I love this song by Sara Groves. Redemption and grace. It comes in funny and strange ways in our lives. And I love the line “and this is grace: an invitation to be beautiful”. God redeems me into His beauty. Into His ezer kenegdo. Sustainer of Life, in relationships, the Body and the world. I’m only getting glimpses of what it might be like. It is so vast – and so detailed! I want to be part of what God’s doing in other people’s lives. To add beauty to the Story!
”This is grace – an invitation!” That’s how I want my life and my yes to God to be. Not a mere “I have to” but a yes to the invitation – the out stretched hand, the voice that says “come!”. To be irreplacable. I always hated wearing work clothes in the hospital, even the mere thought have made me cry. Just the thought and feel of being anonymous, a part of the system, a part easily replaced. Stripped of self. God invites ME (and YOU!!) because I’m me.
“It comes in loving communities” – I feel I have such good eväät to head out into the world with, having been in a loving community! I feel safe going for I know I’ve been loved and safe and loaded with the wisdom of other’s. Community is tricky, and the need for constant redemption evident – but there’s nothing for which I would trade it.
Lately lots of stuff’s been happening, altho I cannot define many of them.
For one, I’ve accepted a job offer in Oslo, Ammerudlundens Sykehjem, where I’ll take care of ladies with MRSA – and go hiking a lot! On that note, yes, I am now the proud VMPL Mommy of a brand new trangia! I shall call it Galli-Leo.
Other things. Tears. Lots of them. And friends to share them with. I will not close my heart to emotion, and pain is one. This is one way the pain is displayed and shared. And it feels wonderfully strong and feminine at the same time. Thank yous for hugs and love even as I cannot define what bubbles up in me. Makes be think of butterflies, they just get this urge, an undefined need of …something. And they break through their puppa, leaving what they know for what they have no promises about. I, however, have promises: God’s plan to take care of me, not abandon me, to give the future I hope for.
The reality of leaving this place with all the wondrous people and trees and river and BC’s and neighbours is dawning upon me. But in order to recieve new things one has to let go of the things one is holding on to. And every end is a begining of something new. I just feel I’ll lose so much, I find it hard to trust it will still remain in some shape or form, and that I am indisplaceable. I am however begining to relax more in my relationships, but do I trust other’s commitment?? I found a song that comforts me, I chose not to take it as morbidly as one could. And I concider the ‘you’ as being in plural. I think God reminded me of this song in his preparing me to say ’see ya’. Reminding me of the wonderful ever lastingness of life.
It’s been good to be in Turku. I am however looking forwards to go somewhere compleatly different, to be taken out of my usual surroundings and see what’s left of me. Sort of test what God has turned me into during the last few years. I will not shut down. That would be a victory for someone who is already defeated.
Saw Maailman ihanin tyttö today, beautiful pictures of girls, princesses, who got to imagine, plan and; having then been photographed; see themselves as lovely and beautiful in a photo. A true yet imaginary picture of who they really are, an ideal but true. Their inner beauty seen, acknowledged and brought forth. It’s Empowering photography – art and theraphy.
Someone just called me by name. It was shocking to see it used by someone else, not just me. It was like seeing a princess photo of myself. Someone else saw it, and it became real. Whoa.
You dance over me while I am unaware – You sing all around when I do not hear…
Just got back from a conference in Estonia, from a forest full of little blue precious flowers and dirt roads to walk bare feet on. I was delighted to be in the presence of the Holy Spirit, to have Him break through darkness and reach me. The Lord is good. I feel I’m somehow back to being me, back to realising and knowing God is greater, that the Holy Spirit will come thru. Hope and faith begin to be restored again.
The movies I always loved as a child were Indiana Jones – and the TV-series about MacGyver. I still love the feel of them, or perhaps, the memory of them as I have not seen either in so many years. And the title music! There’s just something so thrilling and enticing in them!
However, I still remember MacGyver making a tunnel out of barrells to save a girl who’d fallen into a pit, and I remember how he created this …hot air balloon out of like shirt and a tin can and a lighter or something, sending it off to get a message out when he for some reason was imprisoned. The thing I liked about him, was him being so clever and not macho. I can’t recall him being macho (but hey, I was like 6, little did I comprehend about such things). I liked his anti-violence. I cannot remeber him ever shooting a gun.
Now Indiana then…. I mostly liked the adventure. The danger. The thrill. He as a person was not all that appealing, not compared to MacGyver and his witts. Perhaps I did register a bit of being macho, altho I was but a wee child.
I want to be part of something bigger. I want to sew clothes. I want to paint, draw. Sketch. I want to walk around in nature, being struck by the beauty of it all. I want to get my own trangia and go for long hikes. Sleep under the stars – in Gods fabulous One Million Stars Hotel. Read lots and lots of books. Enjoy simplicity. Not being involved in every activity available. Find a Nia class. See a Rolfer. Go to a Oslo Gospel Choir concert. Cycle around, not knowing where I am but having faith in my ability to find my way back. Being unattached from so many sammanhang. Be creative. Enjoy simplistic solitary. Dance furiously and beautifully. Sing in the rain. Walk around town. Picking up works by C.S. Lewis that I lay down a few years ago not really being able to grasp (but longing for the day when I’d give them another go). Meet an internet friend. Find a cell group. Integrate art and creativity with nursing. Bring others into the joy of creating. Expand my imagination. Drink lots of post work latte. Learn a new language, that, I right now, cannot take very seriously, it’s way to funny!
To delight in a slower pace, which I struggle to create here and now – not that I feel I’m even trying very hard.
My tears are not born out of my weakness. They are sprung from strength. The strong longings, those overwhelming emotions, great joy and vast sorrow. Strong emotions with an over flow of pearls, seeking their individual ways down my cheeks.
They are not embarrassing nor manipulative – they are not a show for anybody else, they are mine. And they are strong. This is, perhaps, the real reason they are not shed so often, and seldom in the presence of others: they are overwhelmingly strong. Can you take it??
I want that strength to be unveiled, but I want it, too, to be a good and righteous strength. I am filled with awe and gratitude towards those friends who see this and tell me about it. And who are brave enough to stay around.
Loneliness has left me searching
For someone to love
Poverty has changed my view
Of what true riches are
Sorrow’s opened up my eyes
To see what real joy is
Pain has been the catalyst
To my heart’s happiness
Loss is evident; Jenny’s gone, and an era of laughter, mischief, intimacy and daily chats has ended. Dass Disco has closed, fits of 50’s jukebox music and dancing is yet again covered by a mist of nostalgia. And all that, which is Jenny, is absent. By God, not lost, but absent.
Riches have been found, too. In the absense of really all my usual hang out buddies, I’ve come to see the beautyof those friends I don’t normally spend heaps of time with. In the absense of several so dear ones, I’ve discovered such riches! Pain and loneliness forces me to connect anew. And it is such a blessing to discover that the hearts I reach out to are happy to answer me with kindness and friendship.
It’s right there in my stomach. A strength and a belief in something greater and that in the end things will work out. And a hope, in my chest, that I am not alone. Hope speaking to me He’s got it all in His hand. I want to let this hope flow over to others, to patients in despair, to friends, to God, even.
The reason for good strength to move, to contract, to push through the brick wall, is hope. What joy is bestowed on the one who has come through! What else would make a chick break through the shell?
Pic: V.K.
I went to a house warming party at Ville’s and Frank’s tonight. At parties I tend to me very hyper but never really talk to anyone. Why so? Suppose I find it hard to relax; to allow other’s to break the silence; to come up with things to say – to keep a conversation going. Oh I dread it at times, now that I think of it!!
I was happy to hide out in the little kitchen baking rolls. Contributing, keeping my hands buzy. And interestingly enough, I did talk for a bit of a longer time with a couple of people I only knew to see. Being there, I pressume, also made me feel more at home and not so much as a visitor. I don’t want to feel like a visitor in that particular flat.
