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Archive for August, 2012

Aug 28

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Playing it fair, or remaining a bully

Life should be a little more fair for people like her.

Having had kids for a while, I have learned some things. One of them is that you have to play fair. There are rules to all games, and if somebody breaks them, he or she cannot be trusted. And kids don’t want to play with the ones who don’t play by the rules. I think this is pretty straight forward. 

Unless you live in Burma. 

Like so many you too may think that things are moving forward at the pace of success in Burma now. The reports I have been getting the last few days are anything but good. In some ways it is worse now than ever.

Because while villages are starving in Karen State because their rice crops have failed again, nobody knows. (We have received requests to help with food/rice for 3620 starving people)

While thousands of Kachin refugees who had to flee to China due to the heavy fighting in their villages are forced back to their villages where the fighting still continues, nobody seems to take notice. Read more here. (Again, Partners staff is there doing what we can to help. We have been able to provide food and shelter among much more.)

While soldiers are shooting at civilians in Karen and Shan State, although there supposedly is a ceasefire agreement in place, the media is suspiciously quiet.(This has been communicated with us by the Free Burma Rangers, but the report is still not available online)

While young girls are forced into prostitution because their families’ land has been confiscated by big international companies governments just continue their investments to “help develop” Burma.(Again, there are no official news about this, so you just will have to trust me and our staff who have been in the areas and seen the situation for themselves. They have interviewed and documented.)

While thousands are killed and forced to flee in Arakan state, the government of Burma is sadly passive, and the world don’t seem to care about a people who has nowhere to go. Read the report that my friend, Matt, wrote here.

You think I am just making this up? I wish that was the case, but I am not. This is all happening right now, as we speak. While countries are excitedly moving into Burma to get their piece of the cake. Follow the links I have given you, and comment, share and spread the word. 

Also, pray for and give to Partners who is trying to do our best to help in this mess. 

Got to go now. I need to figure out what more I can do…

 

Aug 22

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Life is too short to not pick strawberries

The other day Steve and I went biking. It was a beautiful day, one of the few where it was warm enough to wear shorts in Norway this year. After spending the day by our desks using only our butt and finger muscles by sitting and typing, it felt good to move the whole body.

This is me biking on a different day. Not so sporty-looking, you may say, and I agree. 100%. But the surroundings are spectacular though. Or what?

I had gotten a pulse watch from Steve for my birthday so it was fun to keep track of our pace and distance ridden. I was amazed at my speed. We have nice bikes, all high-tech and light weight. Steve was in a rebellious mood and did not put on his helmet. I wore mine, because, quite frankly, the downhills scare me. The helmet on my head gave me a small sense of security. Still I used my breaks diligently as I made my way down.

We wanted a real workout. We wanted to sweat and hurt a little. We wanted to see if our time was better this time than last time. So we trotted on. There was just one problem: there were wild strawberries on the side of the road. Every few meters there were big amounts of them (not big, because wild strawberries are small, but you get my point). At first I kept looking past the strawberries and changed gears to make the impact on my body a bit more intense. This was not the time for picking strawberries. This was the time for sweating. This was the time for high pulse. This was the time for calorie-burning.

Sweet, red and tempting

But finally it got too much. I could not resist the temptation. I stopped, got off my bike and started picking strawberries. They were delicious! Sweet and tart at the same time, bright red and vulnerable. When we had picked them all, we got on our bikes and went a little further, until we saw more strawberries. Then we got off and picked more.

We finally made it home, but not in record time. And, in the end, it didn’t matter at all.

This is what I thought: How many chances like this will I get this year? A sunny day, a beautiful place and strawberries on the side of the road. Next week they may be gone. Next month fall is already here. Next year this road may be a be paved and the strawberries gone. Why not enjoy them now? Why am I in too much of a hurry to stop and pick strawberries?

To experience the joy of strawberries to the max, thread them on a straw like Kristin and her cousin did here. If you do that in a hurry, you will fail. If you take the time required you will end up with the finest jewelry.

While adding handfuls into my mouth I thought that my experience as a good illustration of real life too. Often we hurry along, trying to break our own records in efficiency and perfection. Often we get so busy that we forget to look for the strawberries in our lives. And if we see them we don’t take the time to pick them. And when we finally decide to make time for the stopping, picking and enjoying it may be too late. Winter is already there, the strawberries are gone—either picked by others or rotted.

So I committed to not pass up strawberries. Not on my bike rides, not on my walks and not in my own life.

Aug 14

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The riches of the land (and water)

Yesterday I felt like the woman described in Proverbs 31. Except I did not get up at dawn. The sun raises at 4 am, mind you.

But I got up and made wholesome pancakes, bursting with energy and health from the flax seeds, whole wheat and oats I put in them. (And, yes, they tasted good, thank you.) Then I drove to Ingebjørg, my stepmom and eased her burden by helping her pick some of the cherries from her bountiful tree. With the help from Naomi and Elise we did great. The harvest was impressive.

Back home, our Latvian friends had blessed us with a bag full of fish they had just caught. The only problem: I would have to fillet them by myself. And I was not thrilled.

But, as the Proverbs 31 woman I was, I attacked the fish with, not a plugged nose, but the sharpest knife in the house.

I managed pretty well, don’t you think?

And just as I had gotten the hang of it, my friend Helen came walking by, and she was happy when I said I would give her the rest of the fish for free if they wanted to fillet them by themselves. You see, I have a freezer full of fish already.

I finished pitting the cherries, put them and the fish in the freezer, though in separate bags. Then I had myself a glass of soda with OJ while I read a chapter from the novel I am reading, Sarum, by Edward Rutherford. Interesting reading. Especially since I will go to the UK soon.

And by the end of the day I thought: This was a really good day, and I am blessed to live from the land and the water. Not everybody is as rich as me.

The end.

Aug 11

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Rebuilding a blogger

Not really sure what went wrong there. It was like…I stopped blogging.

I had my reasons. My daughters and I got the worst possible flight to go to the US, and we travelled for three whole days and saw more airports and breathed more bad airplane air than all of you perhaps have in a lifetime. At one point where we were starting to get violent. That was in Chicago when the flight attendant informed us that she didn’t know when the pilot was going to show up because, actually, he was at that moment at a different airport. 

This family has seen more airports than the average family. This is in Australia many years ago, but it was no more fun then.

During those days I did not feel like writing a blog.

Then we zigzagged around America, spreading the good news about Partners, and when not doing that we did stuff like hiking, canoeing, shopping and drinking beer from local breweries.

No blogging opportunities at the Boundary Waters. We were just busy following the tracks of the Indians and the beavers.

Somehow, every time I wanted to write a blog, we were either on a lake, or at our campsite without my computer, and with no internet. Or my computer was out of battery and one of the girls had all the chargers. (No matter how many chargers we have, there is never one for me, and the girls always manage to get one. Of course, they have first priority, considering how much catching up they have to do on Facebook.)

At the few moments when I was at a place with my computer, with Internet and with a charger, I just did not feel like writing. I just thought that if I had to write anything right then I would start to feel sick. So rather than getting sick from blogging, I simply kept reading my book or I did another workout. Some times I even checked Facebook instead. But that was VERY rare.

On nights like this, I wrote blogs to God in my heart.

All this is to say that I am sorry that so many of you, faithful followers, have not heard from me for a very long time. I feel like I have let you down. But I am also glad to report that I am back to stay. Just look at this spot from time to time, and you will find that I have been here. 

For now, this is all I have to say.

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