The problem when you have too much is that they’ll think it’s you.
They’ll see what you do, and they’ll think it’s you.
They’ll think it’s you, solving all your problems, and working your life together for good. Sometimes you need to be weak, to show where your power comes from.
Like in the bible, when God told Gideon that He would be with His people, and they would defeat their enemies. But instead of strengthening their army, God said that the army was too big. In the book of Judges, ch 6:
2 The Lord said to Gideon, “You have too many men. I cannot deliver Midian into their hands, or Israel would boast against me, saying ‘My own strength has saved me.’
The journey is to become weak. And it’s the absolute freedom of the gospel: to not have to be anything in ourselves. Take it as a gift, not an insult. Sometimes you think you need to be more, when actually you need to be less. We need more cracks in our jars made of clay, so that it’s the light shining through us that’s visible — not the outward glaze.
It’s been a summer of rain here in Sweden. It’s been flooding basements and causing roads to collapse. I guess it’s better than the south of Europe, where it’s been all fire instead. But when I came back to Stockholm and wanted to hike, the path was underwater.
At my parents place, taking summer walks.
Anyways. This post is supposed to be an update. And not just about the weather. I wanted to start writing on here again, so I thought I should start by sharing some of what I’ve been up to. I have gotten a degree since last posting, so I’m a journalist now. I guess. I’ve lived in Stockholm for about three years. I’ve gone through a break up, and I’ve spent the summer visiting people I like.
And now it’s fall. Autumn arrived yesterday, that’s how I wrote it in my notes. Dark skies. More rain. I woke up in an apartment I share with some friends and was confused. I knew I was in a familiar bed, but I couldn’t figure out where.
It’s the smell of this place. It reminds me of things, but not just of things that have happened here. This building also smells the same as the church where I grew up. And like old youth camps. So I wake up in the mornings with nostalgia, but I don’t know for what. I feel like my childhood friends should be sleeping on air mattresses next to me. I feel like my ex should be right outside the door. I feel like I’m 12 years old at Sunday school. It’s all blurry.
That’s my update. I’m a bit blue, but also excited for new cities, or old, wherever I’ll end up going. I have a lot of space to do whatever I want and go wherever I want. Horrible, really. I’m not a big fan of all these choices. The only thing I’d hate more would be to not have the choices. Anyways: I should start writing more, for the practice of it. So welcome back to this page. Let’s see where the season takes us.
eirians 