On a journey...

I am sitting at the airport in Dusseldorf eating a very expensive (I think) Cesar Salad with Chicken and writing my blog while surrounded by the murmur of mostly German voices and some funky music playing. It’s a nice place to hang out while I wait for my flight back to Norway and normality. Although again I wonder what “normality” really means, what it even looks like for me in my life.     It’s been a lovely 4 days in Cologne. A few weeks ago I was again invited to come down and teach on the DTS about justice, and it all worked out with work schedules and time available. It’s been such a blessing to pour out of my knowledge and experience into lives of those who are just starting their journeys in missions and ministry. A joy to get to remember again so many of the stories and lives that have become part of my life over the years. And such a privilege to be able to continue to minister even though I have stepped out of full-time ministry.     It was also a...

Living is a process of building. Building life. Building relationships. Building a routine and a day-to-day. I have been reflecting recently on the process of building in this season of my life. As different bricks in life are coming into place, it’s almost like an invitation to be faithful in how I build them into my life and steward them. I can either hold them loosely or choose to fix them into this life I am building. I recently added an extra job into the mix. A job where I work with people. People who function differently and yet still have complete value in the eyes of God. People who I find it a challenge to connect with, and yet realize are very much connected into the heart of God. Again it’s an invitation to embrace the opportunity to get revelation of what God’s heart looks like for these ones. As I work with them I want to see them not just as another job I am doing, but as a job I can do with purpose and the right perspective. Perspective. Life is lived through ...

Time is so precious. There never seems to be enough, and once you use it you can never have it back. Yet again I find myself sat at the busy airport of Schiphol with such gratitude in my heart. And as always, airports are a great place to blog in want of something more exciting to do. My (apparently) beauty enhancing juice has taken the place of my customary latte or cup of Earl, and although I am not quite sure how much of an impact a cup of juice can have on my beauty, I am sure my body is thankful to not be exposed to even more caffeine... at least for now. Copenhagen airport has good coffee. The past days have contained such times of quality time. Time to sit down with just a few of those I love who live in Amsterdam. Time to share hearts. Time to receive and give. There is something about meeting in person which no amount of email or Skype can measure up to. Some of that time was listening both to what they were sharing but also between the lines and to God. Other times i...

It’s Sunday evening and I am sat in the living room yet again. It’s night and the time is beautifully illuminated on the clock of the Oude Kerk . Outside the streets are full of people despite the fact that it is Sunday and evening. The Red Light District never sleeps. The sound of the streets at night travels through the closed windows, and the occasional shout from someone who has probably had a few drinks too much breaks through the murmur of people walking by. I am almost tempted to put on my jacket and go out for a stroll... but think I’ll opt for reflecting on the past couple of days. I am struck at how much more hopeful the lens through which I see the city is having been away. It’s almost like when you live somewhere and are in the reality of that place day in and day out, it’s so easy to start to see through the lens of what is around you. I find having been away I can see so much more hope and so much more changing and being done in lives and in the city. It’s so encou...

I can feel the very slight chill in the air coming in from the open veranda door here in my old apartment in the centre of Amsterdam. Outside I can spot the trees starting to turn yellow, and the grand oude kerk church building is stood strong as it has for hundreds of years. There is the familiar bustle of people talking, bike bells ringing, and the occasional motorbike whizzing by. It makes me smile. I am back for a long weekend in Amsterdam. My first time visiting rather than living here, and it’s wonderful to have a little break in the settling into life in Norway. I’ve been looking forward to this trip for a while. Mostly seeing familiar faces and having time with dear friends. I love this city, but I have come to realise it’s mostly about the people; they are the ones I come to visit and then the stunning buildings and quaint cafes are a bonus. Yesterday I went along for the Friday outreach. Oh, how my heart was filled up again with love and passion. Seeing a dear fr...

Perspective. Good to have sometimes, especially when life is hard work. Not because my life is horrible in any definition of the word, but just because I still feel like I am walking on that bridge between two places and seasons, and am not settled into this new yet. Perspective. As I was walking this morning I passed a green house situated on the corner of two intersecting roads. It caught my attention because it looked a little bit like how I feel at the moment. One side was nicely painted (probably a recent paint job) while the other side was flaking off and looked worn. It was an interesting sight. And it made me stop and ponder. I realised that in some ways I have it all together; I have the basics to live and seem capable of facing life head-on. Yet in other ways I feel so flaky and uncertain. Unsure of how to do life in Norway. Unsure of how things function and how I am meant to be now I’m back in my own culture which has become so foreign, yet at the same time is so fami...

The sky was clear and there was no rain in sight. Confirmation that today was the day to mow the lawn, which had had ample opportunity to grow having been well-watered by rainy days. I put on my trainers and went into the garage telling myself:   “You can do this, it’s not that hard.” I dug out the lawnmower and tried to figure out how it worked. I got a little way there, but after figuring out how to start it (I hadn’t actually started it yet) I realised I had no idea how to turn it off. Now I realise it is very simple to stop it, you simply stop holding in the handle that keeps it on, but I didn’t know that then. Suddenly the simple, normal task of lawn-mowing grew into a bit of a mountain, and I decided it would have to be put on hold until I could make sure it would be a safe endeavor. Stepping back inside I quickly sent a text message to my brother requesting his assistance, and a little later he popped by and helped me do a test run on starting and stopping the mower....

Th ere seems to be an endless amount of boxes to be unpacked here in my new home. Living abroad in various locations has helped the amount of stuff being kept from reaching insurmountable amounts (due to baggage limits), yet still I find I’ve managed to accumulate just a few things from those seasons of my life as well. And now is time to really unpack and find space. I’ve found photo albums from years back   in the pre-digital days, when we’d develop the photos and have the excitement of seeing how they turned out after the obligatory couple of days of “waiting for them to be ready” at the photo shop (as in a physical shop rather than a picture editing computer programme). And as I’m finding these things I am being reminded of stories. So many stories which I’d forgotten, but that hadn’t vanished. They were safely stored away in memory ready to be unpacked by a photo or something familiar. Stories. What to do with stories? I’d love to write a book some day; a way of putti...