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Archive for October, 2010

Oct 29

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T.G.I. Friday

Fridays are nice days. Friday nights I am usually full of Christmas-like expectancies. There are so many good things to look forward to: The ice-cold Guinness that I have been looking forward to popping open and pouring into a tall glass all week. Black like molasses. Frothy like a polluted river.

Then there is my favorite program on TV. The only program on TV that I watch, actually. It is called “The news once more.” Well, in Norwegian is sounds so much better: “Nytt på nytt.” For thirty minutes five more or less famous people sit in a studio and share the news of the past week the way they see it, in a very humorous way. I laugh a lot and wish I could be so cunning with my one-liners. And I try to remember some of the things they say, so that I can use it—on my blog for example.

Here is one of the long-term "Nytt på nytters." He produces funny statements and observations like other people produce buggers. I don't know how he does it.

This is the leader for Nytt på nytt, Jon Almaas. He is very witty and incredibly good-looking. One of Norway's finest men, in my opinion.

It is also the thought that tomorrow morning I can sleep until I want to get up, which most likely will be seven. That is a whole hour extra and I can’t wait to go to bed tonight thinking about that. No alarm clock for two wondrous mornings.

I am anxious in a good and nervous way about all the cleaning I have to do tomorrow. All week I have been thinking about when to mop the floor, and I have either not been able to justify the time it would take (I do have a job, after all), or I have not been able to get the dog to stay outside long enough and he thinks the mop is an animal he must kill, or I have been too tired at night after the kids went to bed. Tomorrow is the day: My house will get cleaned.

I am thinking about how I will be feeling at this time tomorrow night. Going to bed in a clean house. I may be better than going to bed after Guinness.

Lastly, I am going to go for a long run somewhere tomorrow. A bit longer than normal. That will be my treat after all that cleaning. Thinking about that makes Friday night a good night as well.

Some Saturdays I bake something good to eat with coffee. The thought of that also makes Friday nights great.

No wonder I am excited about Friday nights. They are the reward of a week well spent. And to think that every week has a Friday night makes me thankful in a childish way.

I also think that tomorrow night I will write a meaningful blog. Something that will shock and challenge. Something that may change the lives of some people. I may write an idea that will make people see the world, their faith, their lives in a completely different light. I can’t wait to write that blog entry tomorrow.

Oct 28

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Putting logs on the fire

Some days people are too busy to write blogs. The last few days I have had other things on my mind:

  • Carrying wood inside for the fire.
  • Making the fire.
  • Making the fire again when the first fire died.
  • Taking the dog outside to pee.
  • Making sure the fire is burning.
  • Praying.
  • Getting kids out of bed although it is as dark as the night and as cold as sushi.
  • Telling the kids to get dressed. Telling the kids to eat. Telling the kids to make lunch. Telling the kids to hurry up. Telling the kids to open the bathroom door. Telling the kids to hurry. Telling the kids to eat. Telling the kids to pack their bags. Telling the kids to get dressed. Telling the kids to speak nicely. Telling the kids they are going to be late. Running up and down the stairs to get the things the kids forgot.
  • Watching the kids walk off to school. Across the field, together with a trail of other kids who are equally groggy, equally late, equally looking like the dwarfs in Snow White.
  • Checking the fire.
  • Cleaning the impressive mess in the kitchen.
  • Wondering why all my clothes are so boring.
  • Putting on some of my boring clothes.
  • Some say that now the day begins.

This is posed. They are rarely this together in the mornings.

I would say it differently some days. I would say: This is only the beginning. Then off I go to all my thousands of activities.

Email and laundry. It may be what does me in one of these days.

Today was a little different. First we went for dinner at our neighbor’s house at 4. (That is when we eat dinner in Norway. Why is that so strange?) We ate and chatted around their big dining table. Then we moved over to the coach and had coffee and a piece of cake while we kept on talking. At long last we got up, put our coats on and walked home in the dark. The air smelled of late fall, wood fires and the winter that is to come.

The smell of fall. Promises of winter. And summer.

Then I moved on to a Bible study group in the evening where we did more talking and eating. And I thought about how nice it is to belong in a fellowship and how important it is. I thought that people are generally so different from me. (Good thing for them. Good for the world. One of me is enough) That is a good thing because I am learning that although they are different in background, tastes and stature, all people generally want to belong, want to share their hearts and want to do something good for others. And that is something I have in common with them. If that is all we have in common, then that is OK too because those are the most important qualities. (Some other qualities are good too: Courage and the ability to do accounting are two.)

Now I am home and my house is a mess and I am behind with many tasks. But, I have already carried the wood inside and it’s looking good for tomorrow.

Oct 25

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Pig’s heads and balsamic vinegar

At the moment live in a small community here in Norway. To say that it is remote is an understatement. The road ends here. If you have come this far, you have come far. Here people have lived for generations, growing their potatoes, herding their cows and hunting for moose. They have watched the seasons change and the weather take it’s toll. Big events are events such as birthdays and 4H graduations. They cut wood for the fires that will get them through the winter. I think it sounds so romantic and simple. It feels safe and wholesome. People who make a living growing cucumbers must have good values. There is therapy in looking over potato fields ready for harvest, not to mention wheat and barley. Where I go running there are cabbage fields and carrots. My community is like a big vegetable soup.

This is how pretty it is. No need for balsamic vinegar.

 

Some days though, I feel a little claustrophobic. Like today.

All the people at the office where Partners rents a room had lunch together. And when we have lunch, the conversation will take us far. We explore new ideas. And usually the new ideas come with me. Like the day Steve and I brought an avocado. The poor avocado got passed around and smelled and touched by all. Some said they had seen one before, but none had never tasted one. Today I brought salad dressing consisting of balsamic vinegar and olive oil. A radical thing to eat for a people group who mostly stick to Thousand Island. We passed the dressing around and everybody tasted a little. It was not too spicy, was the verdict. Several said they would consider eating it again.

Somehow, from the dressing the conversation turned to pork. And this is an area where there is a lot to say. Ribs is a great topic. We talk about ribs a lot. Some get sick when they eat them, but they eat it anyway because it is yummy. But from the ribs it went to the pig’s head. And now there was talk about how you get the meat out from the head. And that with some patience, as long as you dig through the veins, the webs and the mess in the head, you will actually end up with well over a plate full of the best meat you can imagine. Many came with input on this, and by the end of lunch my balsamic vinegar was forgotten and all we were left with was the idea of a desecrated pig’s head.

Apparently the best meat is here

I like this place and it’s people. I like the beauty and the fresh smell of cow dung. I like that the kids can go camping alone in the forest and that I can go running after dark. I like that people know my name at the grocery store, and that I can get vegetables straight from the farmer. But I wish that I would not have to be the one who introduced balsamic vinegar and other radical ideas. Imagine what it will be like the day I bring sushi.

Oct 24

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A voice from the past

Today my good friend John called me. We had not talked for 15 years and that is too long. The talk took me right back to my years in Japan more than 20 years ago and I have stayed there all afternoon. John’s thing is church planting and leadership, and in those areas he has been very successful. The church we started in Japan all those years ago was a little bit like a miracle because you don’t start successful churches in Japan. Well, Japan did not know John, and they did not know what God can do through people like him and his disciples, one of them me—20 years old and very enthusiastic.

Main-stream or traditional was not how people described us. Naive, unskilled, culturally insensitive, immature, financially unstable, theologically unfit were adjectives more commonly used. It turned out that it was exactly what God needed to get his work done: The most unlikely missionaries to succeed in the history of missions in Japan. That was my team. And John was the leader. And I was committed to the cause. We succeeded.

But, actually, John has made a lasting imprint onto my life in other ways than church planting. He got me into running. Monday mornings at around ten, or week nights sometimes late, John would put on his sweats and a t-shirt and pretty much make it mandatory for me to put on my Nikes that were a hundred years old and my bohemian running outfit. Then we were off in the neighborhoods of Ichikawa. Some days in the sweltering tropical heat, other times in the cold rain and wind of the winter. And just like Forrest Gump, I just kept running for all those years after that.

Not exactly 20 years ago, but almost. Running for refugees in Burma. So much better than running for just myself.

I completely forgot to ask John if he still runs. I will have to ask him next time we talk, hopefully before 15 more years have passed.

John is the pastor of a cool-looking church in Stockholm called New Life church. You can read about them here.

John van Dinther, pastor of New Life Church and my running mentor and fellow church planter

I wish I had pictures to display of the Ichikawa church planters and runners. I will look for them when I move back to Thailand where my earthly possessions are stored.

As I am contemplating this, a thought enters my sleepy mind: All my main accomplishments appear to have been successful to certain degrees  in spite of me. What I mean is that a lot of the things I have succeeded at were bound to fail—often because of me and the people I surrounded myself with, but succeeded. I must be a living proof that God works miracles. And I don’t say this flippantly. I say it with awe.

Oct 21

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The queen of Burma

“These days all I want to do is to collect money for the poor,” said Lasse in fourth grade today. He gave me a content sigh. Ah,the joy of making a difference in the world when one is nine. So innocent and sincere. One day he will grow up and see that the world is more complicated than he thought, that it is run by policy and laws, greed and strategies, corruption and lies. For now though, he has simple solutions. Some friends can make toys, some can knit scarfs, some can sell stuff. All to help the children of Burma.

I spent the day at an elementary school here in Norway, speaking about Burma and Partners for six hours straight. Keeping the attention of first to sixth graders is a challenge of dimensions. It’s a thankful job though. If the world was run by this age groups we could go somewhere.

Potential world leaders

“I just don’t know why we can’s just shoot the general in the back so that he too can feel what it feels like to get killed,” suggested Vegar. “Well, could NATO just attack them?” was another question raised. Then: “What kind of weapon do you carry?” That my weapon is a simple Swiss Army knife did not excite.

Then we talked about landmines and what a mine sweeper is. The Encyclopedia of fifth grade stood up on his chair and declared: “A landmine is usually a victim-triggered explosive device which is intended to damage its target via blast and/or fragments.” Good to know. We shuddered at the thought of people being forced to be mine sweepers. Although a sixth grader informed me: “Some people actually want to die. They could be the mine sweepers.” I said that although some people want to die, they may not necessarily want to die by a land mine.

In second grade they were more concerned with the basics: “How do they wipe when they go to the toilets?”

In first grade they needed things to be simple. We talked about the mean guys and the nice guys. Then we had a good laugh at how much work it is to take a bath wearing a sarong.

One of the boys, Tobias, in fifth grade had celebrated his birthday last year and instead of gifts he had asked his friends to bring money that he could give to Partners. I had written him a letter to say thank you for such a generous gesture. Today he came up to me holding the letter in his hand. It was folded and worn. “Do you remember sending me this?” he asked. Of course I did. I remember writing him and telling him that he was a role model, and that he should aspire to stay a role model in his class, at his school, in his country.

It the end of the day one of the boys in first grade came up to me. He was one of the gentle ones that did not speak much during class, but who was as attentive as a hunting dog. He wanted to tell me something important: “I think you should become the queen of Burma,” he said.

I drove home feeling tired and fulfilled. Kids are something else. We think that we grow into maturity and wisdom. In a way that is true. But as we are maturing we are losing some of that enthusiasm and zeal that I saw in a few hundred kids today. Those kids really think that they can change the world. How many of us do?

Oct 20

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Transparent like dirty water

I like transparent people the most. The ones who don’t cover up their imperfections with perfect masks. I have some friends that willingly admit their shortcomings, fears and insecurities, who are willing to get advice from others and who are very quick to say sorry when they realize they have stepped wrong. Actually, the first person (other than Steve. He is always so transparent that I have to tell him it is OK if he doesn’t tell the whole world every time he picks his nose) I thought of right now was our Partners team leader in Thailand, Brad. I think his humility is part of what makes him such a good leader. He is more gifted and capable than most people in the world, and yet, he constantly asks for help, guidance and forgiveness. If a person like him needs that, how much more do I? (Don’t even ask, please.)

I am working on becoming a person who gladly lets the world know my shortcomings. I try to tell myself that imperfection is OK as long as I am willing to learn, to change, to admit wrongs. Imperfection is OK as long as I still seek to do what is right for others. It’s OK to ask for help. To ask for help is the hardest. By doing that I am revealing my incompetence and letting another person be above me in whatever skill I need help with. That would be OK if it was a skill I never claimed I had, but, oh, so hard when it comes to the areas where I thought I had it figured out, like raising kids and husbands—or how to do Photoshop, for that matter.

On the news yesterday they talked about how the military junta in Burma will not allow any foreign observers to come to the country to observe their so-called democratic elections. None. Period. It’s obvious why. If they had nothing to hide there would be no problem at all to allow people to come and watch how they are doing this d-e-m-o-c-r-a-c-y. But they have a lot to hide. A lot to be ashamed of. A lot that they should be very worried about the world finding out. Better to keep the world out.

I like transparent governments the best too. The Burma government is certainly not one of those. The elections are going to take place in less than a month. I wonder if one of the reasons they won’t allow any foreign observers to watch is that they have followed the tradition they started when they had the Constitution approved: They filled in the ballots for the voters, they held a gun to their head and told the voters how to vote, they threatened the voters with kidnapping of family members, loss of jobs and other uncomfortable prospects if they did not vote right. That and the fact that they still, as of last week shoot on kids. (you can read the latest report from FBR on that—http://www.freeburmarangers.org/Reports/2010/20101014.html)

It would be so much better if they at least could say: Help! We don’t know how to run this country. Can somebody come and help us figure out how to keep a human right for example. So much better.

Sadly, I doubt it will happen any time soon. Pride. That is the opposite of transparency in my book.

Transparent leader

Not transparent leader

Oct 18

6 Comments

I am what I choose

I want to choose community before tasks. So hard, but so right

I have said this before, but since it is so true, it is OK to repeat it: The freedom of choice is often a burden. Because when we get to choose, we also run the risk of choosing wrong. And since we have made the choice, then the responsibility is ours too. I like it when things go wrong and I can blame others. Don’t you? I can blame left and right, blame my husband, my kids, my country, my neighbors, my dog…

Today I feel like I have been reminded of this from a lot of angels. First I had my quiet time and the book I am reading talked about our desires. And that, really, if we get rid of all the fluff, then our desires and God’s are the same, because it is God who has put the desires in our hearts to begin with. Yeah, I know this one is hard to swallow, but just think about it for a moment. And remember to get rid of the fluff. This lady in the book also talked about making choices and that nobody ever does anything one has not chosen to do. She said that sometimes the choice may be between the lesser of two evils, but it is true even in a situation where there appears to be no choice. That stings too. Like, it’s my own fault that I get fat when I drink too much beer? Or more seriously: Maybe I am lonely because of my own choices, or broke, or whatever.

So, in a way, I can say that I am what I have chosen to become. My life is a string of decisions.

Then my friend Ingun called to check on me (which she does from time to time because she is such a good person) and we talked about the future. And we both agreed that there are times when it would be easier to be told what to do than to actually be given the freedom to choose. (We of course probably don’t mean that, we just said it. Because the second our freedom to choose was taken away, we would hate life. It would be like being forced to peel potatoes outside with only cold water and it was rainy and windy and cold like it is now.)

A little later I got an email from another good friend, Lynn (she is so great that I think she has been mentioned on this blog three times. That is a great person) who said this: Someone asked me about the wrong decisions I had made in life and I answered that because I truly like who I am and where I am in life, can there really be wrong decisions as life is what shapes us to be the people we are. Without all the choices I made…..right or wrong….I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am

And I thought: How true that is, and how freeing. If we truly seek to do right and follow our hearts and try to do unto others what we would want them to do to us, then, really, it is hard to go totally wrong. And even if we do go totally wrong and end up flat on our noses with scratches here and there, that is OK too. Because, like Lynn said, that is what is going to turn us into the people we are meant to be.

I made some right choices today. I chose to let the house stay a little messy and spent time with the girls instead. I chose to go for a run although it was dark and cold. I chose to chat with Elise instead of thinking of a budget (Wow, hard choice!). I also chose to eat a cinnamon roll tonight when I really should have eaten an apple. Now I am choosing to end this long blog entry.

Oct 17

6 Comments

Remembering Marv

Tonight my friend and one of our family’s greatest heroes died. He had cancer and although his death was not unexpected, it is sad. It is sad to think that he is gone and that in this life we will never see him again. For me though, it is comforting to know that he is in a better place. Kristin sat down and wrote a reflection that moved me to tears this afternoon: “Marv is kind of my Grandpa and I really love him. He is the best Grandpa I ever had. I hope he is having a good time in heaven with God, and he has probably met Kit (our dog that died a year ago) and having fun with all his pig friends (Marv was fond of pigs, and raised many at our Partners farm). Marv means a lot to me. I love you Marv and I will meet you when I die. The Gumaers will meet you. Love Kristin.”

Marv meant a lot to me too. He taught me mostly about believing in people, about listening and caring. He taught me to not care so much about other people’s opinions, but to do what is right, even if it means to clean toilets. (You may know that his is a lesson I am still learning, but Marv has shown me how it is done by his example.)He made me laugh and said things that I never would have had the guts to say. I have written more about him in my new book (that is not published yet). Tonight I will just pray for Dorothy who lost her best friend and husband of 42 years.

 

Our family with Marv and Dorothy at Christmas two years ago

 

Oct 17

7 Comments

About Saturday beers and getting dirty

This is how I would have liked to spend the day

Last night when I posted my blog I felt like it was the worst piece of writing and I actually thought I ought to remove it this morning. I am such a cry-baby, I thought. And people will be horrified when they see how self-centered I am and that I have all these issues that are so…inane. I also felt like I had not expressed myself very well, I could have at least written some more deep devotional stuff. But it was midnight, I had had a Guinness and a half a bag of chips, watched a stupid talk show and tried to deal with this guy who wants to go to Burma on the phone. It was not my moment of creative genius.

But then all these people read my blog and liked it and commented on it left and right. They also had had those kinds of feelings. My silly smallishness encouraged a lot of people who also felt bad about their silly smallishness.

Tonight I am drinking a Guinness again. It is not a bad habit, if that is what you think. It is my weekend splurge and I am enjoying it the way many may enjoy their steak, their donuts, their chocolate eclairs. It is my little award for getting through the day and not cussing.

The weather is the way weather is in Norway a lot: Cold, windy, rainy. My kids were supposed to help do the weekend cleaning, but they spent most the day sorting their clothes and organizing their closets. It was needed, but that did not make the bathrooms shine. Our dog got diarrhea and he is very hairy, so you can imagine what diarrhea does to his hairy behind (if you have the stomach for that kind of imagination.) His pooping issues have caused me more stress than anything today. More than the fact that there is flooding in Burma, and that the world’s resources are running out.

Marley had to spend the day on his leash outside and he was very unhappy and tried to make us like him more by jumping up on us and pulling our clothes whenever we went outside. It made us like him less.

The only way to get him clean was…get this…to put him in the shower. And get a little dirty in the process. Not a nice job.

But now he is clean and loves me more than ever. He is sleeping by my feet and I get the feeling he is willing to die for me, if need be.

There is got to be a lesson here somewhere. About stepping in the shower with the ones that are not that appealing to begin with, to get dirty with them, and then see their beauty when they are clean, like a fluffy puppy.

I will get back to this analogy later. It is midnight again and my brain is shutting down.

Oct 16

2 Comments

When people step on toes

Motives are hard to judge sometimes. I often wonder about mine. I think I am more concerned about my own glory than the cause I am working for. I remind myself of my kids who make such a big deal of getting the credit for whatever little they may have done to keep the house respectable.

Today I was a little annoyed that some organizations in this country had actually left us out in their pursuit of freedom for Burma.(You see, I feel entitled to this job myself.) And not only that, they had made their opinions public and used photos that my husband had taken. And did they credit him? No. And not only that, they made suggestions to the government that Partners had made an eternity ago. But was that even an issue? No.

So I was sulking by my desk feeling robbed for some fame mostly, and influence in the inner circles. I doubt that if our name (Partners) had been mentioned more and my husband’s name had been on the photo freedom would have come to Burma any sooner. I was more concerned about being left out than I was about the actual cause. I even wrote a couple of emails to set things straight.

My friend, Linda, gently reminded me that my job is not to go out looking for fame and credit and headlines in the news. My job is to do what I am supposed to do and to let God deal with the rest. Let him deal with the people who make mistakes. Let him deal with the people who perhaps act immature. Let him deal with the rest of the stuff. I

I thought that was true and felt convicted. I let my heart settle with the verse that Linda reminded me of Romans 8:28 “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him,who have been called according to his purpose.”

I so easily judge others and their motives, and then I find myself committing the exact same mistake myself, and feel justified in doing so. Perhaps I should give little more grace to others when they make the same mistakes I do, because I know that I will do the same mistakes myself. If you know what I mean.

Tomorrow will start with new opportunities to do what is right. And that will be my goal. Do what is right. Even if it means nobody will notice and nobody will even care. But it is about being faithful. Faithful.

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