On a journey...

If you want to loose your voice completely, I recommend you go to a high school reunion with an already sore throat. Strain your voice for 4 hours as you try to have conversations while competing with the noise (sound or music to some ears) of a hip-hop concert and it’s crowd, and voila, no voice. It’s works. I tried it. Woke up the morning after and my voice was gone. I must admit it was pretty croaky at the end of the evening, but nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t take care of…I thought. I was wrong. I ended up spending the 23rd, 24th, and 25th of December silent. It was a frustrating, but also slightly enlightening experience. Frustrating for obvious reasons like not being able to communicate, having to merely listen to conversations I’d have like to be a part of, and getting very tired from trying to utter the few words I did utter as a matter of necessity. I also noticed that when the ability to speak is gone (well, not completely as I was able to say the absolutely necessary

This week I’ve been traipsing through shop after shop with my eyes peeled to see if I can spot items which qualify as worthy candidates for Christmas presents. I must say that yesterday I almost gave up under the pressure. There is such pressure! Not from those I am buying presents for, most of them don’t even have a wish list, but from society. There is such pressure to buy more, buy better, and buy more expensive. It almost gets a bit much sometimes. I suddenly realized that presents are probably one of the main stresses of Christmas. What do you buy for people who have everything, and who if they need something simply go out and buy it? I mean there is a limit to how much you can spend in an attempt to upgrade whatever electronic gadget they last acquired. And with all of this on my shoulders I almost wish we could just forget about the presents. Don’t get me wrong, I like both getting and giving presents, but it’s just a bit much. And it totally takes the focus away from the real r

I am sat here at the airport in Oslo writing this. My fingers are quite cold as I am sat in a chair next to a gate, and the passengers are in the process of boarding the flight (not my flight). The open door lets in gushes of cold winter wind, which together with the white runways I can see through the window beside, me remind me of the fact it is still winter (not that I’d forgotten, having survived –10 degrees Celsius the past few days). Sat here it is sinking in that I have now come to the end of another chapter in my life. I have now moved out of my room at Grimerud, and have managed to get (almost) all of my belongings into my suitcase which is probably somewhere in the airport, waiting wherever they store luggage which is to be put on the planes. Packing up my stuff and clearing out my room, I realized once again that I really do not like packing very much. And I also started reflecting on the fact that I always, no matter where I’m heading or how long it is for, manage to have j

This last week I was noticing that one of my teeth was a bit rough around the edges. It puzzled me a bit, but the conclusion I drew was that it was probably just a filling that needed to be taken a look at. Not wanting to face the hassle of finding and getting to a dentist here, I decided to get a tooth-check-up when I got home. It was not to be. This weekend as I was biting into a scrumptious gingerbread cookie (I think it was angel-shaped), there was a bit more crunchiness than normal. After having swallowed the cookie I discovered to my horror that one of my teeth was missing a chunk. It being the weekend there wasn’t much I could do. The tooth didn’t hurt, but my tongue was quite painful as every time I spoke, or ate, or drank, or really just was, it would scrape against the sharp edges of the tooth. Quite painful (not recommended)! And my speech got a bit slurry, because obviously I was trying to minimize damage when speaking. Safe to say I wasn’t quite myself. Anyway, this mornin

And then I was getting close to change again. I was hoping that maybe a lot of change in quick succession would make the experience of being rooted up yet again a bit less tough, but it seems like that isn’t the case. I do have peace though. Peace about what lies ahead, and peace about the steps forward. My time here at Grimerud is rapidly drawing to a close. In a mere 9 days I get on the plane, this time to move back home to my parents house for a while. I have loved it so much here at Grimerud. It feels like a home of sorts. My small, but more than sufficient room, has become the familiar, and the girls I share a house with have become like sisters. I will miss the fellowship, friendship, fun times, and numerous cups of tea (Earl Grey of course). And so the journey commences again, although being here was by no means a time of standing still. More a time of being in one location, yet moving on a different level. This time I am being taken back to IHOP-KC in Kansas City (my flight lea

Yesterday evening when I was at our “Longing for His Glory” service/meeting in the barn at Grimerud (more like an ex-barn, as there are no longer cows there- which makes it a lot more agreeable to be in for a worship-service I am sure!), I felt a bit of God’s heart for people. The meeting was fine, although I found it hard to really focus on what was going on and I felt kind of distracted by nothing in particular (sometimes that’s just the way it is, and I am sure I’m not the only one who’s had days like that). Towards the end of the preaching there were a few people who were on their way to leave. They seemed a bit agitated, and were not your “typical” churchgoers. I decided to go and at least make a point out of saying that it was nice they had come, and acknowledge them. I discreetly strolled to the back near the door, and kind of “hung around”. As they came towards me, the man approached me straight away and asked me what the name of this place was, because he wanted to call a taxi

I just got two emails letting me know that two of my friends have died. One was an older woman I got to know when she came out to Fortaleza on two teams in 2001 and 2002. She was a wonderful woman full of life and with tons of wisdom. Now she’s gone home and has found rest. The other is a friend who went to university with me. We hadn’t been in touch much, but were in touch enough for his wife to include me when she sent out an email about his death. I don’t know what happened. He was born the same year as me. Sat here in my room, having gotten back from a weekend at home, where I spent lots of time with my wee niece who is only 7 weeks old, it’s really hitting home how precious life is. There is such a huge contrast when I think about this tiny baby who has many years of experiencing life ahead of her; and then about my friend who experienced the fullness of life and who has now gone home to Jesus; and then my friend who died too young leaving behind a young family to learn how to cop

I think it’s safe to say that winter is here. Last week we had a bit of snow, only a few flakes so nothing to get a Norwegian soul too excited by, but all the former puddles are now ice-covered and slippery (and great fun to trample on and break the ice). A few weeks ago I cycled into Hamar, one of the neighbouring towns, and on my way back it was getting colder. The before just wet road, was now quite icy. Having cycled quite carefully most of the way home, I built up a bit of courage (mixed with a desire to get home quicker) as I was approaching the penultimate turn. However, being in the shade, the asphalt in that turn was icy, and the front wheel of my bike slid and I fell off the bike. Thankfully the bike was fine (it was borrowed so obviously my main concern), and I didn’t break any bones either. I did manage to graze my knee and hand, and my new jeans (which I spent an entire day finding) got a hole in the knee. Still, I do recognise that I was lucky. Cycling without a helmet (v

I seemed to be moving around a lot in October. Thankfully I am now back at Grimerud, and I think I’ll be here for a bit now…at least more than 3 days (I’ve been back 4 days now, so that is already true). Plus it’s now November, so I know for certain that there will be no more moving in October (unless I travel back to the future which I think is highly unlikely). I wonder if I’ll ever experience smooth transitions…seems that every time I go from one place to another there is always a period of adjusting. I suppose that is normal, but I am hoping it will get less tiring as life passes. At least heaven is for eternity, right. Being home for the week was just what I needed. After being around lots of people in Kansas City (travelling in a group cuts down on introvert-recharging-on-your-own time), and then going straight into home-days which meant lots of people all day, it was lovely to get home to space and few people. During the days I had the house to myself. Great both to get some muc

Time went by so fast, and just as I was getting into the swing of things and starting to feel “settled” (if it is at all possible to settle anywhere in 10 days), it was time to leave. Sat here in my living room at home in Sandnes (I am home for a week or so as I became an aunt on the 6th of October and naturally had to take the trip down here to meet little Miriam Elise), I am trying to think back and remember what it was like. My mind and heart are packed with impressions. Some I manage to put into words, others are there but hard to express. I am still digesting, but thought I’d get started on jotting down some of the things that remain with me. The thing that most impacted me was beyond doubt the prayer room (www.ihop.org) at the International House of Prayer. Being a part of 24/7 prayer and worship was amazing. I was also really blessed by the seminars and teachings I received from IHOP-KC. I went on this trip for that purpose, and did not leave disappointed. The GOD TV channel bro

It is really good to be here. It feels right. It's now 23:30 (local time) and I just got back from the prayer room. They do 2 hour shifts for the worship/prayer teams which minister and I did an hour with one and then an hour with the next one. It was amazing how they overlapped and there was no stop in between the two teams. This is truly continuous prayer and worship 24/7. So yeah, it's been good so far. I've been to two services in the church connected with the IHOP centre, and one seminar which was in conjunction with the Women's conference they had here this weekend. And on the more "touristy" side I've had food and junk-food at various establishments, and I realize that everything is big and generous, and distances "are not as near as they may seem". Yesterday I had my first drive (as in me driving) here. We've rented some minivans and I am signed up as one of the drivers. It was great to drive. Automatic gear, power stearing, comfy sea

I have finally made it to the USA. I can't say it's "always" been a dream of mine to come here, but it is fascinating and really cool to actually be sat here writing this breathing in what I know is american air (or air-conditioning). After lots of horror stories of how mean immigration had the potential to be, I was very pleasantly surprised by my getting in to the land of dreams. The immigration officer was really friendly and smiley and the whole process was very quick and painless. As I walked into the terminal of the airport in Minnesota (we were connecting with another flight to take us all the way to Kansas City) I think I walked around with my mouth open (well, maybe not literally but on the inside I was). I was like a child that is just overwhelmed by impressions. It looks exactly as I expect it. I recognised so many names of places and brands from the many films I've seen, it was great. So yes, I got here safely. And I am full of impressions even after

It’s almost midnight. I’m packed and ready for my 10-day trip to Kansas City. My suitcase is half-full, so plenty of room for bringing back presents. Actually, it feels strange to have a half-full suitcase; I’m so used to packing and re-packing to meet weight and amount limitations. I wasn’t really stressed about going off on this trip. Mostly I was just excited, but now I’m not so sure. No reason other than that it doesn’t feel like a short trip. For me a long-haul flight means Brazil. It usually means heading off for another long period of time, and it usually means setting off to face numerous difficult situations and challenges head-on. But it’s all good. This is not a trip like that. It’s a trip where I hope to meet with God. It’s a trip where I am travelling with a group rather than alone. It’s a trip where everything has been prepared for me and I just have to go along and “enjoy the ride”. I am looking forward to it, and I wish we were on our way already. However, we leave in 4

Life is a strange thing. Last week went…not much happened, and then it was over. The weekend was quite calm without too many wild and exciting things happening. Except, of course, a wee outing to watch the National Championship for Veteran Ploughing. Now, like me, you might be sadly lacking an understanding of what this actually means. So I am delighted to be able to enlighten you in this respect. It’s basically (for the “farm-language-illiterate” like myself) a competition where you use old (hence the name “veteran”) tractors and ploughs, and plough up a stretch of field which is then evaluated and the one scoring the highest sum (accuracy, depth, how well the soil is turned is all given points) wins. I must admit that this information I got by eavesdropping on a conversation next to me where a man was explaining to some of my friends how it all works. So that was a fun adventure….although we only stayed for a bit. What is sort of occupying my mind at present is my upcoming travel abr

Can’t sleep. It’s almost 1 am, but I am wide-awake (written with my eyes wide open and no yawns in sight). I don’t know why. I had a cup of tea around 21h30, but that’s it. And honestly, I think my body is way beyond being affected by a cup of tea, taking into consideration the vast amounts of caffeine it’s been subjected to over the years. I managed to connect with a couple of my very good friends in Fortaleza today, and I think my conversations with them are mulling around in my mind. It’s funny how as soon as I hear their voices I am transported back, and feel like I am right there with them. And it is funny how as they share about what is going on with people and situations I catch myself saying “we should do…” and “I think we…” It’s good to hear good news. Hear of how the toughest youth prison I only made it into once is now asking us to come in and work regularly with them. Hear of how one of the coordinator in another prison became a Christian. Hear of how the boys on the farm a

Seeing fields and trees changing colour daily (read: becoming brown and yellow rather than other colours) keeps amazing me. Autumn has arrived, no use denying it; the summer is definitely over. As the weather gets colder I am appreciating the small (or maybe not so small) things. Everyday when I go out in the morning I do the “breath-test”. Now, if you live in a climate that is warm, meaning that it rarely goes below or near zero, you probably won’t know what I am talking about (unless you’ve seen it in films, where I suppose it’s quite frequent when people are out in cold weather or trapped in a freezer-room). Am I puzzling you? Well, the “breath-test” (my name for it) is when you go outside, and it’s so cold that your breath looks like smoke when you breathe out. It’s really quite interesting, and I remember that as a child it was really cool to pretend that it was smoke coming out of my mouth rather than air being rapidly cooled down. Yesterday was a very exciting day because I lear

It’s been a while since I last wrote. Life has continued without huge happenings. I am settling into the “every-day” life of the base, and in myself. An every-day life which is very different from any “every-day” I’ve had before in my life. Different from Brazil of course, but also different from living at home and those years at university in Leeds (oh, so very very long ago…counting the number of years makes me feel a wee bit old, so I won’t count them…). One thing I am learning to appreciate is going for long walks (actually I don’t go that far, but I walk for a good amount of time which I guess is what we mean when we say a “long walk”). Well, they might not be “long” for some of you, but for me going out walking for the sole purpose of walking isn’t something I really do much. For one, the years in Fortaleza kind of ruled out “going for walks” as “walking” in a crowded city centre sort of defeats the purpose when the aim of walking is to get some space and fresh air (trust me, the

The past two weeks have been a huge concoction of new and old experiences, which all kind of melt into me feeling like I’ve actually been here lot longer than two weeks. You know how sometimes you feel like you’ve known someone for ages, when really you’ve only just met them? In many ways that is how it feels here at Grimerud. Seeing the girls I share a house with everyday seems so normal, and the other people around don’t feel like people I’ve just met. It’s good because I feel like part of here rather than a visitor, but at the same time I feel a bit rootless, not quite knowing where to direct my energy and passion; being in a place where I don’t really have a set purpose and goal to work towards. The days have been varied, but surprisingly non-hectic and non-busy. During the day I’ve been helping out with hospitality. It find it strange when people comment “oh, so you’re the hostess today”, because really I feel more like I’m helping out where needed. Last week there were many rooms

As I walked wheeling the trolley containing two suitcases and a rucksack (belonging to my middle brother who has bought himself a new one) I felt tears stinging in my eyes and threatening to push their way out. I suddenly felt so very small and the airport so very big. I’d got off my 45 minute flight from Sola to Oslo, got my bags from the baggage claim (the airline I flew with lets you decide how many bags of luggage you want to take against a small fee, and so I was able to bring not one suitcase weighing 20 kilos, but a suitcase and a rucksack), bought my train ticket for the last leg of my journey, and was walking along in search of a cup of coffee and a waffle to kill the half hour till the train. Walking along I caught myself thinking about this new stage in life. I wondered why this move up to the YWAM base here in Norway seemed so huge, when moving to Brazil obviously was a bigger move, at least further away. And then it occurred to me that when I’d been travelling back and for

I don’t know if it’s getting closer to another change, or if it’s because we had a nice sunny day on Monday, but I am really missing Fortaleza a lot right now. I find myself frequently with tears in my eyes, remembering people I hold so close to my heart. Getting emails from people there makes me feel closer, yet also further away as an email only expresses a fragment of the whole picture. We all perceive and express and feel things differently anyway, don’t we. When Andrew emailed to say that Lisa is close to having her baby and had spoken of me, it made me want to go there and be with her. Be with her in this important and insecure time of her young life. Be with her with encouragement and support. Be with her and show her that she is worth going the extra mile for. It brings back memories of 5 years ago getting up at the crack of dawn to take 15 year-old Rachel to the pre-natal care offered for free on Friday mornings by some Catholic nuns, and getting to go with her to get an ultra

It’s been ages since I’ve written now. I guess being uninspired by, surprise surprise, rainy summer weather! Yes, we’ve had rain, rain, and, wait for it…more rain here in Norway too. Records have been broken in the amount of rain we’ve had (I actually heard of someone who is into statistics and measuring the weather conditions, who was very excited about that. I think he tried to act sympathetic to the general majority opinion that the weather this summer has been pants, but he had to admit that he actually thought it was great to see records broken). To add to the rain (for those of you who are used to rain in tropical climates) it’s been cold! Last week I was driving to work in the morning and the car thermometer showed a shocking 11 degrees Celsius in JULY!!! I think the writing part of my brain has suffered from hypothermia or something, or maybe I’ve just not had anything really exciting to write about. I have been travelling a wee bit though. I popped over to England for a bit to

I just had to jot down this random experience before it disappered into wherever forgotten thing disappear to. As I was driving home this afternoon I decided to try out the alternative entry point to my road (the road is going to get dug up and things put in the ground...don't ask me for details, coz I'll have to make them up). As I slowly drove down the gravel (note: temporary road), I spotted a long roll of black carpet rolled up. I wondered why it was there at the bottom of the gravel, but assumed that if it was left there, it should be possible to quite easily drive over it. I was wrong. What happened was that I managed to drive over it with the front wheels of the car, but then the back wheels kind of got stuck on it, and instead of gently driving over the carpet, they dragged it along, and unrolled part of it. This continued until one side of it got stuck at the side of the road. This was all downhill. I tried to reverse, and had a few looks to find creative ways of solv

The sky is grey, and even if it is possible to sit outside and have a cup of tea (I just had a cup of tea outside), I wouldn’t claim that we have tropical heat (not today anyway). Time passes, slowly and quickly, and I kind of feel like I’m just going with the flow really. Life goes up and down. I miss Fortaleza, and get very excited when I receive email updates from those I left behind. Sometimes I get a bit muddled up because the whole thing of me coming home just doesn’t seem to make sense. I think of Maria who is one of the street girls, now street woman, that I worked with for so long. If someone had time to just totally invest in her life and really show her Jesus, she might get out of the deep, deep, rut she’s in…and Rachel, oh Rachel, who’s had so many ups and downs. She was down last time I saw her, just before leaving. One of my friends in Fortaleza wrote to me last week with good news saying that she’s going with another project to Rio de Janeiro to represent those who live

Yes, you can get a hold of mangos in Norway too, although they cannot be compared to the freshly picked, sweet mangos of Fortaleza. Still, being able to sit out on the veranda in the blazing sunshine eating a mango is a bit of a novelty! The gorgeous weather we’ve been blessed with this week has made me remember Fortaleza many times. I was definitely created for warmer climates. Yesterday we spent the day at our cottage on the beach (yes, it’s not by the beach, but on the beach. Built on rock though, as we all know what happens to a house built on sand when the storms come.) It was great to just relax in the sunshine, work on my tan, and read a book (I read ”The Mermaid Chair” by Sue Monk Kid). Even with the 25-26 degrees (it must have been that or more!!), I didn’t venture into the sea; 16 degrees Celsius is still cold, no matter how hard you try to convince me of how refreshing it is! There was also a kite-festival on the beach. Not kite-surfing (although I spotted one of those the o

17th of May. The day the whole of Norway go into the streets to celebrate. Norway's birthday. The day we got our constitution. The 17th of May really is a very special day for Norway. I guess you could say it's Norway's version of the Brazilian carnival, only different. In Brazil the big question every year during the carnival is how many people got killed, and if the numbers are higher or lower than last year (the image transmitted by the media to the world only shows part of what carnival is all about). Thinking about it, it is also similar to the Brazilian 7th of September, but different. It is hard to explain what this day is like. It’s one of those “have to be there” days. And since I hadn’t been in Norway for it since 2000, it was good to be reminded. At 9 am I got into the car and set off to pick up my brother, who had very kindly agreed to come with me to watch the first parade. As I drove along I saw flags (the Norwegian one, in case you wondered), swaying towards

Tomorrow is the 17th of May. But for any Norwegian, this particular date isn't like any other date in the year, it's the 4th of July of Norway. And this year I am actually here. However, some preparations had to be done to get ready for tomorrow. One was getting my national costume down from the loft. I got it a few days ago and tried it on. It's a wee bit tight, but I think it'll be fine. This evening I ironed (or rather started ironing) the blouse which is hand embroydered and made of linnen (so those of you who have a clue about fabrics, know that linnen is the opposite of no-crease material). And the second part of the preparation was polishing the silver. I tried the "foil-in-hot-water-with-salt" method, but I don't think it worked too well. I did a bit of polishing with toothpaste after that and it looks alright. At the end of the day I'm the only one who will notice the level of polishedness of my silver. I have also got my camera on charging re

A week after stepping onto Norwegian soil, I got on the plane (yes, I know, not very ”global warming friendly”) heading north to YWAM Grimerud, the main YWAM base here in Norway, and the base I’m sent out from as a missionary. I had some wonderful days there participating in a national prayer conference. The conference was great and with nicely spaced out activities, so I finally managed to slow down the pace of life. It was lovely. I was also really amazed and blessed and overwhelmed by the kindness and love I felt from the people at the base. They have faithfully been standing with me in prayer, but I was really touched by so many of them welcoming me home and asking how I was doing. The time there made me feel so much more positive and excited about what lies ahead also. It seems like nothing is impossible for God, and I felt so safe in the trust that He has good things for me. After a few days there I flew (I am a big climate polluter) back home. Since then my life has been quite

Driving here in the small town of Sandnes is drastically different from driving in the big-city Fortaleza. There is no action! Actually there is hardly any traffic. I haven't heard anyone use their horn yet, and when the speed limit is 30 kilometers per hour, then people drive 30 kilometers per hour. Not being a very agressive driver myself, I have become influenced by the mad driving in Brazil. It's irritating when the traffic moves slowly. And there is no excitement when people actually use their signal to tell you which way they're turning, and obey the law. The lack of donkeys, horses, cows, recycling carts, and just people in general, stepping into the road at all times means that driving around actually becomes quite a dull exercise. I am also having to concentrate as I approach pedestrian crossings. We're acutally supposed to stop for pedestrians here (shocking, I know), and so I find myself saying "look out for pedestrians, remember to stop at the crossing&

Finally landed. After a looong journey (including a 2 hour queue to get through security and passport control at São Paulo airport due to a strike) I arrived home on Thursday to snow. Not a white-coated scenery, but big flakes of snow falling from the sky. Obviously I was a wee bit cold in my vest-top and cardigan. It was strange to get home, but lovely to see family again, including my sister-in-law's bump which is soon to be a niece or nephew. Saying goodbye at Fortaleza airport was tearfilled, and to my great amazement I had a whole delegation seeing me off. Boys and staff from the farm and city centre, as well as other friends were there bright and early to see me off, and allow me to give them one last hug. It was very sad, and felt very final. Then I arrived home. On Friday I flew up to Bergen for a lovely celebration of my cousin's 30th Birthday. Then I flew back home on Saturday, and had a 2.5 hour delay of my flight coming back. Quite ironic, after a 28 hour journey wi

The last day here is almost over. It’s been a surreal day. As heavy rain put a stop to my plan of one last top-up of my tan, I did the obligatory manicure/pedicure and eyebrows at the beauty-salon. I repacked my bag a few times, and now I’m doing some final bits on the computer before that too will be switched off and packed safely into a bag. This evening I went to my favourite (well, since it’s basically the only one in town, there’s not much choice) cafe with some friends which was very nice, and it took my mind off leaving…at least a bit. At 5:30 am tomorrow morning we set off for the airport, where I am sure many tears will be shed as I say a final goodbye. Please pray for my journey and my arrival back home. As excited as I am to see friends and family again that side of the globe, my mind at the moment is focused on those I’ll leave behind here.

It was with real sadness I went to my last Body Combat class here in Fortaleza. As I was boxing and kicking away to special sound effects and well-timed choreography, tears came to my eyes several times as I realized that this is the end of another thing. After the class I got sweaty hugs from the instructor and a few people I’ve gotten to know over the course of the many years I’ve been going there. I was surprised at how heavy I felt at leaving, I guess I am only now realizing how much of a life-line being able to go to my Body Combat classes at the gym regularly has been. I remember at times being so angry at life, situations, people; and thanking God for giving me a place where I could have an outlet for that anger. And I remember other times when I’d be so frustrated, and feel so lost and without routine, I’d thank God for giving me at least one activity which was regular in my week. And I'd thank God for times when I just wanted to be, and not have to be responsible for anyon

I think ”overwhelmed” sums up what I’ve felt like the last few days. Completely overwhelmed. Both emotionally and by things. The past days have been full of (both time-wise and literally) organising, sorting, throwing away, and ploughing through 6 years of stuff accumulated. To some I might be described as a horder, but I like to think of it as good stewardship. I am sure my fellow ”it-might-come-in-useful-some-day-in-the-future-so-I-better-keep-it” will agree. ”Waste not, want not”, isn’t that how the saying goes. I sorted through little pieces of coloured paper…useful to make a mosaic; used jiffy-bags…useful for sending parcels, if you’re not in Brazil (here you need to use the official cardboard box)…half-empty shampoo bottles, if I suddenly found myself in desperate need of shampoo….old Norwegian cross-word magazines, in case I suddenly remembered some intricate word I hadn’t managed to fill in. In short: STUFF. It was quite emotional, not just because of the stuff, but because of