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Posts tagged ‘Reflections’

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.

A glimse of courage to live.

I am going to quote a new friend and staff member, R ( I cannot use his name for security reasons). He sent me this reflection this morning and it moved me.

R  is young and has just joined our staff. I am glad that he chose us, and even more glad he has chosen the people who are unloved and unwanted by so many.

web res Grass hut village

“It’s my first day here, and we wasted no time, heading straight into the camps – a very serious situation, one that I really had to see to understand – knowing little of the situation and history here, it’s a very fast and real eye opener.

baby and mother

I have never met a friendlier people—a heart warming openness to our presence. I saw a people deemed insignificant by ‘authorities’, yet significant in that I personally know that they are loved and cared for, if not by those that should – by us as a team, and most importantly, God.

web res kyauk pyu forced relocation day

There is no greater joy than seeing a smile in such darkness, giving a glimpse of the will to stand up for themselves, above a life weighed down by heavy burdens and a self-worth beaten and broken – a poor spirit so disturbingly walked over, because of an unreasonable hatred towards them – the words spoken from the people themselves that really hit my heart:  ‘we are ready to die here’.

beautiful child

It was comforting knowing that they were so open to our presence, so willing to have us, but as the storm still approaches, for me personally it comes down to faith, trust in God, and the strength of a community.”

The good news is that it seems the storm has passed, and that only minimal damage was done in the camps. The bad news is that the refugees still have to stay there, in the dirty camps without much to eat, if any.

I am glad they have people like R working on their side.

A God who obviously doesn’t care

Something provoked me today.

Actually, a lot has provoked me recently and I am not going to go into the details.

Let me start at the beginning.

There is a cyclone coming to Western Burma, right. I already shared that. So those of us who are not in the area where the cyclone is supposed to hit are sitting around biting our nails wondering how big the devastation is going to be. It’s ironic, because the devastation has already happened. There are 140,000 people in Western Burma right now who are homeless, sick and starving. My husband, Steve, and our team leader, Brad, are literally running rugged trying to be that little drop in the ocean that can mean a difference to some of the ones in need.

What got me provoked (in addition to hearing of the lack of care and response of the Burma government) was when one of our staff members asked people to pray on her Facebook page. And somebody commented: “What about sending something that actually works instead of praying to a God who obviously doesn’t care.” 

It stung all the way to where I was sitting.

This is why:

We are sending everything we have, including our husbands and wives. We are using money that people have given, every bit of it, to help where the help is needed. Yesterday, for example, we were able to feed 5000 people who had not eaten for five days. They food will only last them for some days. But at least it was food.

See this woman and her seven kids? They had not eaten for five days. So we gave them food. Not enough  of course, but we gave what we were able to. Wish that the rest of the world would do the same. If they did, people would not starve.

See this woman and her seven kids? They had not eaten for five days. So we gave them food. Not enough of course, but we gave what we were able to. Wish that the rest of the world would do the same. If they did, people would not starve.

Our team is sitting with these people in the pouring rain, assisting them, loving them, speaking on their behalf, trying to protect them, trying to comfort them, trying to give them what nobody else seems willing to give.

Who dares to say: Send something that actually works? I wanted to ask that person: What more can we send than what we are already sending? And: Why don’t you give up your comfort and wealth instead of pointing your finger to us?

And how dares anyone speak about a God who does not care? Is the suffering in the world caused by God now? Is he the reason state leaders allow innocent people to suffer? Is he the reason people in the West are more concerned with Angelina Jolie’s boobs than with the fact that thousands are facing death? Is he the reason we would rather spend more money on ourselves than on children who have nothing to eat?

I have seen a lot of suffering over the years. Much of it has brought me to tears. Much of it has left me depressed and overwhelmed. But it has not made me blame God for the suffering. Because I have seen where the suffering is coming from. It is from people. I have asked victims of violence how the suffering affects their faith, and this is what they have said: “How can we blame God for this? He is not responsible for this. Man is. If you take our faith in God away from us, then we have nothing.”

And that pretty much sums it up.

PS. By the way, feel free to give to Partners. We need your money more than ever. I know this is tacky, but it is true. You are not giving to me, but to people who don’t know what they are going to eat tomorrow. This will take you to a donation page. Good luck!

 

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.

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.

 

 

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?

 

Facing fear

fear1It is a new week, and I am glad that Mondays come once a week. In a way I feel that Mondays are times for new starts. Almost like New Year, but so much more frequent.

This week’s main goal is to prepare a speech I will do  for Women’s day, March 8th. It is a big event in Levanger, my “hometown.” I have not decided what to talk about yet, but it will have to do about courage, and not giving in to fear.

I will make sure to post the notes here, so you can read what I have to say.

While waiting for my notes, here is a good quote that I read this morning:

“Courage is the resistance to fear, mastery of far, not absence of fear.” Mark Twain said that.

This is a good thing for me to remember, because I often think that it is the fear that is the problem, but it is not wrong to feel fear, it is just not right to be controlled by it.

 

 

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.

Be nice or you will get a big nose

Among many other things the past week, we have enjoyed watching a theater Naomi, our middle daughter, has been a part of. It is a very local, very young and very enthusiastic group of actors and directors.

Naomi has the role as Limping Lina, and she is angry, bitter and mean. Mostly because people are always making fun of her and teasing her. She is actually a witch. But even mean witches had feelings at one time, and even witches can be made nice with love.

Naomi, the mean and bitter Limping Lina.

Naomi, the mean and bitter Limping Lina.

The one child who teases Limping Lina the most, her tormentor above other tormentors, is a girl named Lissa. Because she is so mean, her nose grows unimaginable large.

I liked watching the theatre. Mostly because Naomi did such a great job, and also because I knew a lot of the other kids. But I also liked the story. It had a good moral:

If you are mean to people you will get a nose that looks like a trunk.

Be nice or you will get a very long nose

Be nice or you will get a very long nose

Many people become unlikeable because people have been mean to them first. If you just show them some love, they will most likely become nice people.

People are followers. They will follow people who tell them to do mean stuff and they will follow people who tell them to be nice. It is a lot better to lead the world into doing good than to lead the into being bad.

People are followers

People are followers

As I think about the situation I have encountered in Burma (as well as the injustices I hear about from around the world), I have thought that a good solution would have been to let the tormentors get big noses. There ought to be some kind of natural law that automatically makes noses grow huge when you break the law of human dignity and treat people meanly. I would even vote for letting the noses have worts if they do such horrible things to innocent civilians as they for example do to the Rohingya, as well as to many other ethnic groups in Burma. Then they would walk around at the markets, to their gala dinners and to their political meetings, and all people would look at them knowingly: “Aha, there goes a human rights violator, a person who is mean and dishonest, who will take advantage of others in order to get what he or she wants. That nose serves him or her well!”

It is unlikely that it will happen, but it is an interesting thought.

 

 

The courage to cry

I don’t know if I have ever seen a grown man cry the way he did. Jakil walked into the room we were sitting looking serious and determined. His hair was combed and well-kept, he was wearing a nice shirt and the traditional Burmese loyngi.

Jakil

He didn’t look like a refugee to me, but like a dignified man. It occurred to me then, like often before, that nobody is born to be a refugee. When forced to live in a camp, removed from their home, their job, their loved ones, and everything that is safe and familiar to them, people are robbed of what is most important in their lives. When they grow up constantly hearing that they are unwanted, unloved, ugly, smelly, corrupt, violent, dirty and dishonest, it does something to one’s self esteem. Many of the people I met and saw looked defeated. They looked like they had lost hope. But not Jakil. He looked like he wanted to die fighting for the rights of his people, the Rohingya.

His grandfather was a judge. And not any judge. He was one of the judges that sentenced the person responsible for the assassination of General Aung San, the father of modern Burma. Now his grandson was sitting in front of us, sobbing. 

The people in his village were the main fishermen in the area. They were an old community from British colonial times. When they sensed they would be attacked by rebels, they asked the military for protection. The army and police reassured them that they would be safe. If something happened they would be there to protect them. That is what they said.

When their village got attacked, the rebels came from both ends. There was no protection for the unarmed villagers.  The rebels destroyed the mosque and the Koran. (These people are Muslims. It is one of the reasons they are being targeted.) They put the houses on fire. All the old and handicapped people in the village died.Nobody was able to save them. Even the Buddhist monks had swords and attacked the villagers. 

The whole village ran away to another township that night. It was across the river from their village. But soon they ran out of food. Their only option now was to get on a boat and seek refuge somewhere else. When they came to a town, they asked for permission to dock, so they could walk to a refugee camp, but they were denied permission. “You are not welcome here. We don’t want you here. We don’t care what happens to you,” was the message. It was late at night, there was a storm, and instead of getting refuge in a town that could have saved them, they were forced back on the open sea. They all knew it was a very dangerous journey, but what else could they do?

On the way to the other side of the ocean one of the boats sunk. 42 of the 56 people on the boat drowned. Among them were 11 of Jakil’s relatives. “I lost my mother, three sisters, one brother and six nephews and nieces aged 3,  5, 6, 7, 8, 14 years old that night,” he cries, bent over on his chair as he is trying to retell the story. He fumbles with an old mobile phone and gives to us. On the screen we see the pictures of the dead bodies of all his relatives. They are all gone now. His home, his village, his family. He only has his memories and his pain left.

He wipes his tears and looks at us and asks:

“Why do they do this to us? The government says ‘you cannot study because you don’t have citizenship.’ But we don’t have citizenship because we are not allowed to. We are natives of this land, yet we are not allowed  citizenship. Why did the government not take action? They could have stopped this.”

I look at him. Feeling awkward and sad. Anger comes later. What do you say to a man who just lost eleven relatives? How can the government officials justify their actions? How deep is the hate they harbor in their hearts for Rohingyas who just asked for a chance to dock their boat so that they could walk the many miles to a temporary refugee camp? Sometimes I wonder if animals treat their fellow beings as bad as humans do. 

But looking at Jakil and so many of the other people I met, I am comforted by the fact that while there are so many evil men and women, there are more who are good, courageous, brave, generous, and full of integrity. Let’s help give them the right to live.

PS. I have deliberately left out names of places, towns and villages here. Also, Jakil is not his full name. This is all for security and protection for Jakil, the other villagers, and for Partners workers in the area. Do, however, help us by sharing this story and the other stories I share about the Rohingya. The world needs to be told. Also, please give! We need funds to keep working in the area. A little goes a long way. A lot goes even further :-)

Partners website

Photo by Kim Sorensen.

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