Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

As many of you may know from previous (but too few blogs), my family and I have moved from the vicinity of Copenhagen to the Isle of Bornholm, located in the Baltic sea. This is the isle where both my father and my husband were born and grew up, so in many ways, we feel that we have returned home.

Home is an interesting term for me to use - daughter of missionaries, Danish and white, but born in Tanzania, a third cultural kid turned adult. Despite my many years as a regular Danish mother, wife and teacher, home continues to be a term that challenges me. Where is home? Is home attached to a house, a street, a town? 

For me, home has rather become where I keep my belongings, wash my laundry, the place where I tuck my children into bed for the night, the place where I put my feet up and allow myself to not think any reasonable thought at all. These days, home is Nexoe. 

Moving here has surprised me immensely. Or rather, the process of moving has. I hadn't seen the emotional consequences coming. I wasn't prepared to relive all the emotions connected with every single goodbye I have ever said in my life, but it is exactly what I have been forced to. Moving, though well-thought through, well planned and well executed, stirred up so many emotions it has sent my mind reeling and my heart running. It has not been fun, although very educational. I have seen myself through much worse lenses than I have wanted to.

But I know - I believe, and I cling to the belief that God is with me through this. That I am learning and growing and that hopefully, maturing and getting closer to a better me. 

As I work with myself, at myself, I also try to look back to my heritage. I seek to know what I am made of, who I come from, and what I should bring with me into the present. As I do that, I have decided to share with you the story of a very special person in my life. I hope that you will read with me over the next weeks, maybe months, as I dedicate my blog to a woman who has influenced me greatly.

I remember a certain holiday that my family and I took in Mombasa, one of our preferred places for vacation when I was a child. My siblings and I would spend most of our time in the pool or the Indian Ocean, where the waves were huge and great fun. We loved to float around on inflated tractor tires, and it was always extra fun when the waves threw us up on the beach with incessant fervor. We would go to bed at night, skin burning from the amount of time in the sun, and our bodies so accustomed to the rhythm of the ocean, that it felt like we were floating on the water.

This one particular vacation something extraordinary happened. At least in my world. My mother skipped rope with me!

Now, that may leave you wondering about my mother. Why would this be so extraordinary? Don´t mothers play with their kids? Sure - and so did mine, but I had never seen her jump rope before. As she giggled and jump and sent curious looks in my father’s direction, it suddenly hit me: my mom used to be a little girl! I knew that - but in my world her childhood was a thousand light years away, a fairytale she used to tell me stories about. But as she laughed and skipped, a dark-haired girl formed within my imagination and I almost felt like I met my mother as she had been as a child. I suddenly realized that this woman I adored, revered and loved, was as frail a human as myself. She was flesh and blood, with a real childhood and real memories behind her. In a split second, I felt she understood me because she knew by personal experience what it was like to be a little girl. And I loved her all the more for it.

Let me introduce you to my mother - a magnificent woman, quiet and humble, but a fountain of strength and wisdom to learn from. My mother, Hannah.

My mother, Hannah, and father, Egon.

End of vacation, new chapter beginning.

Our vacation has ended officially. We left wonderful Berlin early Wednesday morning, after a (yet another) night filled with lightning, thunder and heavy rain. Packing up the last bits and pieces before hitching the trailer to the car, I found several flip flops that all had merrily sailed away in the nighttime rivers made by rain. The campsite itself was not much to talk about, except for the fact that we believe it must have been a former East German border control - right by the river. The guard tower has been turned into a laundry house, and the buildings on either side are bathrooms.

We've enjoyed Berlin, shopped too much and revisited our all-time favourite restaurant, Marsala, in Charlottenburg.

Luxembourg was an interesting  stop. We camped out in what locally is referred to Luxembourg's Switzerland, due to the mountainous terrain. Hasse, Natasja and I went for a run one morning, and after we had run 8k, Hasse wanted to run just a little bit more... unfortunately, he got lost and ended up running 21 k instead of the planned 12 - this up in the mountains and with no water. Almost as  if sent by God, a car stopped with an elderly couple who knew exactly where he was trying to get to, and they gave him water and drove him the rest of the way. I am quite thankful for these generous people - they may not be aware of it themselves, but to me, they were modern-day Samaritans!

Besides beautiful, Luxembourg was also expensive, so we didn't shop a thing. Nice country - but a bit out of our league.

Berlin is more our thing. Like mentioned in an earlier post, we love this city - we feel at home here. And it's been really nice to revisit places that we've spent a lot of time at. But now, a new time in our lives & our new home beckons. We've been on a long journey since July 11th, we've driven hundreds of kilometers, and we've looked forward to getting out of the trailer, into more private rooms and with proper closet space.

But even though our vacation has ended, our adventure has just begun. A new chapter is about to unfold, and in just a few more weeks, we'll hold the keys to our new home in our hands. How wonderful is that. 

This is indeed not a bad place to be.

The thermometer must be close to 40 degrees (Celsius), and my daughters have retrieved to the sparse shadows at our campgrounds. Johanna has lured her father to the pool - where we all ought to be, but the heat seems to be draining all energy from our bodies. And we are tired.

Not only was it a long drive from Holland to Varreddes, France, with an adrenalin-surging trip through Brussels, but we visited Disneyland yesterday, and stayed on till 11 p.m to watch the truly stunning fireworks and laser show marking the park's 20th anniversary. We were back in our beds around 1 in the morning, and the girls managed to sleep till 10.30, where I decided to wake them up.

But let me back up a bit... the adrenalin-surging trip through Brussels...
Hasse and I had agreed that we would love to see Manneken Pis, a small bronze fountain sculpture of a small boy peeing. I know. Who really wants to see a small boy pee... but still, we did. The sculpture has cultural significance for the Belgians, much like the Little Mermaid is important to Danes. Mannekin Pis was designed by Hiëronymus Duquesnoy the Elder, and was put in its place 1618 or 1619.

We did manage to find the little sculpture, but I believe it was only Natasja and I that really saw him, as he was placed on a corner in what I would perceive to be the old town - the roads were very narrow and there were no parking spots. Hasse had to drive on, hoping to find somewhere to park, but as we were driving with the trailer (caravan) trailing behind us, it was a feat quite impossible! In short, we blocked up traffic and had to stress quite a bit to unblock traffic! So, we decided also to look for the European Union Headquarters... still with the trailer hitched onto the car. Believe me - you do not want to try that! Brussels is very hilly and without any clue about the headquarters whereabouts, we succumbed to the classic "let's-sneer-at-each-other-because-that-certainly-helps" behavior. Not something to be proud of, for sure.

We did make it out alive, though - car, trailer and all five of us.

In Paris, we climbed (yes, climbed the stairs) to the 2nd floor, me about to die from fear of heights, but it was worth it all. Paris is a beautiful city, and the Eiffel Tower a beautiful sight. We walked around for miles in the heat of day, and were very touristy and hungry and had nothing less than Chinese for lunch - the price was just right and the restaurant at the right spot at the right time.

We've been to Disneyland twice, done both parks (Disney itself and the Disney Studio) and we all agree it's been worth it - expensive, yes, hot, yes, too many people and too long ques, yes, but the parks are so well kept, so pretty, so thought-through that it's a pleasure to walk around them, trying whatever rides you care for (I simply have to suggest you try both Peter Pan and Pirates of the Caribbean). We saw both parades (one in either park) and the Dream Show last night, featuring Peter Pan in a laser version, taking us though a number of classics with fireworks and laser lights and Disney music till you could stand no more.

But perhaps the best part isn't over yet. The best part is rubbing shoulders as a family. After a year away at school, Natasja is with us again, and it's been a challenge for all of us to figure out how to be a family of five and not four. We've quarreled. We've sneered at each other, but most importantly, we've had some heart-to-heart talks about really important things, each word drawing us a little closer together, sharpening our outward focus, softening our tongues and opening our eyes to the changes that have subtly taken place in all of us over the last 12 months. This is indeed not a bad place to be.

Tomorrow we pack up the trailer again, this time heading to Luxembourg, where we will spend 2 nights before Berlin calls for our attention. We leave France a little bit wiser, I hope, richer in experience, I am sure. I hope that Luxembourg will offer a lesson or two as well, before Berlin soothes our senses with it's familiarity (we used to have a holiday apartment in Berlin, visiting it often). After Berlin awaits our new future - our new home on Bornholm, where both school, kindergarten and jobs are new and untried land for the 5 of us.

Pictures of all our adventures will have to wait till I have a better Internet connection - but I promise a potpourri of holiday snapshots featuring my lovely, crazy little family later in August.

Amsterdam

Amsterdam. The city of bikes, trams and any sexual orientation under the sun. Or should I have left out that part? It's true, you know.

We've been here for a few days now, staying in a beautiful summer home about an hour away from Amsterdam with my husband's family, safe behind one of the many dams holding back water that should have covered the ground that we walk on here. The area is cosy and cute, with every front yard extremely well-kept and booming with blooms. It's beautiful and all film-like, like a Hollywood suburb in some Hollywood romance.

But back to Amsterdam. The city is a melting pot of people, bikes, trams and shops, buzzing like a beehive in the heat of summer. We've seen almost every type of personality here, from women with bright green hair to sensual, deep black men and women, to cross-dressed Asians and perfectly normal and average teenagers and working husbands and wives. My husband commented after a "in-your-face" trip down one of the alleys of the Red Light District: "this must be what the (Biblical) city of Corinth was like". The women in the windows and doorways were indeed very beautiful, but I found myself unable to look them in the eye - when I did manage a small peep, I meet emotionless eyes, no trace of any heart or feeling, not a hint of a smile or frown. We quickly retrieved to the safety of the more clothed madness of the city.

But I cannot help but think about those women, and bless my husband's heart for saying a prayer out loud for them. They were not created for this. They were not created for looking for love, acceptance and value in the filthy arms of men willing to exploit their fellow humans. Men were not created to act in this way, degrading themselves to the horrible acts of supporting prostitution - and in many cases human trafficking!

Walking these streets, I was reminded of a book called Living  on the Devil's Doorstep, written by no less than Floyd McClung. Floyd and his wife Sally lived in Amsterdam, reaching out to those in great need in this city. I can warmly recommend the book - it's a great read and also a true story. Thinking about this book, I felt slightly better knowing that there are already people in Amsterdam trying to reach out and love on these women, pointing to Jesus for hope and assurance and value. I cannot imagine my life without Him, how empty and pointless it would all be, and my deepest desire is for everyone else to experience how transforming and absolutely pure and free His love is!

Anyhow - there is no easy transition from this tainted topic to a more family-suited one...

As already mentioned, we are in Amsterdam with our family, and with 4 teenage girls, shopping was at the top of out to-do list. So we spent quite a lot of time in the more modest part of town, shopping and enjoying whatever Amsterdam  otherwise could offer. We didn't get to the museums, having a 5 and a 6 year old tagging along as well, so Anne Frank and Rembrandt will have to wait (unfortunately - I would really have liked to see these places and paintings).

Tomorrow morning we leave again, this times with bags packed for Paris. Ahead of us Disney Land awaits, a well as the Eiffel Tower and perhaps the Avenue des Champs-Élysées.

Update from Sweden.

Today it is exactly a week since we packed all our boxes into a truck and sent them on their way to Bornholm. Currently, everything is waiting for us in a barn, where it will stay till we start moving into our new house September 1st. 

We've begun our life as "trailer trash", as my husband so eloquently put it on facebook. We are enjoying the beautiful Swedish weather at Vineyard Nordens annual Summer Camp (it often rains... this year we are quite lucky with high blue skies and a hot sun). I am waiting, relaxing, vacationing and learning all at the same time. My spiritual life has taken me somewhere I am not comfortable - I know I am waiting on the Lord - waiting for His direction and His move in my life, but I don't know exactly what I am waiting for. As this mornings devotional speaker said... when it comes to faith, sometimes God will put you in an uncomfortable place in order for a breakthrough in your life to become possible. Perhaps I am waiting for that breakthrough....

And as all of this is going on, I have taken up running again. I've gone from being completely passive to running 4, then 5, now 6 kilometers in just 4 runs. I am elated! My good form and shape hasn't disappeared completely! Never mind the amount of time - I was thinking about it this morning, as I ran and mused over life and my own progression... the time in which I ran 6k was not at all impressive - but then again, Sweden is just about made up of a million hills, and I've been pushing myself up and down these hills the last 2 times I've been running. I had a great sentence in mind about the hills while running - now I cannot remember that sentence for the life of me!

I am enjoying camp. As an introvert character, having a trailer is a blessing. Being able to buy Internet access and sit in my trailer working on planning next school year (and blog a bit) is a true blessing. Here I can sit and look out my windows, enjoying the bustle of happy campers around me while gathering energy to throw myself back into mingling again. Here I can sleep at night without waking up wet and cold from tenting. Here I can cook and eat and feel civilized.  Here I can dream about the future and still invite people in for coffee. 

Here I can gather strength for the next leg of our journey as a family - a journey that will take us places we probably cannot imagine. A journey that will stretch us, drain us, renew us and hopefully draw us closer to not only each other, but God himself!

I looove the Swedish wooden houses!

Sshhhh....

I think I made a scoop! I am not very good at frequenting 2nd hand stores (mostly cause I'm too lazy to actually shop by the "search and ye shall find" method), but a few days ago I ventured into the one here in town. I hadn't been in the store for more than a few minutes when my eyes fell on this box:

It looked old and forgotten, the sort of thing you'd find in your grandma's attic if she had one. I had to have a peep inside, a lo and behold, it was a box full of old fashioned sewing patterns! All the patterns were in really good shape and I am guessing they are from the 50's. Included in the box was a DIY "this is how you make a pattern fit your shape" book from 1954! (I know there is a word for that, but right now, way past my bedtime, I can't find it in the back of my head!)

I honestly believe I have made quite the scoop, paying the silly price of 30 kr ($5,23 or 3,43 GP) for the entire box! I paid real fast before they realized the huge mistake they were making, and quickly carried the box like a dear treasure to the safety of my car.

Now, I don't really have the time to revel over my find, as we are truly packing our lives into boxes these days, but it will almost be like christmas when I sometime in the future open up that box and actually have time to look through the patterns and choose one for a dress or skirt.

Packing update

 So... school is out for the summer, and I spent quite a few hours sorting and cleaning out my cupboards at school. I have been employed at that particulat school for 11.5 years - quite a long time for me! Image the stuff that I've saved and hidden away for all those years. Moving offers a unique opportunity to sort out, clean out and throw out junk!

 I've been ok with the thought of moving, but during the last few days of work, it dawned on me that there are people I care about, that I will most likely never see again. I came home from work one of the last days and sat down with a cup of coffee, my husband talking away about houses that we shold go see, now that we're in the market for a new home. I wasn't listening. My thoughts were occupied with saying mentally goodbye, and when he noticed, I had to shed a few tears.

My last day of work was a mixed experience - I went through the wellknown motions of having fun with the kids, gathering with the whole school to watch some kids perform, joining in our vocal welcome to the summer holidays and saying goodbye to the students. 

The annual staff summer party started off really well, and I was sursprised by speeches, gifts and too many compliments. I shed yet another tear, but dried my eyes and had a wonderful party with some wonderful people. 

I know look forward to the future, knowing that I leave behind med 11.5 years of hard, heartbreaking, joyous and victorious work. I leave behind me a lot of competent people who will continue to work hard at offering the best to the kids of that neighborhood. I leave behind me an insecure, shy and somewhat frightened young teacher, and as I step forward, into my future, I strive to take with me a mature, secure and bold grown woman, eager to impart whatever knowledge I may, anxious to inspire and encourage another bunch of children.

It's been SOO long

It's been 9 months since I have last blogged about anything - that's a lot of time - time enough for a pregnancy. I am, however, not pregnant, although a lot of changes have happened in my life within the past 9 months. Most of them have happened since this past January.

Currently we are packing. I am actually taking a break from trying to pack my oldest teenage daughter's room into as few boxes as possible. Up till now, that's 5 boxes, and I am not finished. I know that she has sorted her stuff and thrown out a lot, but boy.... there's a lot of stuff! I find myself panicking slightly when I think about the rest of the house!

But then again - I am trying to pack down almost 12 years of living in this house. 18 years of marriage. 16 years with kids. And we'll be loading all that into the back of a big truck on June 10th.

We're uprooting our family to move to the isle of Bornholm, the place of my dad's childhood and my husband's as well. We've been called to serve in a freechurch in the town of Nexoe - the home of Danish author Martin Andersen Nexoe (1869-1954) (Nexoe is spelt Nexø in Danish, but as this letter doesn't excist in the English alphabet, we adapt it to "oe").

Bornholm is situated in the Baltic Sea, closer to Sweden than to Denmark, but Danish through and through. Bornholm is a beautiful place with an incredible nature. We've joked about moving there for years, and now it is becoming a reality. I took a chance and quit my job here without having a new one lined up - quite a risk, as there are very few jobs available on Bornholm - but by what I consider to be the grace of God, I was offered a part-time job teaching English at a small private school. I think that is just perfect!

Within 3 weeks, our house was sold, and within 4 weeks, I had a job. Somehow that just makes it seem like the right thing for us to do.

So, as I pack up my house and home, I also try to clean out my head, heart and soul - what can I leave behind? What has proven worthless, or usefull? What lesson have I learned here, that I ought to take with me? Believe me, there are many thoughts.

It's an adventure about to begin. A fairytale of sorts that awaits us in the near future. We get to begin again - a new home (which we stil haven't found), new friends, a new time for our girls and ourselves.

Between this life and that, there's summer - a summer that will find us living in our camper, driving through some of Europe, as we enjoy our family, relax, eat well and sleep late, all the time awaiting our new life on Bornholm.

The cliffs on the east side of Bornholm