What would you do if you weren't afraid?

I have a fascination for the women who fought in various resistance groups during WWII. Fascination in the way that I admire them for their fearless courage, commitment to a cause they believed in, and total dedication in the struggle and fight for freedom.
I feel grateful for them, grateful to think that they risked having to leave their home and family, they risked their own life. They gave up jobs and personal safety. They lived a life in danger, always having to look over their shoulder, always being careful in everything they did.

As their husbands, sons and fathers were away at war, many women took on jobs they normally would not have had. They kept the work places going. They fed their families. Previous forbidden job opportunities opened up for women.

Some were drafted to non-combat jobs in the military. But there were many who worked underground. Some were spies, others worked with cryptography. But most often women helped house refugees and other members of the resistance groups and helped make and distribute illegal newpapers.

One of the most dangerous tasks women had during the war, was that of a courier. Even though the Germans did not suspect a woman as much as they would a man in this role, it was the most hazardous job to have. If they were caught, they had the sensitive material with them. There was no excuse, nor any way out.

Some were caught and sent to prison, experiencing torture and horrible treatment. Many ended up in concentration camps.

As a freelance magazine journalist, I recently finished an article about a Norwegian resistance woman, Henriette Bie Lorentzen. As I learned about her life and her bravery, I was filled with admiration and gratefulness. I spoke with her son and daughter, the latter who was actually born while Henriette was imprisoned.

I salute these women and thank them. Even if they survived the war, many
would have problems for the rest of their lives, both psychological with post-traumatic stress-syndrom and trying to forget with alchohol and pills.

Today, I read a meme that said, "What would you do it you weren't afraid?". It was from the Togethernessproject, a group that invites women to stand together, and be brave together.

It got me thinking. What would I do with my life if I had no fear of men, no fear of what others might say or think? What could I accomplish in my life if I did not worry, if I wasn't sceptical and filled with a lack of self-confidence. Would my life be different? Would I do things differently?

It's a thought I will pursue and ponder. Maybe I will be able to see that I can do more than I think now.

Today's water color is "Late Spring". Choose the darkness of the clouds or the light piercing through.

Mothering

Above all the jobs, callings, opportunities, gifts, blessings, chores, and joys in my life, I would choose mothering again and again. This time-consuming, all-encompassing, happy and sometimes frustrating task is in one word wonderful.

I would not give it away, nor change it, just make the best out of every moment, every day.

I admire my own mother. Watched her. Learned from her. Chose to be as much like her as I could. I watched other mothers as I was growing up, picking out good traits that I thought I would implement in my life when I had children one day. I also observed things I decided not to do in my future family life.

Wikipedia will tell you that a mother is a woman who gives birth to a child and raises it, but I believe it is so much more than that. Mother is a title, a loving bond, a connection, an honorable relationship. The word itself brings on a flood of emotions and loving feelings.

Sheri L. Dew, an inspirational speaker, talks about motherhood in a wider perspective that any encyclopedia will explain. In her famous talk, Are We Not All Mothers? , she explains how every woman is a mother. I love that concept.

Yesterday was Mother's Day here in Norway. I thought about my mother and my heart swelled with thankfulness and love.  I posted a photograph of her on Facebook (above), remembering her many smiles and always open arms.

Today's pictures: ice cream with my mother, water color showing motherhood

Grandma in the Drawer

Invasion of people we love during the holidays. Rooms are filled with people and bags. The refrigerator is filled to the brim. Shoes and winter boots crowd the hallway.

When the evening comes and I am sleepy and tired after a day of play with young and old, the love of my life and I retire to the room with the trundle bed. Our bedroom houses one of the young families visiting.
The trundle bed is a large oak bed from California. It has been around for about fifty years and survived many moves from country to country. It creaks when you turn over, but the top mattress is comfortable.

I pull the drawer out, crawl in, and pull the feather quilt around me. I pretend that the mattress in the drawer is not as thin as it feels. The window is slightly open to let the winter freshness gently enter. I puff the feather pillow just right and drift off into dream land. Fortunately, I am a good sleeper. Off to weird, funny, and sometimes scary dreams I go.

I would gladly sleep on the floor if it meant making room for the family for Christmas. How wonderful it is to spend the holidays with those we love.

So a few days ago we brought four of our children with their families to our cabin in the mountains. Wilderness and snow, icy roads, and a cabin called Eljarbu filled with candles, lights, Christmas food, music, and happy people. A roaring fire in the wood burning stove kept the living room warm, where games were played and nostalgic Christmas movies on TV were shown.

Arnfinn chopped down a small, crooked Christmas tree with the grandchildren. Scott (3) brought his sword to help cut it down.

Christmas lights adorned the veranda and during the night, naughty dinosaurs raided the cookie jar.

Snowball fights, walks in the mountains, sauna, snow bathing, hot, cold, hot, cold. Healthy and fun.

Now I am back to a few more days in the drawer. And I am grateful.

The Circle of Life in Our Families

The Circle of Life.

Elton Johns beautiful melody with lyrics by Tim Rice is a song that moves us.

We all experience this circle in our lives. Some members of the family finish their time on earth, others arrive as innocent infants with a life ahead of them.

This past week my 91 year old father-in-law quietly passed away. It was his time to go. A long life is over--at least, here on earth.

His expertise and talents were greatly developed during that time, relationships formed, endless stories told.

He was a storyteller, a man with much humor and entertaining tales up his sleeves.
I am grateful now for all the hours I spent next to him, notebook and pen on my lap, writing down all his words when he was in one of his telling moods.

People leave a legacy, a mark on the world. Every person is unique in their own way.

I am grateful today that I believe that families can be together forever, that we can see each other again.
And I am grateful for the time I had with Alf.



Today I have chosen a water color called "Family" and a photo of my parents-in-law.

Lost and Found Keys

I take pride in always knowing where my keys are.
In my 29+ years on earth I have very seldom misplaced them. I am often looking for keys, but usually not mine. I look for papers, keys and other things for the handsome man who lives in this house.

My father had a large bucket with keys. You read it correctly--a large bucket. My mother was always helping him look for both keys and glasses. or some reason they were often somewhere else.

I have been looking for my key to our cabin for months. I just could not understand where it was. I always put keys back in place. Or so I thought,

So I made a Facebook event, invited our children with spouses, and also the love of my life.
The invitation was called "Looking for Heidi's cabin keys", in addition to an explanation that read, "I often loan you my keys and cannot find my cabin keys. It is a blue plaid key with a knitted purple owl key ring. Can anyone remember seeing it? I would be so happy to have it back (the date is random--just needed a time for the event)."

I sat back and waited. Surely one of our kids would step forward, apologetically explaining why my key had been in their possession for months and why they had forgotten all about it.

No one answered. Not a pip on the event page.

Until last weekend. We went to the cabin. I brought one of my spare keys. After a wonderful hike in the mountains, fall colors everywhere, a beautiful blue sky above, hot chocolate on thermoses, we returned to the cabin and I emptied out my pockets--and there was my long, lost key.

Embarrassed I wrote the following on the event page, "Found them at the cabin!! Thank you to everyone who turned their house upside down and spent the whole weekend searching for my keys . . . ha ha ha."

I don't expect any of our prescious children even thought about my keys, but embarrassed or not, I am thrilled to have them back.

But now, "likes" from our children keep coming in on this event and I admit
that even I can misplace keys--and other things.

Today's water color is called "Family".

What are Tree Toes?

There's a path that leads from the Duck and Cherry, down through the woods towards the open sea. It winds its way next to the neighboring estate with grazing sheep and horses, and as the landscape opens up at the end of the thicket the ocean can be seen in clear view.

Every time I wander this way, be it during the summer or on crisp snow covered winter's days, I always exclaim how beautiful it is. Arnfinn must have heard it so many times. But there's a certain gratefulness that swells within me. Yesterday as we rode our bicycles with Hector, the Wheaten Terrier, the sheaves of grain on the fields above the beach were golden, waiting for harvest and the time of reaping. The leaves on the trees are slowly changing into analogous shades of yellow, orange, and brown. The days are still warm and sunny. The night are crisp. That I can see this with my eyes, smell the scents, hear the birds, is all a wonder to me. A wonder I am thankful for.

A few days ago Hector, the Wheaten Terrier and I brought two of the munchkins down this way. They wanted to find the sheep and horses. We played games along the way, sang songs, and wondered if we could see tigers, and lions, and bears, and more. Sienna, two years old, claimed she could smell elephants and her brother wondered if we could go see them. He remembered last year how we actually came upon an elephant and some camels in those same woods. A circus had settled down by the school and the large animals rested in the shade next to the path we walk on. That was a suprise! See previous blog entry here for that story.

Exploring nature with little children is amazing. Large roots, easy to trip on, wound back and forth on the path. I explained that they were tree toes, an analogy easily picked up by curious little ones. Scott was amused by the thought that trees had such long toes.

Going back the 3 years old big brother was tired. "I would like to sit in the stroller with Sienna," he said. "She can sit on my lap. I can handle it." He jumped into the stroller, we placed the little sister on his lap, and he gently put his arms around her. No complaints, just happy to sit with her up the last hill.

Why am I witing all this? It portrays the things I treasure--family, home, nature--everyday blessings.

Those are the best.

More than skiing?

Today as I look out the window we have fantastic "Easter weather".
This is actually a genuine way of describing the weather here in the land of the north. Any Norwegian will know what I mean.

I just spent a few days at our cabin Eljarbu with family. Often when I experience the vast space of white snow and the total stillness of nature, I wished everyone in the world could have a day or more like that. People who only see tall buildings and hear sounds of traffic, who are concerned with surviving in a concrete jungel, they all deserve a day in the beauty of the mountains in winter.

It makes folks happy, just being there. I tell you, the occasional cross country skiers you meet on the slopes smile and say hello--and that's not really normal among Norwegians. They are just not that open with strangers.

My problem is embarrassing to admit, but to a person who can easily peel seven potatoes when Arnfinn peels one, I have to say that everyone passes me on the tracks there among snow crystals and trees. I mean, even seventy or eighty year-olds easily outrun me. What's up with that? Poor Arnfinn and Hector, the Wheaten Terrier, take waiting breaks more often than I want to admit, so that I may catch up with them.
Fact: I will never be the next Petter Northug.

There's more to a day in the mountains than skiing. (I can just see Arnfinn lifting his eyebrows, asking surprisingly, "There is?") Just see him and Hector swooshing through the white stuff and imagine me way in the back taking pictures, maybe wiping a tear or two of gratefulness for being allowed to be part of God's nature like that.

The colors of nature are wisely painted to give us comfort, diversity, and excitement. The cobolt blue sky and white snow with cerulean and purplish shadows, the deep green pine trees all add to the calming feeling. Had the sky above been bright orange continuously and the trees signal red, we would have been too keyed up and the serenity would have to be sought elsewhere. Warm and bright colors are saved for the enjoyment of a beautiful sunrise or sunset. It's all part of a wise creation plan for our sanity and the need for variety and beauty.


So, is there more to the mountains than skiing? Yes, to me coming back to the cabin, drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream, eating a nice dinner with family, and playing games with the warm fire roaring in the black oven--that's part of the adventure.


Photos today: a double exposure of Anya and her baby Sienna inside the cabin, with me taking the photo out on the veranda - Arnfinn and Hector skiing - Sienna playing in the cabin with the large teddy bear - Hector eating his meal outside - and an amazing and strange sunrise. It was shaped like the Eiffel Tower. Ever seen anything like that?

A Snowy Winter

Did you know that even the fiercest winter melts by spring?
We are blessed with the bright and pure whiteness of snow this winter. It's beautiful and serene.

Arnfinn gave a wonderful talk about "Thankfulness" at church yesterday.
Being grateful motivates our lives and brings joy to ourselves and those around us.

So why am I grateful for a snowy winter? Here are some reasons:

• Clean paws on Hector, the Wheaten Terrier
• the beauty of the landscape
• our munchkins' joy about sledding and playing in the white stuff
• memories of childhood
• starry nights
• the light evenings reflected by snowy blankets on the ground on evenings when I walk Hector
• Arnfinn's childish thrill about cross country skiing

I will however also be grateful when spring, my favorite season, finally arrives.

Today's water color is a wintry scene painted many years ago and a photo of my boys out skiing.

About a Thank You

An overwhelming feeling of gratefulness is over me today. I know Thanksgiving is just around the corner, but it's more than that.

It's interesting how tough periods in our life and trials of all sorts can even produce a thankful heart when seen in perspective of time and experience. Blessings come in many shapes and colors.

Being grateful is a necessity, something that goes hand in hand with humility and reverence. A person becomes gentler, more understanding, and more charitable as the heart is shaped into a blend of thankfulness for life.

Domo, merci, takk, grazie, danke, thank you. Children are taught to say these words and grown-ups should be wise to use them often and learn to truly mean it.

It is wisdom in saying a prayer to only thank our Maker -- and not ask for anything.
We will find out that there's more to be grateful for than we initially thought.

Maybe I can twist some of the things I am not grateful for today into a blessing in disguise. The discovery of hidden blessings is both valuable and entertaining. A challenge at the moment is how to be grateful for a dog who wants to run out in the front yard and bark. How can I turn that into something good? Patience is also a virtue to strive for, is it not?

Photo: Arnfinn creating a memory to be grateful for at the cabin.

Efharisto!

Efharisto. Thank you, in Greek. It is pronounced "f har eesto" with the accent on the third syllable.

Greek - Romanization - English
Eυχαριστώ. Efharisto. Thank you.

Manners are a must when traveling and a little bit of language knowledge can go a long way.

I just spent a week in Rhodes, Greece - I was working.
Huh? Working on a paradisaical island with sunshine every day, 28 Celsius in the beautiful blue ocean, and Greek food for dinner every day? Yes, indeed. Lucky me!

I thought about our son in law, Michael, throughout the week. He spent two years as a missionary in Greece and speaks the language fluently. It's a beautiful language, soft to listen to. Michael was the only one who received gifts as I returned, as I thought he would appreciate it the most. A bottle of good extra virgin olive oil and some Greek Ion chocolate. He was very excited and I was thrilled that the bottle of olive oil, wrapped in clothes and a zillion plastic bags, made it home without marinating all my belongings in the suitcase.

But now I am so happy to be back at the Duck and Cherry. Home is the best place in the world. I returned to a cheerful Wheaten Terrier and a husband who thinks life is boring when I am not there to talk his ears off. I returned to find Sean and his family had come to spend a few days and I got to play with one year old little Dean. Again, lucky me!

Efharisto! I am grateful for so many good things in life.

Today's water color speaks for itself. Take time to make good memories.

Thirst!

Arnfinn and I visited the Sahara Desert a few years ago. We were dressed in Bedouin outfits and helped up on a desert ship each (read camel) and guided into the miles and miles of sandy hills. The sun came up and gave a golden glow to the landscape and greeted a new day.
I could not help myself, the theatrical Heidi took over, and I lay down on the sand stretching my arm out as if I was thirsting to death.

What a blessing water is - clean, pure water. We are lucky to be able to drink from the tap where we live - and it even tastes great. I have lived places where water must be purchased in bottles or boiled if used for cooking and drinking.
In Okinawa we had water every other day for about a year. I learned to be very grateful for water and treating it with respect became natural. Now I don't take long showers and I don't let the water run as I brush my teeth. I simply don't want to waste the precious gift of water.

I believe we often hunger and thirst for other things than water and food. Many times we don't know what we hunger and thirst for. And even though we may try extreme sports or adrenaline kicking activities, an inner peace and contentment may be the solution to our spiritual thirst.

Photo: When Hector, the Wheaten Terrier, runs, he gets very thirsty and a water faucet by Alby is his goal.

What a day brings

We never know what a day will bring.
Yesterday in our neighborhood three people were accidentally burned and flown off in a rescue helicopter. Police cars, ambulances, and a crowd of concerned neighbors gathered around their house.
They were getting the outside BBQ grill ready and had problems - just preparing for a nice meal outside on a beautiful late summer evening.

Our days are full of surprises. We never know what a day will be like. We can plan and prepare. We can have a schedule and stick to the chores and agenda on our list. Still, everything can happen. Sometimes difficulties and disappointments. Other times wonderful surprises and joyful changes to our rigid structure.
Life is made that way. We would dry up if we had sunshine every day. We also need the rain to grow strong and learn how to dig our roots into the ground so that we may stand strong when winds come and take hold of us.

I was so tired of chores and responsibilities last night that I sat and cried at the dinner table. A good nights sleep has helped and also remembering that there is progress when I get things done.

I believe it's important to find time for the sweet things in life. Everyone is different that way, but I need to put pleasant and uplifting things on my daily agenda in order to function. Yesterday I told Arnfinn that if I had a lot of money I would fly us over to Toronto and watch a Barbara Streisand concert this fall. First he told me that something like that was not important for our salvation, but when he saw the look on my face, he added with the smile that only he can portray: "I said something wrong now, did,t I?" And added that he would gladly go with me if I had had the money to do something like that.
Oh, well. It was a nice thought anyway. I will enjoy my Barbara-CDs for now.

Arnfinn and I pray for our neighbors that they will be alright. There is much to be grateful for in every day.

Today's water color shows children at play on a wonderful summer's day.

A candle for every occasion

My father lit a candle at every meal. He told us it was to show that we were grateful for the food.

I have tried to continue this beautiful tradition. candles are ever present at the Duck and Cherry.

We lived in Okinawa, Japan for three years. During typhoon season we always had to make sure we were stocked with enough food, water - and candles. Preparedness was vital. One typhoon knocked out the electricity. The window shutters kept any light out, also during the day, so candles were a necessity.

I experienced a saleswoman at the door in Mississippi many years ago who asked me: "What are all the candles for? (as if my apartment was covered with them). I answered: "I light them!" I don't know if she thought they were ritual, but remembering to be thankful is ritual enough.

Candles are used as a symbol of our testimonies in the Scriptures as well. We are asked to light our candle and hold it high, not to cover it, but show it forth for everyone to see.

My father had buckets of candles when he passed away many years ago. I still use them. They help me think of a man who was grateful for many things in life.

Today's water color is part of a pictures I painted of little birds happily picking seeds thrown on the snow.