What an amazing few weeks

It's been an incredible time. We've had worldwide concern for our welfare, seen the worst and best of humanity, and enjoyed ourselves immensely with some of the best friends we could wish for.
Two weeks ago I began the week expecting a normal-ish week and then the riots happened. Birmingham city centre became a scary place for a few days and I'm very grateful that for two days I was allowed to work from home. But apart from feeling a little exposed and vulnerable and there being a weird a sense of aggression and the occasional riot van I didn't witness anything except the fear of the unknown. Work allowed me to stay and work at home and so I actually really only heard the reports and watched the news with increasing alarm, thinking of my friends at work in the city centre. The weirdest thing was being there in the morning. The shop where I buy my breakfast sometimes was full of business owners also there to pick up food whose shops had been attacked. They were normal people, just having a really rubbish week and I felt so sorry for them. The sandwich shop where I buy my lunch was all boarded up after being looted; another independent retailer. My friend who lived in the city centre had been forced to walk home from work along Broad St and through a massive gang of lads ripping into every shop they could get their hands on. It was the proximity of it all and the feeling of being 8 months pregnant and very exposed. The weirdest thing actually was on a lunch break or when being evacuated we saw these 'youths' and you would normally have just walked past them unthinking, but there they were grinning and laughing about yesterday's axploits, bold as brass. I was furious with them for holding a whole city to ransom. A city, by the way, already struggling with enough financial problems. Talk about kicking a chap when he's already down.

But the week drew to a close. On the Friday I received messages of support from colleagues in London and India, and all the family in Spain had sent texts, even Laura holidaying in Boston with Luis and Eric had seen something was afoot. And how can you feel too upset with so many people caring about you?
That said on the Thursday night me and Alex were eating our dinner when the next door neighbour's house was broken into and riot vans and policemen turned up. I go for months without seeing policemen and in Birmingham I can honestly say I've always felt very safe. To suddenly discover your neighbour's house has been attacked while you're innocently tucking into your shepherd's pie is bizarre and not a little unsettling. I felt just as sorry for the neighbours (who were in at the time and ran for their lives out the back door)  as I did for the policeman who came and sat on our sofa and looked half dead with tiredness. The poor guy had workd 60 out of the last 70 odd hours and was on his last legs. He was awfully nice. Yet another victim of the looters. I had a nightmare that night about our house being attacked and Alex ending up dead, but otherwise have remained relatively sensible (if at times slightly highly strung).

That sunday I went to church with Emma. The sermons are always highly relevant to topical concerns at St Nicolas and Rev John talked about the looters' need for respect and forgiveness and forced me to take a good look at my own reactions. Had my anger (justifiable or not) been a Christian reaction? Probably not. No, I'd say not. Last night, 2 weeks after the service I said to Emma it was my turn to write the prayers and did she have anything she thought I should say and she said "Ask him to help the rioters never happen again and for us all to love each other". So in and amongst the sadness and confusion there is at least one 6 year old who's learned something valuable. Bless her.

After the riots came the fun...