The perfect storm - or what sucks about international travel

So I just spent an exciting 4 days at the global health mission conference in Kentucky where I got to meet and share ideas and projects for improving world health with over 3000 people from all over the globe. It was amazing. It's still sinking in. Lots more on that later...

But first I feel as if I must document my travel escapades over the past day (days? I think I'm well past 24 hours at this point). The events were a chain of unreal scenarios, one after another...a perfect storm. I kept waiting for a candid camera guy to pop out laughing. So the need to have this day in writing makes it actually real. All I can say is by God's grace, I am back in Norway having not plummeted to the earth in a fiery plane crash or been detained in some dark damp German prison cell or have been guilty of murdering one or more of the characters I have dealt with.

So here's the long version, read and enjoy. It's funny now that it's over.

My day started off normally packing my suitcases and heading to the Louisville airport. I pulled in to return my rental car where I was told that the car I had been driving all week was not registered to hertz. They couldn't find it in the system. "Where did you get?" "Ummm, here. You (being the exact same employee) gave me the key." Crisis averted, they found the car and I escaped my grand theft auto charge.

Then I headed through the security screening where they flagged my bag because they saw a large bottle of liquid in it. After a full bag search, they realized the offender was bags of Reese's pieces. Candy smuggling? Guilty.

Next, while boarding the plane the scanner beeped and spit me out a new boarding card. Why? "Oh, they renumbered the seats in this aircraft." I was told. From 19A to 4C. Hmmmm, seems like renumbering wouldn't really go that way but whatever. Except that seat 4C didn't even actually exist so I'm left standing in the isle. I got to sit next to the flight attendant in the little jump seat since the flight was fully booked. Super comfy, by the way, but it was only an hour flight so I smiled on.

Things seemed back on track in Chicago and we boarded and took off towards Frankfurt without incident. Until about 2 hours in, the captain came on and announced we had an auxiliary power failure that would force us to fly at a lower altitude and we couldn't safely cross the Atlanta. We were diverted back to Chicago. Seriously? So we turned around, dumped jet fuel for 10 minutes to lose enough weight to land (how good is that for the environment below us?), and safely landed back in Chicago. We were ushered to another plane and left again about an hour later. Of course, I had missed my connection out of Frankfurt and had to wake Micah up in the middle of night to tell him but we were assured that agents in Frankfurt would have everyone taken care of.

Well, the ticket I was given in Frankfurt was to wait 24 hours and take the same flight I missed tomorrow. Umm, no. After arguing and maybe some hysterical crying on my part, they put me on another airline to leave an hour later. Yay! Best outcome considering the situation.

Until I went through security, where they wanted to see not only my passport but my Norwegian visa. Apparently, that confused the guy or maybe he was just angry but he started asking why I had a visa, why was I in the states, why didn't I speak Norwegian. My answers, and honestly probably my unenthusiastic attitude at this point, did not appease him so he felt it necessary to call a supervisor who led me to a small cubicle and asked tons more irrelevant questions for about 30 minutes. Who is the king of Norway? How did you get a Norwegian drivers license? Does Norway allow duel citizenship and if so, have I applied? Are my children USA or Norwegian residents? Do I pay taxes in USA or Norway? What Norwegian political party do I belong to and have I contributed any money to their cause? Aaaaggghhh! Finally I think he just got tired of me not knowing the answers to most of the questions and he let me go. (The king is king Harold, by the way. Score 1 for me)
But by this time I had missed my flight so had to rebooked yet again.

So it's over, right? Almost but the best is last.

So I finally board the last plane, stuck in a middle seat of course between a sweet older lady who only speaks German and an uptight businessman. He was the guy who doesn't have to follow the rules, you know? No first class on this tiny flight? He was obviously put out. He hung his suit jacket over my seat and spread out as much as he could while I snuggled into the old German lady. He complained about having to turn off his laptop, raise his seat back, not getting a meal, you name it. Really, he huffed and puffed for the hour and a half. Finally, as we are about to land, he and the flight attendant have it out over having to turn off his computer. She takes it out of his hands and tells him he can have it back when we land (like she was speaking to a child). He then decides to get up to go to the bathroom. I mean, landing gear is out, flight attendants are buckled in themselves. She forcefully tells him he cannot go and must sit down. He proceeds-no joke-to defiantly pull down his suit pants and pee in the isle. Unbelievable. That led to several male passengers restraining him while we got to sit on the plane even longer waiting for police to come arrest him.

Really. You can't make this stuff up.

At last, I am sitting in a taxi on the way to my house to cuddle with my boys. I couldn't possibly stand any more public transportation today so I skipped the train.

I guess it's been memorable and I guess it could have all been a lot worse but I am ecstatic that this day is O.V.E.R.

Nine eleven

This isn't typical of my posts but it's where my heart is today...

Everyone of our generation remembers where they were September 11,2001. It was a defining moment, a pivotal point in our country's history.

I was in El Paso on a hospice rotation in medical school. I spent the day in my short white coat driving in the hot dust of El Paso and across the border in Juarez to make home visits to patients in their last months. Most didn't have televisions but in the houses of those who did, I would try to catch glances and translate from the Spanish stations what was happening. I don't think I really understood the extent of the crisis in those moments, which was probably for the best considering I had patients to care for. I remember getting home, needing to hear Micah and my parents' voices from Houston. I wanted to know they were ok and I wasn't as alone as I felt 8 hours away. I remember watching the news for hours on end with my neighbor, horrified at the scenes and crying for those all of involved. I remember heading to the airport 4 days later to fly home for the weekend, beyond terrified to get on a plane. 

Devastating. Horrific. Unthinkable. The attacks of 9/11 were all of those things and more. People, children, families, cities were forever changed. Many have had to live with grief and heartache everyday since. We will always remember.

 The US sadly felt a heavy impact on 9/11 in a way we never had before. Our safety was on the line. Our confidence was shattered. Our bubble burst. The unimaginable happened on live television and played out in front of our eyes. We were flung into a new understanding of death and sadness on our doorstep.

In our blessed country, it can be  easy for us to forget that war, mass casualty and terrorism are a part of our world. Others don't always have the same luxury. There are people all over the world who have dealt with tragedy, some who are forced to live it almost daily. 

Over 600 were killed in political violence just last month in Egypt. Over the past few days, close to 50 have died in Northern India religious riots, with fighting continuing. In Syria, sources report that 100,000+ have died since July in ongoing civil wars. Even here in peaceful Norway, 87, mostly youth, were killed in 2011 terrorist attacks not 5 miles from where we live. 

I don't argue that one incident is worse than the other. I don't claim to call any of these equivalent to 9/11. I don't all at mean to take away from its gravity. 

What I point out is that it's easiest to focus on our differences. 

As a physician, I sometimes tend to rationalize a patient's condition to avoid an emotionally connection. I couldn't get lung cancer like him because I don't smoke. I would never lose a limb to diabetes like her because I eat well and run everyday. I would have started antibiotics much earlier than him and not ended up with an infection that bad. I'm different. I'm not like them. That couldn't happen to me. 

The same is true in our general thinking. Our understanding of cultures and lifestyles different from our own is limited. We can rationalize violence elsewhere and disconnect ourselves from those tragedies because we aren't like them.

But really, we aren't all that different. We are all people. We have unique struggles and worries. Our experiences are not the same. But we are all children of God. No one deserves to suffer. No one should have to grieve alone, regardless of country or race or political affiliation or religion. 

So today, on this important day, along with remembering the families, the first responders, and all the people effected from 9/11, I would hope we would take some time to consider we are not alone. Give some thought to those struggling with us. Remember the Africans, the Egyptians, the Indians that are living grief in their own way as well. It doesn't matter your political take on UN action or who is right or wrong or where Syria is on a map, all that matters is that they are human. It's what connects us all. 

Summer reflection

So school is back in swing and I've finally stolen some time to sit and reflect on the past few months. 

Summer was a whirlwind!

It started with a trip to Copenhagen. We took an overnight cruise on what we found out later is known as a party boat (and boy, did it live up to its name ...think south Padre at spring break in a confined space). It was actually a picturesque trip down the fjord to Denmark. Copenhagen is a canal city filled with house boats, amazing old world architecture and bicyclers dominating the roads.

Shortly after, the boys and I headed back to the states for 3 weeks. Micah joined us for the second half. We had a blast spending time with family and friends. They boys swam all day and ran the cul de sac with their sorely missed friends. We also, of course, did lots of shopping and stocking up on clothes and shoes, taking full advantage of "cheap" American prices. That, and my apocalyptic supply of US toiletries we brought initally was dwindling (seriously, I refuse to change my Secret
deodorant for a foreign brand at this point in my life).

From Houston, we headed back (with Hidden Valley Ranch packets stuffed in every crevice in the suitcases) to Norway via Amsterdam where we spent a week. What an exciting city! We love people watching and there is possibly no better place in the world to enjoy our pastime. Micah and I spent our jet lagged evenings watching all kinds of antics from our canal hotel balcony. We visited museums, rode down canals, ate amazing food. Unfortunately, we ended our last day with a mishap at the hotel breakfast when Barrett was burned with a pot of hot tea. It wasn't the best part of our
travels but thankfully he is fully recovered.

Finally, the week before school started we drove to Sweden where we spent a long weekend camping on the Baltic Sea coast. We had beautiful weather and enjoyed some amazing scenery and seal watching  as we explored the Koster Islands,  a Swedish national park.

Whew!

It was a busy eight weeks but filled with family days of laughing (and whining),  lots of logged airplane hours, and great memories. There were moments of happiness watching the boys pick up

right where they left off with their friends, moments of fatigue as I navigated the 14 hour trip to Houston with the 3 of them by myself,  moments of  fear in the back of an ambulance in a foreign
country after Barrett was hurt, and moments of awe taking in amazing Van Gogh works of art. It was awesome and exhausting and comforting all at the same time.

And now...

I'm glad to be back settled in Norway. I surprised myself.

I tried to prepare myself emotionally to go home. Micah and I actually talked a lot about how we would all handle "leaving again". I anticipated the same feelings of apprehension, sadness, frustration. But they never came. I never felt the bad stuff.

Don't misunderstand, I definitely was thrilled to be back in Texas. 

There was a day spent with my closest friends at the spa giggling and relaxing. There was a weekend with my oldest and dearest friend in Austin catching up on snuggle time with my god daughter. There was church time of completely losing myself in God. There was Mexican food.  It was pretty awesome. I enjoyed every minute. 

But I didn't countdown the days as I am known to do. I didn't wallow while packing. I didn't dread the drive to the airport. I waited, bracing myself for the flood of sadness. Instead all I felt was comfort - it felt like we were going home. In fact, Owen kept laughing telling us "we are leaving home to go

home!" Exactly!

Dare I say, this place is growing on me?

I hadn't realized how much I have changed until I was back in my old environment. It was little

things-conversations with people, trips to the grocery store, tv-it felt kind of foreign at times. It's all the same, but my perspective, my priorities are different.

 The thing is, I figured out that I am happy with my simple, beautiful life. There is such peace for me in not rushing, in not being a slave to my phone for work, in our family time. Gone are the feelings of guilt and worry and stress. I almost don't know what to do without them. 

This past weekend we celebrated Owen's birthday. At one point, as I was surrounded by a houseful of families we call friends here that I love, it hit me. I really like it in Norway. I really like our experiences and eye opening adventures and cozy family. I've made some true friends and I missed them over the summer. 

It really feels like home.  

I am content. 

It took me by surprise. I tried hard to dig in my heels and pull myself under. I got weighed down by the uphill climb and kept back at the starting line.  

Now, I can't say if I'm at the top. I have no idea where I am actually. I don't know where God is taking me. 

But I'm happy and  I am enjoying the view from where I am. 

Saying goodbye stinks

Tyler: "saying goodbye stinks."

I thought we were done with the hard goodbyes. Moving away from family and friends, last days, ending a chapter-we got through all of that already, right?

Except not.

Such is the life of an expat family at an international school. The population is transient-families moving on, leaving Norway, saying goodbye.

And it does stink.

Seriously.

Some  of the kids leaving are those that stepped up to welcome the boys in their first days here. They made them feel at home, like all of this chaos was going to be okay. They've accepted them and laughed and played and given them happiness. I'm a little attached (and grateful) to them myself. 

Saying goodbye is a life skill-one I've realized this week that I haven't really taught my boys. We teach them to say "please" and "thank you" and "I'm sorry" but not "goodbye." 

 I think it's because I don't like it myself. I like to wish away change, downplay the transitions, think of moving like "an extended vacation." There's no finality in that. There are no last words. But realistically, the boys are having to say goodbye to some friends that they probably won't ever see again. I have struggled to find the words to comfort them and hurt to see them sad. 

What I keep finding myself saying is this--

How blessed are you to have made such a good friend that you are sad to see him go. It was only a few months ago that you were scared and worried about fitting in. And now...what a good problem to have.  How lucky to have crossed paths with such special friends. Be grateful for your time together and what you learned from them. 

I remind them that they aren't the new kids anymore. New families will be moving in. Those kids will feel scared and overwhelmed. They won't know anybody or have any friends. The boys have the chance to treat the new additions with kindness and acceptance as they were treated. Make them feel welcome and happy. What an opportunity!

I don't know if they get it or if it helps. They're swimming in sadness right now. They need to be sad. They need to figure out how to deal with their emotions themselves. 

I can't do it for them.

I can only love them and encourage them. 

I can only listen and agree when they tell me in tears that saying goodbye stinks. 

Missing the little things

I had a conversation with a new-to-Norway family last weekend. In a time when I finally am starting to feel settled, it brought back a flood of emotions I went through those first few weeks. Most things I can proudly say I've figured out, other things I have found I love, and some things I have learned to just live with. I knew I would miss the big things-family, friends, our house, my job. What's funny is all the little things I took for granted. It never would have occurred to me that I would miss.....

1. Drive thrus- 

Oh the ease of McDonald's. Owen is asleep in the backseat, the boys don't have shoes on, it's raining, and I'm running late? No problem! No need to get out of the car for a quick meal or shot of coffee. Most of time here its just not worth the effort to find parking, skate in through the ice, and wait in line while you worry that maybe you didn't pay for enough parking time (see #4). So we end up skipping Mcdonalds. Is it healthier? Yes. Is it inconvenient? Absolutely.

2. Church- 

So I actually did know I would miss this one. How could I not? My favorite place in Houston, genuine people, friends that I've experienced life changing moments with. But my homesickness for Community of Faith is so prevalent that I just had to list it here. I won't rant about this one anymore here, but it's definitely what I miss the most. No question.

3. Flip flops-

 Ok I get it. Norwegians love the snow. If I hear "there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing" one more time I'm going to scream. I just want to run to my car or check the mail or pick the boys up and slip on one of my 100 pairs of flip flops. But alas, snow and rain boots have become my go-to option. Maybe it's time to downsize the open-toe collection...

4. Free parking-

I'm used to paying for parking at a ball game or a valet but at the grocery store? the gym? the neighborhood pizza place? Ridiculous! Add that to the stress of having to estimate how long your activity/errand will take so you pay for enough time. I sometimes find myself rushing to the car and calling to the loitering parking attendant that I still have 2 minutes on my ticket and I'm here! I've gotten behind once --- by less than 5 minutes --- and had to pay 760kroner ($130). 

5. Report cards- 

Don't get me wrong, I really love the boys' school and the fact that they are able to focus on learning and not busywork and tests. But as a parent, I have little to absolutely no idea how well they are doing in school. Who knew I relied on the performance based praise of my children's frequent report cards. I'm accepting that I have to focus on the fact that they are happy and excited about school and what they are learning. New concept!

6. Barnes &Noble-

I miss bookstores. Real life English bookstores. Stores here have maybe a shelf of English titles (or there is always amazon.) But nothing replaces browsing with a coffee in a quiet store while the boys play with Thomas the Train and find new reading.

7. Red lights-

Round-abouts are not my favorite. I've gotten pretty good since they are at every intersection, but I miss sitting at a red light and following calm traffic direction changes. There are rules of driving for the roundabouts but honestly people seem to just do whatever they want. It's a free-for-all, like a frogger game, jump in and go!

8. Nail salons- 

A favorite relaxation for me. I love to zone out with a bad year old celebrity magazine for an hour and walk away with pretty feet (see flip flops above). Nail salons are far and few between here (I don't actually know where any are). Even if there was one close, I'm sure I couldn't afford the $100+ cost.

9. Texas friendliness- 

Let me start by saying that Norwegians are very nice people. It has nothing to do with goodness, but the concept of smiling when you pass someone or holding a door open or even waiting in a line is lost here. When I make eye contact and say hi, people look at me like I'm crazy, or drunk, or just American. One old lady even yelled something at me in Norwegian when I helped her hold the door as she went through with her walker. Maybe I was trying to push her or steal something from her or take away her independence? No idea. 

10. Target-

Let's just close our eyes for a minute and enjoy the thought of the bright red doors, the dollar spot that has bins of items I didn't even know I needed, the stacks of perfectly arranged tshirts for $5 each in the right size. Oh, and we are out of milk? No problem. I'll just pick that up too. Sigh...oh, Target, my heart will always belong to you...

What I take from all of this is : 

Enjoy where you are, 

what's in front of you 

because the simple silly things are meaningful too. 

You may find yourself missing tomorrow something you roll your eyes at today. 

So next time you are frustrated at the busy Target parking lot or the long Starbucks drive through line or the never ending red light, take a minute and enjoy the luxury. Some of us would kill for a grande light white chocolate mocha right about now. 

My favorite day

Today was my most favorite day in Norway to date. I wanted to share...

This morning we had an impromptu breakfast outside with our Norwegian neighbors. We ate waffles with jam while the kids explored in the woods and jumped on the trampoline. It's really amazing how quickly things turned from bare branches and icey winter to bright green and beautiful blooming flowers. 

Then we rode our bicycles to a little island near us. The weather was sunny and warm-a very welcome change.

We spent the day at the beach. The big boys played on the rocks in the water. They collected oysters and clams and caught crabs. They scrambled in and out of the cold water and filled buckets with their finds.  They would deliver the full buckets to us and then sprint back out for more. Owen spent his day digging  in the sand and building "homes" for all the displaced creatures. 

I love watching them work together. I spend so much time refereeing battles, I relish the moments that they realize they actually like each other.

We were surrounded by Norwegians all doing the same thing and enjoying the day. Grilling, playing volleyball, building castles, watching the boats and cruise ships go by. People in the water kayaking, sailing, and a few brave swimmers.

This all sounds simple and ordinary, but that's the point.

It felt normal. It felt peaceful. It felt like home.

I think today is the first time I can say that. 

I'm a thinker. An analyzer. That's no secret. I am constantly trying to put my thoughts into perspective and find the deeper meaning. I don't often take things at face value. I journal a lot about finding my place here in this country and in the world. What is the purpose, God's plan? 

Those things are definitely important to me,  but I am the first to admit I can get lost in my own thoughts. I can overthink while life passes by. 

I lived the day today. I was a part of every sound, smell, sight. I felt the happiness of being with my sweet boys, I laughed with my husband, I laid in the sand and talked about what shapes the clouds were making. 

I let myself enjoy without any other thoughts or plans. God has made an amazing world and I don't often enough stop and just indulge in the miracle that is today. 

Today was my favorite day. 

Love or hate

We had a BBQ with some fellow American families last 

weekend. It was a fun time to share our experiences here, give each other advice, and commiserate....just a little. I'm not crazy...or alone!

You see, although I am absolutely totally loving living abroad and the adventure that comes with it, I'm not completely sold on Norway itself. (In Aggie terms, I would call myself a 2percenter). Much to the dismay of Micah, who is morphing into some kind of Bear Grylls outdoor freak, I'm not in love (yet). Micah loves can't get enough of the skiing, fishing, trail running, "granola" lifestyle. And while I definitely enjoy the beautiful landscape and sports, I get (just a bit) frustrated with some cultural aspects. I'm trying to stay open minded and reserving my opinion, but some days are tough.

Norwegian people "work to live". Sounds good in theory, right? Think some more....

That means that if (hypothetically) someone is repairing water damage in the garage apartment on your property, they will come to work for only 3 hours at a time, disappear for days on end, and take more smoke breaks than I thought humanly possible. Above repairs took 4 months to complete--true story! 

They have recently shut down our closest train station to do some work....through December of 2014! This is a small station and major form of transportation. What takes 20 months to complete? As I've asked around with neighbors nobody knows or has made any effort to find out. It's just closed.

There are still a lot of Mom-and-pop shops here. I drove and paid to park (as is the norm) and then walked with Owen (not the easiest of tasks) to one of my favorites the other day only to find that there was a hand written sign on the door saying "closed early". Not uncommon. People close their stores for days or months (supposedly in July) when it's not convenient to work. How does that make business sense? 

 

When I talked to the our property management company to ask some questions about when they would do some yard work, I was told they would start in May. Ummmm, yep, it's been May for 2 weeks now.  

When a grocery store clerk unexpectedly closed her line because her shift was over, the people who had been waiting  simply quietly moved to the back of another already long line. No complaints, no frustration.

Are you understanding  my challenge? I am, as most of us are, used to high speed, competitive, ambitious expectations. There is a culture of simplicity and generalized acceptance that goes against my grain. I just don't know if I have it in me. There is no rule explanation, no exceptions, no "let's figure something out together".  It just is what it is. 

There are times that 

I 

just 

want 

to 

scream

 (and maybe a few that I have).

But in my better moments I realize there is something to learn and be gained here.

Micah's schedule is really nice. Lots

Of holiday days, much shorter work days, less after hours work.  That means more time at home with the family.

There is much less emphasis on measurement standards for the boys. Worries about grades and standardized tests, ultra-competitive sports parents, concerns about what brand shoes we own are essentially non existent.

No comparing, no judgement.

We aren't over-stretched. I'm not always running late or multitasking in my head. I'm not running any races. I'm enjoying the day. 

Life is simpler. Life is slower. Our defenses are down.  We have family time to laugh (and argue--being honest), to spend outside, to focus on what really matters. 

Funny, the same things I hate are the things I love.

Us vs them

I love when my boys make me think. On a regular basis, they ask a question or model my behavior or call me out in a way that makes me reflect and truly evaluate myself. What better accountability to my beliefs and values?

Today was a tough one that's got me thinking.

The scene-

The church we are attending in Norway is an international Baptist church. It is a small group that meets in a warehouse office building amidst car dealerships, but the message is in English and the pastor is big hearted.  We share God with a diverse group of people. There is a large proportion of the congregation that is Russian. In fact, the service is translated into Russian for those whose English isn't sufficient.  The boys have several school friends there and have made other friends. Ty has become good friends with one of the Russian boys.

The question-

We are leaving church today and Ty is particularly quiet. When I ask him what's going on he responds "Is Vlad going to be a bad guy when he grows up?" 

Whoa

Like most of the world, we have been following the news in Boston. He has unavoidably overheard the media and our conversations at home that have identified the bombers as brothers from Russia. And now he's worried about his best church friend.

The evaluation-

I can't blame him. I don't mean I question the "goodness" of  Vlad's family, but it must be incredibly confusing for a 7 year old.

On one hand we (being the bigger we of all /most parents) want to teach our kids to love and accept but yet they see us condemn, hate, and go to war with other countries. We want to teach them not to judge yet they see us pointing fingers at others that don't meet our standards. We teach them not to bully yet there are whole facebook pages that are shared making fun of those with different political views. We want to teach them to be respectful yet are often anything but. We want to teach them to be open minded yet we are close minded creatures of habit. 

How confusing. How is he supposed to love in a world that often emphasizes  hate and perpetuates stereotypes?

It's a double standard. We want (and expect) all these things for our children yet we model the "us vs them" mentality. 

We are good, they are bad. We are right, they are wrong. We are intelligent and rational decision makers, they are unstable and unpredictable.

We judge. 

Admittedly, my thoughts here are judgmental. In effect, I am judging the judgers. I don't make any excuses for it, I only seek to point out the reality. We are all guilty.

The thing is, we are comfort creatures. We know ourselves, our expectations, our actions. THEY are scary, different, foreign. 

The perspective-

But we are really aren't that different, are we? We are all God's children.

Focusing on generalizations, making political jokes at the expense of someone else's dignity, criticizing a person or situation we aren't familiar with ourselves teaches children to close themselves off with only like minded groups. There is no learning or growth without stepping out.

What we have to focus on teaching our children is to love-to love themselves, love God, and love God's world. We have teach by example and by experience. We have to look for opportunities to show our kids how to love when it's hardest and most difficult. And we have to be honest with them about the difficulty. We have to teach them to rely on God for that love. 

So we had a long talk with Tyler about how the bad guys in Boston happened to be Russian but that doesn't at all mean that Russian people are bad. We should take time to know each person for who they are and not where they came from or what they support. Vlad is not a bad guy. He is a friend. And we are lucky to have the opportunity to know him. We are blessed to love him as God first has loved us.

"You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty." Mahatma Gandhi

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? “You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye." 

Matthew 7:3-5

3 months in the tundra

Tundra: biome describing the Arctic area of Europe, Asia and North America where the ground is permanently frozen. 

That's where I live. 

Ok, to be fair, the tundra is actually only north of the Arctic Circle in northern Norway, Oslo is below it, so I don't exactly live IN the tundra specifically but my numb fingers and snow boots might say it's close enough.

So now we've survived here three months.  It's crazy to look back and see how much has happened in such a short time-what a whirlwind! 

I've seen more, cried more, learned more, held onto my boys more, been in awe more, been absolutely clueless more, been so proud more these past 90 days than ever before. Some experiences I knew to prepare for, others have hit me completely unexpectedly.  I've learned some lessons that, despite my lowest of the low moments, I would never change.  

My boys are strong. They are resilient and well adjusted. While I've worried and planned, they have just been little boys doing what little boys do. I absolutely love moments like watching Barrett play soccer with local boys on his team -communicating through high fives and cheers, Owen sledding over and over and laughing in the snow, Tyler picking up British English at school-saying things like "rubbish" and "just a bit" and studying spelling words like "fortnight" and "centre". Intrigued with history from WWII and naming capitals of countries I didn't even know existed, they are soaking up the world in unmatchable ways. They are loving people in a Godly way, not judging their differences, but learning who they are. 

I am a proud proud mama.

My marriage is strong. Micah and I have been through hard times in the past but these months have strengthened my love and faith in him. He has stepped up to love and support me as I've wobbled on shaky ground.   New job in a new world with new people in a new language, never ending and (occasionally) nonsensical logistics, wife and kids adjusting to change after change after change-he is holding it together (more than I can say for myself some days). Plus we've laughed----a lot---sometimes at ourselves, sometimes at the chaos, and sometimes in the middle of a breakdown. I love him. I love us. 

I'm a proud proud wife. 

 I am strong. That sounds somewhat egotistical even as I write it but it's something I have never really let myself feel before. I have come a long  long way from my first days of shock and fear. It hasn't been easy but I'm not overwhelmed every second now. I have found a routine. I can go to the grocery store and get gas and wash my car. I have made friends. I can understand most signs and pleasantries. I even got my first parking ticket! I am relaxing, adjusting, and trusting God. Most significantly, I am learning to accept myself as I am, as God sees me. My resume-education, experience, who I work with-doesn't matter. I am ME-weaknesses, bad days, uncertainties about the future-and all. I am enough for my family. I am enough for God. I am enough. 

I am a proud proud child of God.

So there it is. My reflection of this blur. And what is crazy is that I am still at base camp. My mountain still lies ahead. I've proved myself in this adrenaline driven beginning but I  have so far to go and so much more ground to cover. Take a breath. Say a prayer. Find confidence. 

I can do hard things. 

Crazy ways

Yesterday I had a smallish breakdown at the post office--no details needed by it was not my proudest moment. I left frustrated and angry. As the day went on (I let) those darks feelings grow. I cried, I complained, I wallowed in my own self pity. 

Now this wasn't all about the post office, mind you, but about my feelings and homesickness in general. 

Overall things are improving. I have a daily routine, new friends, little favorites. But you know when you have that small inkling of negativity that you just go wild and snowball? By the time I was ready to go to bed last night I was broken and defeated. 

I tossed and turned all night and this morning I woke up deciding I had to take back my peace. I refuse to let a little step backwards undo all of the forward progress and confidence that I'm building. I refuse to be bitter and resentful over something so insignificant.

So off we went back to the post office first thing today, even before I took the boys to school. I stepped up smiling to the same lady that caused me grief the day before and handed her my paperwork and money. I told her "I want to apologize for our misunderstanding yesterday. I am new here and learning and sometimes I get frustrated. I hope I have everything you need today." She smiling back and thanked me and apologized for not being more helpful.

and then the crazy part started...

 A man behind me stepped up and said "I overheard you. Are you having trouble with your Norwegian? Can I help?" It started a conversation and it turned out we have a mutual acquaintance through the church here. The post lady interrupted and asked if I really went to church (I told you it's not common.) " What do you do there? Why do you go? I want to learn about Christianity but I don't know how." 

We talked for a few more minutes and answered some things and told her some of the things God has shown me in my life (yes, this is all happening at the post office counter!) The man invited her to a Norwegian church and she was so excited!

God works in crazy crazy ways. It's not always the big kneeling moments in church or the quiet prayerful times, sometimes He speaks to you in the post office. "You are here for a purpose. Your helplessness and fear and anger lead to extraordinary moments if you will just swallow your pride, get over yourself and follow Me."

I'm not always obedient but today I was and God showed me the good that is waiting. It's those moments of clarity that recenter me.

 He found me.

 In the post office.

 Wow.

Today is a good day.

New parenting

As previously mentioned, I have read countless books on parenting, had endless discussions with family and friends about specific child issues, prayed daily for my children and myself as a mother, and struggled with Micah to do the best for our kids. So it's been of great interest to me to begin to learn the Norwegian ideas and culture of child rearing. Although we all have the same goals--raising happy and successful children--our methods are very different. A few of the big ones I've found---

1. Everybody's doing it

 Preschool (barnehage) is the norm here for children after 1 year. Norwegians typically consider it a necessity not only because most women work (due to high cost of living, great maternity benefits, and government subsidized  child care) but because it is a necessity for early socialization development. In talking with local parents and preschool directors, it is common thought that kids are missing out if they aren't in school. For me, one of the big ideas I had coming here was being able to be the mom at home with Owen that I wasn't able to be with the other 2 boys.  I had my older 2 boys while I was in medical residency. I spent many a 4am morning and overnight shifts at the hospital with nausea and pregnancy fatigue. I made it through 60hour + work weeks with the help for some amazing fellow residents and faculty. I was never able to go to the park or zoo in the middle of the day or enjoy library story times-I was looking forward to those moments. I am finding I am having to push against the cultural norm to have Owen at home and work a little harder than I expected to find playmates. Luckily, I am finding small group of similar international families who have navigated successfully the same path and are becoming a social network for us.

2.  Don't baby the babies

Winter weather in Norway is not for the weak. Despite freezing temperatures, ice, and snow Norwegians ski, bike, jog, and play outside like its a warm spring day. The same is expected of children. At preschools, the babies routinely nap in their strollers outside on the porch--there are no cribs inside. In fact, there is little inside because the children spend the majority of their day playing outside---hours in the snow. On the ski slopes,young kids are tumbling all around and parents watch from a distance as they pick themselves up. Even at restaurants, kids menus are usually the same fare as the adult options, just smaller portions. Drinks are served in (gasp!) glass glasses-without lids or straws. And the crazy thing is that kids seem to get along just fine. They learn their expectations and meet them happily.

3. Less is more

Comparitavely, life here is simple. Meals are basic, often bland. Clothing is functional. Stores have much fewer selections. Houses are smaller. Architecture is clean lined. This culture of simplicity carries over to kids. Toys R Us is a quarter of the size. School rooms are fairly bare except for wooden blocks, puzzles, Legos. Electronic and sound making toys are significantly fewer. There are no big bell and whistle attractions-no Chuck E Cheese or Main Event. Some of these observations are related to the emphasis on the outdoors, some is related to he higher cost of living and decreased disposable income of families, and some is related to the very strict laws regarding marketing to children. But some is just simply the simple culture of simplicity.

4. Independence Day

On any given school day, you can find elementary age children taking the train to school, a teacher with a group of 3 year olds wearing their yellow reflective vests walking down the street to play at the McDonald's playground, kids at recess in their school yard without a fence or gate separating them from the road. Kids are given freedoms here we would never ever consider in the US. I've found it a bit nerve racking and anxiety producing. 

5. Why can't we be friends

It's been a huge comfort that the boys' transition here was so easy. They were immediately  welcomed into their group of friends. They go to school with friends from around the world-literally-and the kids don't even seem to notice. The local norwegians in the neighborhood and on Barrett's football (soccer) team have made them a part of the group without question. They are more accepting and non judgmental then any group of children or adults I've ever met. 

I'm learning a lot here-some of which I like and some of which is not my favorite-but the Norwegian ideas produce content, independent, active, conforming people. Learning our differences and new viewpoints can only help strengthen the plans Micah and I have for our children. I remind myself daily to be open, welcoming new ideas, embracing our time and the culture here as Im able. God has a plan and I want to be able to receive it. I am thankful for the experience.