On a journey...

As we started to sing the Norwegian Christmas song “Mitt hjerte alltid vanker i Jesu føderom” (translation: My heart it always wanders in Jesus’ birthplace”), they took the initiative to stand up and take each others hands. It’s was a powerful moment, and I think that at that point there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Singing of finding home and the blessed Christmas night , a place of such hope and peace and freedom, moved us all. It caught me off guard and I hadn’t expected such vulnerability from these women. Many of them live with a wall built around their hearts as protection from a life which they have experienced as far from safe and kind. Now they find themselves literally behind bars, and yet behind the tough exteriors, are hearts that are still capable of being moved. Moved by being literally overwhelmed by presents and love and the message of value and hope. Moved to maybe, just maybe, believe that they are worth more than what life has communicated to them so far.

As we sat there quietly in the pews of the church, all I could hear was the occasional sniffle. Looking around me there were many faces with red rimmed eyes and tears silently trickling down their cheeks. In the front rows I could see those who were her family, their shoulders weighed down by the sadness of the occasion. The white coffin and flowers surrounding it made it clear that this was a sad sad day. A day to lay to rest a young woman who couldn’t bear to live anymore. Another reminder of the frailty of life, and that for some the pain and chaos of living is just too much. The tables were carefully placed to enable 30 people to sit down for the Christmas dinner. They were decorated with white tablecloths and small vases with red flowers in them. The whole house was filled with the smell of dinner having been lovingly prepared, and the guests were arriving. It was a beautiful evening of constant conversation, laughs, eating and games. A time of community and family, and of cr