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Posts tagged ‘Norway’

Jun 18

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We are always getting to live

Many years ago I read in a book, that I can’t remember the name of, a story that I still remember. It was not a story, actually, just a comment. The author, whose name I also have forgotten, wrote about some recent solar eclipse. They are rare, the solar eclipses, and  I have never seen one. But the one this man spoke of was a big deal. And what he had observed, with the help of others, was that as the eclipse occurred, more people were sitting inside their living rooms watching it on TV, than they ones who walked outside and saw it in real life.

I am not sure why this little incident stuck with me for so long, but it did. Because it kind of illustrates how so many of us live our lives. While life is happening in our backyard, we spend our hours sitting on the couch, watching life unfold on TV. (Or on the computer.)

“We are always getting to live,” said Ralph Waldo Emerson, “but never living.” 

Mindfulness seems to be the new buzzword. And I don’t think that is a bad thing. If only we could learn it, and not just talk about it. If only we could learn to be present in our own lives, rather than either living other people’s lives through the media that is always surrounding us, with reality shows in every category (did you know there is a show called the Bear Whisperer?). If only we could learn to be present in our lives, rather than always living as if what really counts is what is going to happen in the future.

As I am rushing through my days, trying to keep up with all the items on my calendar, I try to take conscious breaks where I stop, take a deep breath and ask myself if I am really living. It is easy to forget in a busy day, but I do remember—sometimes.

flowers 2

These wild flowers that Kristin picked for me yesterday are on my table as a reminder to enjoy the here and now.

Last spring I was too busy to stop and pick the wild Lilies of the Valley that are in our neighborhood. They are some of my favorite flowers. Every time I passed them, I would think: I ought to pick some. I ought to stop and smell them. I ought to stop and admire their tender white bells, a sign of perfection. But I never did. This year, I stopped and picked a bouquet twice. I was proud of myself, and the time I took to appreciate the beauty in Creation, and the small joys in our lives. The joys that make life worth living. If you think of it.

Flowers

These weeds grow in the un-landscaped part of our yard. Ever thought about how beautiful “weeds” can be in the right setting? In our lives this is the case too.

How many times don’t we miss out on valuable relationships, experiences, memories, and lessons that God is wanting to teach us just because we are too busy living somebody else’s lives, or too busy trying to get to our next appointment. Today is the day the Lord has made. Let us Pick Flowers on Dusty Roads!

 

May 23

Gardening for world peace

It is springtime in Norway. Finally! On the fields all around the tractors are driving so fast across the brown dirt that I am sure the seeds understand they need to hurry up and grow. The summer is short. There is no time to waste.

Every day I notice a small change outside. Another wild flower has braved the open air, some more leaves have come out—another shade of green has been discovered. After a long winter, it is like we—the Norwegians are coming back to life. People are out walking, bicycling, gardening, and running. Some just sit on their verandas with their eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun. We, in Norway, rarely think the sun is too warm. And some of us even think that if we utter the words (the sun is too warm) it may cause it to disappear from the sky. (OK, not really true, but almost.)

I have been carried away with gardening too. The nice weather, the light and the birds singing all around inspired me.

My backyard was pretty much made by God (and some farmers) so I don’t need to do much there.

my backyard

But in the front of the house, the challenges abound. It has been hard, but rewarding work.

For example, I want to finish our rock fence. But without rock, no fence. So I have used our wheelbarrow to get rocks from the beach and up to our yard. And, let me tell you, rocks are heavy!

But, it is starting to look good.
my wheelbarrow

And my flowers they are happy with the sun, the water and the care they are getting.

my flowers

So although this is not a gardening blog. I wanted to share with you how much gardening reminds me of real life.

The weeds that pop up everywhere is a well-known metaphor. But an important one nevertheless. They never stop. They need to be taken out daily. Like the small weeds that threatens to take over the soil in our heart that was meant to produce fruit and flowers for God, and for the world.

The importance of good soil is another good one. Steve and I spent time planting bulbs last fall, hoping we would have tons of tulips and daffodils this spring. But, sadly, the dirt was hard and not very well suited for tulips, and therefore we got just a few small ones.

The main thing I am learning, however, is patience. Nothing grows up overnight. We have to wait. We have to be persistent. And, eventually, we will see the results.

This is for sure true in my own life, as well as in our ministry. If only I could remember that when I get impatient with the lack of results, the lack of change, the lack of flowers the day I plant the seeds.

my blomkarse

I planted these some weeks ago. They are not very pretty yet, but give it a few weeks, and they will color my world. May they remind me of the seeds I plant every day, in my life, in other people’s lives, and in my efforts to make the world a better place.

So, here I sign off, because the sun is out, and it is time for me to go and dig in the dirt.

May 12

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A cyclone in my heart

I don't know if he will be alive in a few days from now. He lived right by the ocean, in a shack made from bamboo and a plastic tarp.

I don’t know if he will be alive in a few days from now. He lived right by the ocean, in a shack made from bamboo and a plastic tarp.

I have been hearing some really bad news the last few days.

The Rohingya people that I have been writing so much about, whom I have visited on two occasions this year, and whose lives and stories have grabbed my heart are now faced with another enemy: A cyclone.

Left to themselves on the beaches of Western Burma their conditions are already horrific. I have told you, in earlier blogs, about their lack of food, their lack of shelter, their lack of medicine, their lack of security, their lack of schools for their children—their lack of hope. Before getting to this sub-human way of living, they have also endured hell on earth. Violence, torture, death are words that describe each one of their stories. Their government refuse to help them, and even refuse to grant them the right to be alive in their land. So what could be worse?

That a cyclone hits the shores of the beaches where they are living in dilapidated shelters. And this is what is about to happen in a couple of days’ time. (You can read about it here.)

My husband is there right now and he says he is overwhelmed with the needs of the almost 200,000 people all around him. He is at a loss for words when he describes the attitude of local and central governments and their unwillingness to help the refugees (IDPs) evacuate to a safer place, and much less to give them food so they don’t starve in the meantime. He is also in shock over apparent lies told by some organizations who are taking the side of the government and claiming that the needs are not as bad as they actually are.

I am at a loss too. What to do when I am sitting at home in Norway, knowing that the people I recently spoke to, ate with, listened to, played with, held, hugged, took pictures of and fell in love with are in a few days time going to face a force much bigger than they have faced before.

Please join me and pray. Please join me as I am contacting the politicians and leaders I know to tell them what is happening. Please join me as I contact journalists and ask them to write the story for the world to see and hear. Please join me as I ask myself how much I can give in the relief effort that Partners is staging, and send the money here

I am going to bed with a heavy heart.

Apr 16

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Treating my soul like fabric with lycra

It is 10.40 pm and the house is quiet. Some days I cherish silence more than other days. Today is one of those days. You know the feeling of being on the go since 6 am, and this is the first time since you woke up that you sit down long enough to actually hear your thoughts? Today is one of those days.

Steve said today, on Skype, that I need to find time to nourish my soul. He is away, and we have not seen each other for a while. I shared the long list of things I had to do with him, and he said: “Find time for your soul or you will crack in half.” And I said that if I should find time for my soul too, then I would have to skip sleep, because there is no extra time in my day. None. And, I need my sleep.

Among many other things I did today, I went shopping for jeans with my NomNom (that is what I call my middle daughter). As she put the jeans in the bag, the sales lady said: “And remember to not use fabric softener with this one when you wash it.” I felt like crying. “Lady,” I thought, “do you understand anything about my life? Do you honestly think that I am going to sort my laundry and take out jeans that have lycra in them and wash them separately? I don’t even have time to wash my children’s socks. If the laundry get done, it is a good day. To think that I will have time to sort out the clothes that do better without fabric softeners is the most unrealistic thinking I have heard today.”

Suggesting that I find time in the day to nourish my soul felt a little like being told to find a way to wash some clothes without fabric softeners. I am not a super human.

But, as I am sitting here in my quiet house, I realize that my soul is not like jeans with lycra in them. My soul has other qualities. One of them is resilience.

There may not have been that 25 minute chunk of time to read something reflective, and spiritual today. There was no time to meditate on God’s word in a quiet place. But here is where I see that my soul got its vitamins and its strength today:

With my 11-year old daughter on my lap, getting hugged before the school bus came and took her away.

In the car laughing together with NomNom as she shared the most outrageous stories I have ever heard.

At a coffee shop, sipping fresh lattes and sharing a piece of carrot cake with my beautiful daughter.

On a bridge, laughing hysterically as we were trying to take a photo of ourselves.

Oddny and Naomi

Walking on the street, in a hurry, but still feeling the warm spring wind in our hair.

Driving, rushing at times, while watching the beauty of mountains and the ocean from the window.

Getting a warm welcome from the most loving dog God ever created.

Having a crockpot cook a delicious dinner while I was gone.

Sharing a meal with my kids who are pretty groovy after all, and my stepmom who is the coolest stepmom in the world.

Seeing that the dishes got done and I did not need to raise my voice.

A bottle of Australian Shiraz.

This and more have nurtured my soul today as I have been rushing about. In my head there is one compartment that focuses on the things I did not get done today. And another compartment that remembers all the beauty I experienced today. As I finish the day, I think that I want to dwell on the place that focuses on the beauty.

Apr 8

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Getting spring into my heart

After three very busy and intense weeks in Burma and Thailand I am finally back, to my kitchen table and my piles of work. I am overwhelmed. I don’t have enough hours in my days. I have too many things to do on my list. The dishwasher broke. The dog has an ear infection. The girls are cleaning their rooms, which means they leave their crap in the stairway. There are too many emails to reply to. The bills have to be paid before the bank repossess my house. My feet are cold. I need slippers.

my view

It’s hard to be in a bad mood when this is your view.

But outside the sun shines, the snow is melting, it is light until 9 pm, at least. There is spring in the air. There is the hope of a better future.

I need to look outside every time desperation threatens to overtake me. Then I am reminded that in the big picture dirty dishes don’t count. Perhaps unpaid bills do, but they don’t need to control my mood.

 

boy by Steve

This is a boy we met in Mae La refugee camp. A refugee camp is a place of poverty and sorrow, but also of laughter, resilience, kindness, imagination, forgiveness, courage, generosity and love.

I am trying to get my thoughts organized and get my head around all the stories I encountered in Burma. It seems like it is a life time away. In the days and weeks to come, you will be hearing more from my trip. The good and the bad, the fun and the sad. Hope you will stick with me.

I need you.

 

 

Mar 8

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Happy Woman’s Day

birdToday is the international women’s day. A big day for some, but for most of the world’s women, it is just a day like all others.

I have been preparing my speech for tonight. I am looking forward to meeting so many strong and engaging women. I will post the whole speech here later, but for now, I just thought I would post a small paragraph of what I want to talk about:

I want to jump out of this nest. I want to learn to fly. Perhaps I will fall and hit my head. Perhaps people will look at me and think I am weird. Perhaps I will never again be able to return to this nest. But how will I learn to fly if I never jump?

 

Feb 28

5 Comments

Money is more important than people

Yesterday my friend, Dougal, sent me this photo.

Oddny and Rohingya boySmIt made me happy and sad at the same time.

Happy because I remember this baby well. He was so cute and he kept sticking his tongue out at me. I just wanted to hold him and hug him forever.

Sad because he has no safe future. He is a nobody in the eyes of his government. He does not have a citizenship. In the eyes of his country he is a person who has entered the nation illegally. That his parents, grandparents, and ancestors before that were also born in Burma seems to be of no consequence. He will not have the right to own any land. He will not be allowed any jobs in the government. He will need a permit to get married. He will not be allowed  more than two children. He will be barred from higher education. He will most likely be among the 80%  of all Rohingyas who are not able to attend any school at all. He will be subject to forced labor. He may not even be alive next time I go to the camp where he is currently living. Because when I was there, the people were begging for help. They had no food, and lacked shelter. They had fled their destroyed villages. “If food does not arrive soon, we will all die,” the people lamented in fear.

Yesterday the President of Burma, Thein Sein, was in Norway. He was welcomed like a hero. He got to have dinner with the prime minister and other dignitaries. Next to him by the table was the Prime Minister, and the CEOs of the nation’s two leading businesses. The Telenor, a giant telecommunications company, and Statoil, Norway’s oil company #1. They want to go to Burma to invest. I assume there was no talk about this little boy and his people by the dinner table. That would have been uncomfortable and awkward. It may have made it so that they would not get a lucrative business contract after all.

The Prime Minister said: “It is a strong signal that he (Thein Sein) has chosen to visit Norway as the first country in Europe. We hope there are possibilities to strengthen the economic ties between the nations. The president told me there are about 7% of the population with access to mobile phones, but that he would like to increase it to 50%. Telenor (The norwegian telecommunication giant) is a big telecom company that can help reach that goal.”

When asked about the Rohingya, he simply said: “We brought up this issue (the conflict in Rakhine), of course. It is a serious situation. We ask that all people who live in Myanmar are treated with respect according to the human rights. But there are disagreements regarding citizenship. In that regard we have encouraged dialogue, but we will not demand that Myanmar’s government give citizenship to the Rohingyas. “

I don’t know what you think about this, but this is what I think this illustrates: Money is more important than people, especially if the people happen to be dark-skinned, poor and Muslim, like the Rohingya. Would our leaders look this little boy in the eyes and tell him that, I wonder.

 

 

 

 

Feb 26

2 Comments

Refreshin’ in London

coffeecupAn empty coffee cup in a full coffee shop. Sunday morning in London, and Steve and I are trying to live the urban life. We have squeezed into the coffee shop where all the Londoners are having their breakfast, sheltered from the cold and humid day outside. I find it fascinating that we can all be sitting here, almost shoulder to shoulder, in a small room, drinking our coffee and minding our own business while we know nothing about each other. What would happen if we got locked in here for a few days and we had to start talking to each other? What would we find out about one another?

The barista has already gotten Steve’s attention. He is enthusiastic about his task, and makes his coffee with the same vigor the matador uses to manipulate the bull in the bullfight. Elegantly and with a hint of masculine power he knocks the coffee filter on to a steel bowl, making a noise that penetrates the constant buzz of conversation in the room—boom, boom, boom, boom.  The long table in the middle reminds me of Medieval times—a long table filled with people talking and laughing. Only difference is that the beer has been exchanged with cappuccinos and lattes. The attires worn are following the 21st century trends, not the 12th.

It is easy to block the real world out of my life, and only focus on small issues that my head is capable of, like: Should I get another cup of coffee.

Steve & Odd

Here we are trying to be urban in the cold London winter.

Soon I will be back in my home, with my kids, my dog, the dust bunnies in the corners, the empty pantry and the missing school books. Soon I will be back to my inbox, my unfinished work and a messy desk. I am looking forward to it. Going back to what the people I know and who know me, going back to a place that is safe, although it is messy. Going back to a job that gives purpose and meaning.

They sure have many good beer in London. I did not need any Fish & Chips.

They sure have many good beers in London. I did not need any Fish & Chips.

A weekend away is a fun distraction. We watched a great show, and enjoyed several of the local pubs. We got to ride on the London buses, and had great talks with our good friends and soon-to-be colleagues, Matt and Amy Smith.

Many hours of talks about how to change the world through relief, development and advocacy. What else would the world need?

Many hours of talks about how to change the world through relief, development and advocacy. What else would the world need?

We got to admire Matt's new iPhone, a true wonder.

We got to admire Matt’s new iPhone, a true wonder.

I am going back to my home in the country, without the once-every-90-seconds public transport, without the coffee shops on every corner, or the sidewalks with people, used gum, pigeon poop and cigarette butts. It will be a little sad, but mostly good.

Jan 28

10 Comments

Wanting them to die.

Have you ever met people that are so unloved that a whole nation wants them to die? You, know, kind of like the Jews during WWII.

It is children like this one who are unwanted and told to leave the country. To where? Anywhere.

It is children like these who are unwanted and told to leave the country. To where? Anywhere.

 

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to belong to a people group that is despised, unloved and systematically oppressed? What would it be like to tell your child that she or he are not allowed to go to school because they government has decided that people with their skin color and religion do not belong in their country, and therefore, they have no right to education. What would that feel like if you knew that your people has faithfully served and lived in the nation for several hundred years?

The mothers had no milk to feed their babies, because the mothers had no food to eat themselves.

The mothers had no milk to feed their babies, because the mothers had no food to eat themselves.

I recently spent days with thousands of such people. The Rohingya of Arakan State, Burma. I have never seen such poverty. I have never seen such despair. I have never seen so many hungry babies whom may already be dead when I write this. I have never seen such filth. Such hopelessness. I have never seen mothers come with tears in their eyes telling me of a flight that lasted days, of beatings, torture, and now of constant hunger.

I looked at their serious children and felt completely overwhelmed and sad. I could do so little. I could only tell them that I would do what I can to help them, but I can promise nothing. Because, actually, the government in Burma makes it illegal to help the Rohingya. They do not allow aid organizations to bring food or medicine to these people. The only way we were able to stay there was because we were small and neutral and not afraid. But the people we helped were so few compared to the ones who need help. Desperately. Never have I seen so many adults, men and woman break down and cry when I talked to them. “Why do they hate us so?” they sobbed. “Why do they want to kill us?”

Why do they want to kill us, the sobbed.

Why do they want to kill us, the sobbed.

I am back in Norway now. In the comfort of my own home. Eating chocolate and drinking coffee. But the images are haunting me. I know that many of them will die. Many of the babies I held will not make it. Many of the children that looked seriously into my lens may not make it through the rainy season. Because, children cannot live without food. Sick people need medicine. When thousands congregate  in large areas with no sanitation, disease spread like a wildfire. 

I think about this baby and wonder if he is still alive.

I think about this baby and wonder if he is still alive.

I am going to post stories of the people I met in the days that follow. When you read them, think of these people as your neighbors. What should we do for them? Pray? Yes. Give? Yes. Speak about them? Yes. Write about them? Yes. Ask about them? Yes. Yes. Yes. The Rohingya have been named some of the most friendless people in the world. Please help me change that! These are people with great worth. And they are beautiful and gentle. They deserve a future and a hope.

I would really like it if you logged on the the Partners websitehere and gave a gift so that we can keep helping the Rohingya. They need us. 

Jan 9

7 Comments

Stay uncomfortable

balancing actIt’s been almost a month since I wrote anything on my blog. This must be a new record, and I have been breaking all the blog rules.(The ones that say you need to write consistently, preferably every day.) But while not blogging I have kept myself busy with other things, such as reading books and knitting. 

I have entered the new year with a commitment to not over-commit myself to anything. Part of the reason for this is that I know from past experiences that new-year resolutions never work, the other reason is my eternal need to go against the current. When everybody else is doing something, I want to do the opposite. So this year I am going to become a worse person. Haha. 

At the same time as I committed to a year of not being so nice, I have also felt challenged from all over the place. It is like the gods are ganging up on me. Only thing is, it may be God trying to speak. It is about challenges. It is about moving out of my comfort zone. It is about stretching myself to the max. It is about not getting stagnant. It’s like everywhere I turn people are talking about this. I turn on the radio and it is a documentary about some explorer talking about how he is constantly asking himself how he can learn more, stretch himself further, challenge himself to the max. I watch a movie and it as about taking great risks. I read a book and it is about going against the current, making untraditional choices. I meet people and they are people who are alive with excitement over life and the world. 

climbing and Oddny

This is me up there, doing what I don’t like. Climbing high.

So I walked in the dark with my dog and thought: What is my new challenge this year? A marathon? I mountain to climb? A classic to read? A pole to cross? 

I thought and thought and thought. Then suddenly I remembered: I am going to Burma very soon. I am going to an area that very few have ever traveled to. I am going to an area where a human disaster is happening right now, and I will have to figure out how to help these people. I am going to an area with people who are destitute and desperate. I am going to an area I know nothing about. I guess that will be challenging.

So I got my answer and I will let you know how it was to be outside my comfort zone when I get a chance. And then as the year progresses I am sure I will find new challenges to keep me alive, moving and close to the God who seems to say: Never get too comfortable. Comfort creates complacency. Complacency creates laziness. Laziness creates dullness. Dullness creates stupidity. And it goes on and on and on. So I guess my motto for 2013 could be something like this: Don’t get stupid. Stay uncomfortable.  

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