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