences and work with them, we can get lots more done and find value in each and every person. It’s a work in progress and sometimes the differences spark frustration, but on the whole I think this approach has considerable merit. The other thing I do consistently is pray. I pray for each of them to become friends, to value their differences, to love each other and for each of them to put Christ first in their lives. None of us can really get along with awkward people unless Jesus helps us and there is often no one more awkward than siblings. With all these different personalities, it is Jesus who becomes the most essential family member, to keep the peace and by His spirit to help us all to love one another.

Raising our large family is a huge blessing and one I never expected, it’s a daily challenge, but I’d have it no other way. With Jesus at the heart of all we do, it’s a blessed life and a brilliant adventure.

I like it keep it real and I could mention, children squabbling, endless washing, never enough time and yet those things really aren’t important. When we look at the big picture it’s really beautiful and the difficulties we experience add character to the canvas of our lives. If I had my choice, I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I thank God for giving us the faith and the strength to do what He has called us to do.

Sending blessings to you all, Vicki

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What’s in a Name?

Posted on by Vicki Goldby

It’s been a while since I last wrote, as I find some things must be thought and not communicated, thus the silence from my pen. Thoughts have been whirling round my mind, permeating my heart, some breaking it and others healing. Matthew (aged 13) often reminds me, when he’s tidying, that you have to break the egg before you make the omelette, and that’s never truer than when you are unpicking the strands of the past.

Sometimes memories open up and perhaps, to continue the metaphor, we need to allow God to make the omelette in order to see why he allowed them to break out of their shell in the first place.

I personally find memories locked away far less troublesome than ones which spill out and whisk around my mind. And yet…I’m beginning to see God forming something beautiful from the broken past I’ve recalled. Our God wastes nothing, and there’s nothing we have done, or been through, which he won’t ultimately use for our good and his glory.

One of the difficulties I have had, which I feel able to share, has been with my name. Vicki. Victoria Charlotte. It’s a pleasant enough name, but I was struggling to take ownership of it and I couldn’t fathom why. Phil calls me Sweetheart, to the children I’m Mum or Mummy, to my sister I’m Vicks and to my dad I was Wix. The last person, who really loved me, to regularly use my name was my mum. That was over 30 years ago, before she passed away. Vicki was important to her, loved and wanted, and yet when she died, so, in some ways, at least by name, did Vicki. It seems here lay the root of my issue. Mum and I were a very attached pair. I have the sweetest memories of sitting in bed with her, as her illness progressed, just cuddling. I loved those last months in many ways, she was finally not busy and had time to just be. It’s a lesson I try and remember when I’m running round after the children, they don’t need me to be super mum, they just need me to be present and full of love.

Realising that this problem with my name needed fixing, I asked God to help me embrace the name I was given, for God says, in Isaiah 43, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine.

My parents may have chosen my name, but in His sovereignty, God guided their choices. So in many ways this is God’s name for me. It was only after research that I discovered the real meaning behind my name, Victoria Charlotte. It means, victorious free woman. I love that. In Corinthians God says that we have, ‘the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ’, and then in in Galatians 5 we are reminded that, ‘It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.’ Yes, I am free in Christ from sin and all the consequences of it, both my own sin and the sins of those who have sinned against me. I am also victorious, because in Jesus we have victory over sin, both past, present and future.

What is it that damages each of us? It’s sin, it’s the consequences of living in a fallen world. Death, sickness and emotional pain are all consequences of the Fall. Even those who have had an idyllic childhood are not immune to the effects of sin. The wonderful news is that Christ is the antidote. By handing over everything, past, present and future to Him, we can be free. All pain, physical, emotional or mental won’t necessarily disappear, but we will have the grace to no longer be slaves to it, we need no longer, ‘be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.’ (Galatians 5:1).

As I have navigated my way through these stormy memories I have constantly felt God’s presence at the helm and finally I think I might have spotted land ahead, a green and pleasant land.

I have found hope, and like the hope of Spring, it is not a vague hope, but a certainty that brighter days are ahead.

I do love hearing from you all, so please feel free to share whatever you feel led to, I know it will be a blessing to each of us.

Sending blessings to each of you, Vicki

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