Skip to main content

It’s been ten years...

Almost ten years ago to the day I sat in this very spot. Also on my way back from celebrating my cousins birthday in Bergen. But the difference being I’d just moved back to Norway two days earlier, and was a little more dazed.

Ten years.

I remember walking to my gate in Fortaleza. My face red and blotchy from the tears of saying goodbye, and glimpsing through a rare window into the main airport the group of friends-turned-family waving another goodbye as I walked past them. I was so sad to be moving from the place that had been home for the past 6+ years, and yet the sadness in a strange way fuelled thankfulness. Thankfulness for the time I got to live there, and proof that the relationships built went deeper than surface level.

Ten years. It still feels so recent, and yet 10 years of living away.

It feels like an appropriate moment to stop for a moment and reflect. Fortaleza, Brazil. The amazing privilege of becoming part of the lives of so many people I met on the streets, in the slums and in the youth prisons; and them filling up space in my heart as I got to know them as so much more than just their circumstances. And the last ten years hearing news that some of them are now husbands and fathers, working and having a life of future and dignity. Others, sadly, are no longer with us, most of them ending up not surviving the consequences of their choices.

Brazil marked me. It was a part of me becoming who I am today. And I am thankful that part of my heart belongs there.

Popular posts from this blog

At a crossroads yet again.

This evening feelings of weariness flood my soul. Weary of not knowing. Weary of choosing to trust. Weary of waiting. Weary of walking yet not knowing what I am walking in or towards. Weary of figuring out life on my own. This past month the reality of crossroads in life has hit me yet again. I knew it was coming, but suddenly it was there and I just had to go with it. There’s not much more I can do...except waiting and trusting and choosing. Choosing to let God be the One who guides and fights and prepares the path before me. My crossroads is “do I stay or do I go”? From Kansas City and IHOP-KC. In October I’ll have been here two years, which feels like 5 years and at the same time 6 months. In December I go home for Christmas. It’ll have been a year since last time and I’ll be seeing my niece who’ll be 3 instead of 2 years old, and my little nephew who will be 1 year already, and I’ll get to meet little Julie who is only three weeks old as I write this. She’ll be 4 months when I meet...

Preparing for tomorrow.

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...

On the move again...

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...