Small Bills and Big Bills

There's this commercial here in Denmark advocating small bills as opposed to big bills. It's a commercial created by a cell phone company that wants you to switch and use their services. I haven't switched yet. I've been thinking that there are several big Bills I would love to be more like: Bill Gates financially, Bill Johnson spiritually, Billy Graham evangelistically, Billy Joel musically. I don't hold a candle to any of those guys. The only bills I get anywhere near are the ones that pile up on my desk at the end of the month. I do a lot of laundry, I work at the office, I shop at Netto. The rain splashes on me from the puddles when I ride my bike on grey days. I sometimes hurt my friends because I forget that I have two ears and one mouth so as to listen twice as much as I speak. I have dustballs under my couch. I don't live a very glamourous life at all.

But this week Dave and I have gone around and interviewed people who have been part of the church we planted ten years ago: A lady who met Jesus because a team from our church did some yard work for her. A man who met us in the town square when a group of us handed out chocolate bars right after we started the church. He only googled us back then, but a seed was sown, and seven years later he joined us and is growing in his walk with God. A newlywed couple, who were just twenty when we started, but dedicated their first years together to being our worship leaders and cell group leaders and are "still going strong" because they put God first in their marriage. A single mom who can barely make ends meet financially, but who finds strength and healing in Jesus and now leads one of our cell groups.

There's this old cliché story of life's tapestry, how we only ever get to see the back of the tapestry here on earth, we only see all the tangled threads and the mishmash of colors that blend in a brown mush. Not until we get to Heaven do we get to see the front of the tapestry, the wonderful picture that God has sown. But this week, interviewing these people whom I rub shoulders with on a day-to-day basis in our church, it's been like boiling it all down. It's like the tapestry has been turned around for a bit. I can see that though we went through some really tough times starting that church, God has been so faithful. He has done great things through our small lives. We gave him our five loaves and two fishes and He worked a miracle and fed a lot of people. We had baskets full. And at the point when we felt empty, God sent in a new pastor who is doing an excellent job taking our church to the next level. In our weakness He has proved himself strong.

There's a verse in Revelation that says that we overcome the enemy by the blood of Jesus and the word of our testimony. Testimonies. Wonderful sparkles of life and glory in the middle of life's dust balls and overdue bills. Christ in us, the Hope of Glory. I have heard testimonies this week. I got to turn the tapestry of my life around for a bit and I am just amazed at what God has done with the little that we have given Him. Following Him surely is a pearl of great price!

Don't get me wrong, I would love to own as much dough as Bill Gates, walk with God as consistently and powerfully as Bill Johnson, sing like Billy Joel and preach like Billy Graham. But God likes small bills too! He spoke through a donkey once even, and He has splashed healing on some lives through our lives. It makes me feel very small. A very small bill. With a very big gratitude.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WF0TcbY_Z8o

The Reluctant Actress

As a child I wanted to become an actress when I grew up. I loved drama. I loved pretending and I would always try to get roles in school plays. I practiced my lines ferociously and overdramatized my parts so that teachers and other onlookers would not fail to recognize my great talent. I would take any chance to ham it up in skits at brownie summer camps and wherever else I could find a stage, albeit a humble grass one in front of a camp fire. The dream lasted till way into high school when I started thinking about bread and butter and found out that there were a lot of unemployed actors in Denmark. Looking in the mirror, as teenagers tend to do a lot, I also gradually came to realize that I did not look quite like the tall blonde knock-outs that made it to the big screen in Denmark. Like with many other girls who dream of becoming singers, ballerinas or stewardesses, reality eventually kicked in. Paying the bills became a factor in the equation, so instead I became a business translator. Not much glamour in that. I have never really regretted the pragmatic ending of my childhood dream, however. Translating skills have come in handy, translating has been something that I could do part-time as we planted our church and I have been able to employ my faith in my skill, often translating international speakers at conferences, proofreading and translating Christian books etc. The Danish Street Bible has gone out to thousands of Danish students through Youth for Christ with my story of coming to believe in Christ. Many other powerful stories of young people finding faith and purpose in life have been through my grammatical scrutiny. I have become a dotter of i's and a crosser of t's. I like playing with words till they get just the right flavor that the original writer intended, and it is easier to stay awake during a sermon in church when you have to translate it! I often translate for the back row of great people from all over the world who have made our church their home away from home. I like to sit there in the back like a tree trunk with chords for headsets going in all directions like tangled branches. Our church has many branches and many "nuts" besides us Danish nuts and I love it. I love to look back in time and notice how God can intertwine everyday life with divine destiny. I chose translation because I had married a Canadian, thus improving my English. Our first pastor being a Canadian made foreigners feel welcome in our church and they have always had someone to translate for them. Now our church has 14 different nationalities represented and the forest in the back row is thickening. But that is a different story. Back to acting. 

Back to acting, yes. Because the wonderful man who has raised kids with me, paid bills with me and put up with me for almost 30 years of marriage has taken up film. First he made a little movie advertising our church, then another one to send to Venezuela before our youth group went there on a trip. Then he connected with another film nerd at Vineyard Norden Summer Camp and they started live streaming the services and taught a video workshop together. Jørgen, who works with Norwegian television, taught Dave all he knows, and at summer camp, whenever Dave gets lost, I can always find him in the film cave under the bleachers surrounded by cables and dimmers, discussing camera angles and lighting with Jørgen. Some middle-aged men acquire blondes, sports cars or motor bikes, but my dearly beloved has cast his love on film. I have been dragged to a Hollywood director seminar in London (during which I got to shop!!!), I have tripped over books on screenwriting and props in our bedroom. Recently Dave made a trailer for some actors putting on a play, last Fall he made a great movie of a baby dedication for a girl who, for a while, was like a daughter to us during the first years of our church plant. And we cannot wait to present our gift to the bride and groom whose wedding we recently attended. The only bride and groom I know in this day and age in Denmark who waited, who did not sleep around, but both waited for God's best and their wedding night. That is such a rare and precious gift to give to each other, and Dave filmed their wedding and has spent hours cutting and editing what I think is his best work ever. Seeing this video touches me reply and I can't wait to show it to the newlyweds when they come to visit in a couple of weeks. All these good projects require lots of practice. I usually happen to be close by, which is also the case here on our Rhodes vacation, so lo and behold, I have become …. an actress!

Now that I am middle-aged and overweight I am forced to walk across streets by exotic castles, wiggle my toes on sandy beaches, repeat things I just said "one more time for the camera" and smile when I am riding an old bike up a steep hill in the rain, wearing the ugliest orange rented cycling helmet on the planet. I am an actress. I am viewed by an audience of 20 loyal Facebook friends as Dave posts his latest edition every day. I am the wife of a very happy man who finds it relaxing to spend hours creating and editing. And I can just glimpse a tongue-in-cheek smile from Heaven, reminding me that there are many ways that a childhood dream can come true. Because, believe it or not, I have become an actress!

Water under the bridge

It's been almost 10 years since we planted our church and these days we are busy planning a big Church Anniversary party. I meant to write handwritten invitations to everyone who has been in our church for more than a couple of months during the 10 years, but I realize I just won't have the time now that our holidays are coming up and we are going abroad. So I am just going to hand-write invitations to the about 10 people that I can't find on Facebook, and on Facebook I have invited over 100 people who have passed through our church during the years. People that I have walked with and talked with and considered my friends to such an extent that it was painful when they left and took new directions. I had wanted to start a church where nobody ever got mad at each other, where conflicts were dealt with in love and turned into family bliss in no time. I am afraid I did not quite succeed. I have failed some people over the years, not been there for them to the extent that they felt I should have. The other day, at a church function, I was giving one couple a ride home and while trying to help them out I accidentally backed into someone else from the church. It was not that that I had not noticed the brand new Audi, all the guys had been out oohing and aahing over it, the owner just got it a couple of days before. But at that fatal moment of backing out I forgot about it and gave it a dent. I always wanted to leave an imprint as a leader, but not that kind of an imprint!

This was one of the new leaders in our church and someone that I did not know very well, so I had knots in my stomach when I went to fess up. Fortunately he was very gracious about it and even brought me vegetables from their greenhouse the next time we met, just to make sure I did not feel too bad. I ate the tomatoes that this couple gave me with a thankful heart. Thankful that they chose to give me tomatoes rather than throw them at me. And a week later the dent was fixed and I transferred the money, a much smaller amount than I had feared.

Looking back, I sure wish all church conflicts could be solved that easily. The love of God is so generous and graceful. But unfortunately we humans are not always quite like our Father, and sometimes we weave tangled webs that strangle and trip each other. I thought about that as I added each Facebook friend to my invitation, wondering if I could have walked an extra mile, said an extra comforting word, turned another cheek. Would it have made a difference, would they have stayed and still be walking with us?

These are treacherous times, times of comings and goings, times of brief interludes rather than lasting relationships. I have to take my shortcomings, my failings and self-doubts to the cross and just bless the people that have walked with me for a while and then chosen other directions. I am so glad that Jesus taught us to pray for the forgiveness of our trespasses and to forgive those who trespass against us. We have to let these things go and not hang on to grudges and grievances, otherwise our hands will cramp up and eventually become unable to give and receive. Jesus promised to build His church and that the gates of hell would not prevail against it. And thanks to God, in spite of our frail beginnings, we now have a strong and healthy church under the great leadership of our new Pastor Hasse. God built His church and the gates of hell have not prevailed. Many have found faith and friendship in our midst, and even if they have since moved on I hope that they have tasted a bit of God's goodness while they have been part of us. Life happens and takes us in different directions. But I am looking forward to celebrating on November 4th, celebrating life, celebrating God's greatness in the midst of our shortcomings, His faithfulness in the midst of our failings. Seeing old friends, rejoicing together, hugging people that have forgiven me for my shortcomings.

Some pastors say that the more they know people the more they like their dog. In my list of friends on line on Facebook there is always a line that I did not put there. Apparently Facebook has made a distinction between my friends that are "above the line" and the ones that are "under the line". I have no idea how the distinction is made, I certainly did not make it. And I pray that my life will be a life without rash judgments, without strange lines dividing people into ins and outs. That my heart would always be open to meet people freely and openly. The bread of life tastes so good and I have been given it so freely, so I am going to keep casting my bread upon the water. And we are all going to break bread together on November 4th, celebrating life and rejoicing in God's faithfulness

This is the week of the year that our town doubles in population because there is a music festival going on. I used go get annoyed at all the trash in the streets and young people sprawling on every patch of grass on the street corners, but now I have my Bed & Breakfast and love this week, which provides my best business all year. All my rooms are booked months in advance and I love welcoming these music enthusiasts to my humble abode. A couple of years ago I started selling showers in my basement. I put a sign out on the main street (our house is hidden away behind it thru a small footpath). "Showers 50 kr., including shampoo, towel, phone charge, internet and nice garden". I put the sign out around noon on days that I was home, and it has proved good business so now I make sure I am home every day that the festival is going on. Throughout the afternoon groups of dusty young people come and settle in my garden and chit chat or snooze while they are waiting for their turn in line for my one shower. The other showers in town cost the same, but they have a time limit. I don't put a time limit on, so sometimes  people have to wait for an hour or more to get in, but they don't mind, because the green grass is so much nicer than the dust at the festival. They say that they love my little oasis, some of them come back year after year and call me mom. And I sell them coffee, popsicles, fruit etc. to pass their time. I also tell local friends that on these days I am home all the time, so I never know which friends might drop in during the day. Yesterday was a great day. Hot and sunny, clear blue skies and a steady stream of dusty kids who later emerged from my humble basement shower exclaiming that they have never felt better, that they have become new persons. I have a tiny toilet by my back door, which is more like a closet in size, but they are so thankful to use one that flushes and keep thanking me for providing this service.

Why do they like it here so much? I think our space might be blessed. Our lives certainly are, and since we inherited this old house from my uncle 16 years ago we have filled it with prayer, community and friendships. People who stay at our Bed & Breakfast mention the "good aura" of our home, and now with the annual influx of young people who claim to love our little oasis I think of it again: The Lord has really blessed our little patch, and when people drop by they can sense it.

Yesterday good old Swedish friends popped by for lunch. They are a missionary couple who target festivals to share the love of God and hand out Street Bibles. I have been working with them many years ago on the first Street Bible in Denmark and we just did a revision. I translate and proofread, which is how I make a living, but I decided that I would rather be paid in Bibles than in cash this time. So they came by with some boxes fresh from print, it was so great to see them after eight years, and we had lunch and great fellowship in the garden surrounded by my shower guests. They opened the first box and we started giving Bibles away to those who would take one. And many would. They sat and read them while waiting for their showers and most of them took them along when they left. Later after the Swedes left, Sussie came by for coffee. She is a new believer whom I led to the Lord three years ago and she kept encouraging the kids to take one. "This book can change your life. I am a new Christian and it has changed mine!". So they listened to her story, drank my coffee, took their showers. For an hour or more they had sat in my quiet garden and soaked up the peace, felt the green grass on their toes and liked it. They had been in our space and sensed that it was good.

My story is one of the life stories in the colorful first part of the Street Bible. It describes how as a teenager I felt so wrong, so out of place in this world, so unloved. My parents were divorcing and I had no purpose, no destiny. Then I found faith, I found the greatest love one could ever dream of and the landscape of my life started to change. The last 38 years God has been my best friend and molded me, taught me how to live, blessed me with a great family and a wonderful church full of precious friends.

Perhaps when people sit here for a while they can sense it. The blessing, the peace, the refreshing. Dave's grandmother was a homesteader on a small island in Canada. She cleared some bush and planted a garden that fed her and many others. I still remember the feasts she provided early in our marriage, I remember her bending over weeding her huge garden even after she had turned 80. She used to say "I wish everyone could eat as well as we do". I echo that now, 25 years later. I have tasted and I have seen that God is good. My life is a blessed garden. And when people come here and sit a while they are prone to read a bit in that book. Be refreshed, have their appetite whetted. And I can tell them that they can indeed eat as well as I do.

Blind old Isaac could not see his son but he said that he smelled like a field that the Lord had blessed. He could smell something good. It is my prayer that when my dusty friends come and sit in my garden and read my story and the other stories in the Street Bible they would smell something good. And meet the Great Refresher. And start eating as well as I do.

I am sticking it out, still at the gym, and the pounds are still coming off, albeit a bit slower than at first. I love being able to ride up hills in a higher gear and not being out of breath after a few flights of stairs. My husband pokes my ribs and is happier than the witch was when Hansel stuck his arm out thru the cage in the fairytale. There is less and less of me to cook a stew on! I have always upped my nose at people who went to the gym all the time and had no time for anything else, but I am experiencing that taking the time to exercise actually gives me energy so that I get more accomplished. My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit and even if it is a 50-year-old construction I am not going to let it turn into a ruin. The exercise and diet change has worked! I have put away some clothes that were saggy and found some old clothes under the bed that I haven't been able to fit into for a while. Physical exercise works! You can actually change things with it! The apostle Paul knows it too. He says to Timothy (who perhaps was a fitness freak?!) that physical exercise is pretty good, but spiritual exercise is even better. It changes you on the inside! Just like you can break old habit patterns and shape new ones in a physical way you can take practical steps to get closer to God. Lately I have been conscious of what has gotten into my mouth. Spiritually, we need to watch what goes into our eyes and our ears. We need to fix our minds on that which is good, wholesome, truthful ..... it will make a difference in our spiritual well being. Paul puts it this way: "We'd better get on with it. Strip down, start running and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we are in. Study how he did it, because he never lost sight of where he was headed: That exhilarating finish with God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over it again and again". That's how the Message Bible puts it. I love it. And I aim to live it.

I have been getting really fat lately. I haven't minded so much because I have a wonderful God who loves me anyway and a sweet husband who does the same, but because I had turned fifty I had to go see the Doctor for a regular check-up like my car does after every few thousand miles. Well, The Doctor looked at me sternly, told me that I was bordering on being not just overweight but obese and that my blood pressure showed it. She prescribed diet change and exercise and sent me off into the frosty morning. It was January 2 so it was the time for New Years resolutions anyway. Off I went, determined to get into shape. Fitness.dk is the local gym that has a jacuzzi and a steam cabin and I decided to join that one because I knew I wouldn't last five minutes on a cross trainer unless there was some kind of reward system at the end. I turbo-charged my membership by joining their fat team and started boxing, spinning and exposing myself to other types of torture. Going to the gym for the first time was a really scary thing. I have never been a sporty type and have had ideas of self-absorbed model types in the latest exercise gear filling a gym, so I just didn't think I would fit in. So many negative thoughts flooded my mind as I approached the place on that first fat beating evening. Logically I tried to convince myself that the others probably weren't skinny as rails if they were joining the fat team, but my mind was just flooded with thoughts that almost paralyzed my feet and prevented me from entering: "You will never figure it out. In aerobics you will probably stick out your left arm while everyone else is sticking out their right arm and you will look so stupid". "Everyone else probably has the latest gym fashion and you just have some old sweat pants". "You don't even have a real water bottle, just an old coke bottle!" ... it required all my strength to walk past the wall of negative thoughts and get my butt in there. But I did it. And now, a month later I am 12 lbs. lighter. I have had a taste of spinning, calestenics, boxing and have mastered the digital maze of cross trainers and step machines which know all about me, at least they know what my heart rate should be at 50 years and xx lbs. (Sorry, faithful readers, I love to be transparent with you, but my multitude of pounds mean that I am not quite THAT transparent). Every spare moment I have I head out to the gym for an hour of exercise and I love the energy it gives me. I can actually do something about my weight, I don't have to be fat forever. It amazes me, however, to see how the whole fatness industry is so narcisistic. You can ride a bike wearing a pulse belt for an hour and afterwards receive an e-mail telling you how you performed compared to last time. The cross trainer can tell you your target heart rate and advise you to slow down if you are moving too fast for your own good. I just stare at that blinking heart and do as I am told. And the pounds are coming off. I can master my body. Physical exercise is a whole new world to me and I am loving it. My husband has promised me a trip to Paris when I have lost 20 lbs and I can just see the contours of the Eiffel Tower in the horizon. Physical exercise is pretty good, the Apostle Paul says. I must agree with him. And in my next blog I will muse about spiritual exercise, which Paul also has an opinion about.