Armela thinks I'm cool, because I have a blog!

If my heart was a garden, would it be beautiful?

Truly,  relationships and community are not meant to be understood but meant to be experienced, (Young)  like the beauty of a garden. Pain can at its best only remind us about its purpose, to be fragrant and flourishing, while only love can show us its intended and profound beauty. 

Whatever that's dead have to be cleaned up, to give room for the living.

Came across the book Cross Roads by Wm Paul Young tonight, and it kind of found me...

 Image and appearance tell you little. The inside is bigger than the outside when you have the eyes to see. (Young)

I would very much like to have those eyes... wide open :) 

Fina mod och älskade ynklighet

I varje modigt hjärta finns en ynklighet,

en ynklighet av största betydelse.
Som en gammal våg agerar den motvikt till modet. 

Ger trovärdighet åt modets handlingar. 

Älskade ynklighet, vet din plats.

Försök inte vara modig.

Ädla mod, tag din plats.

Övervinn lusten att vara ynklig. 

Tillsammans väger ni upp berg. 


Var modig!

Finding the way back...

"There is a story making the round right now about a four-year-old girl who was overheard whispering into her newborn baby brother's ear. "Baby" she whispers, "tell me what God sounds like. I am starting to forget."

From: Btw the dreaming and the coming true

Finland, you romance me with your sustainable synthetics

You would never let me down.
Never embarrass me. 
Oh how you keep it together.
how you endure!
Even if you're packed to the brink. 
With you, I'm sure I'll make it home.
Safe and sound,we'll get through the door.
We make it in one piece. 
Always!
Finnish grocery bags. 
You are my plastic dream!

Rise and Shine!

I've stopped writing. I've stopped sharing. The words have not come easy to me lately (and just to help you, here's the official video to F.R.Davids famous tunes. There are tonnes of cool hypnotic tiger effects there)… and to be honest I haven't put up a quest to find the words either. I've been rather happy with this fuzzy feeling that I'm on the way even if I'm unable to express it. 

But those shoes I've been walking in, on that way, are too small now. Thinking of sore feet gives me anguish (or ANUguish as some describe it :) and just because I haven't actively been looking for something doesn't mean I don't want it. It's just that sometimes a longing needs to mature before you are ready to step it up.

I want more wisdom and knowledge. And now I'm not talking about becoming one of those who are filled to the brim of middle-aged experience. No I'm talking about becoming one of those who in Christlikness understands what's happening under the surface and can make the right choices and in faith see it through…  with love and joy and peace and long-suffering and gentleness and goodness and kindness and faithfulness and self-control. ( D. Willard) Is that too much to ask? 

I'm told that whatever makes your soul come alive, do it! And this is it! 

But don't be foolish, count the costs, make a plan, come up with a method… and be obedient! So I'm starting by writing what's on my heart. It's the first step.

and then we'll see.


(I'm by the way back in Helsinki and Svenskis after yet another summer in Israel and my life should by no means be described as bad or boring or dissatisfied. On the contrary it's a time of great blessings, promises and anticipation... Best way to describe it is probably that I feel like Miss awesome in the toy-store.)

Mycket nöje!

In memory of Sirpa

I'm writing this in memory of Sirpa, my friend who I got to know in Israel and who has passed away after battling leukaemia for 1,5 years. Rest in Peace, you won!

I want to cherish your memory the way you showed me to. To take time and to let it grow in my mind, and to get purpose before portraying it. 

I remember when we went sightseeing how you didn't even bother to bring your camera and take random snapshots. Instead you silently observed and let the moment speak to you, to all your senses. You saved a picture in your mind, and in time you sketched it on paper as you remembered it. What a beautiful way of seeing the creation and life, to put it in proportion and to value it.

Yet your life told a story of constant battles. This world was never gentle or merciful to you, it never returned your kindness. On the contrary it abused you, deceived you and failed you. 

You said that your name could be traced back to the meaning of scattered, mirage and that your name seemed to foreshadow your earthly life here. Yet you chose to seek a light in it all. I believe that our trials are in proportion to our strength, they will never be greater than we can handle. And to this day I can only look in wonder what a remarkable strong woman you were to live through it all.  Thank you for sharing that light to me, and to your family and friends and enemies.

Never will I forget that day when I for the first time, unannounced came to visit to the hospital, I had heard of you having cancer, but didn't have your number in Finland. When I came to the reception to ask where I could find you, I hear my name being called out behind me. I turn around and there was a woman I did not recognize, with a terrible wig, thin, pale and emaciated. The eyes I met were quickly filled with tears… I can't believe it, you said you are an angel.  With tears still running you explained how you this day, for the first time since coming to the hospital, felt that you had to come down to the lobby. Not knowing why or expecting anything. You said that seeing me walking in through the door, was the same as seeing an angel coming to comfort you and tell you that you are not left alone. 

You told me that day that you felt like you were dying, that you didn't recognize your body anymore since it wasn't your own blood in your veins. I couldn't grasp that. What it felt like not having your own blood. What it felt like dying. 

I didn't believe that you could die. I didn't believe that you already would say goodbye to this world. Maybe that's why I ignored the little whisper in my mind saying Go and visit Sirpa before you go to Israel. I recognized it to be the same whisper I had heard that day I first came to visit. I ignored it this time and now it's too late. I will have to live with that. 

But I know that it is well with your soul and I know that never once did you ever walk alone. One day we will meet again.

Rest in peace Sirpa and thank you for sharing your life with me. You run the race victoriously with humility and dignity.