When I was a child, I had a pen-pal from Norway. Her English was rocky, and she described her female dog using a word that I was not allowed to use, but when she described her life in a country that seemed so different from mine, I was captivated. I couldn’t imagine living in so different a place. She mentioned in one of her letters that she would love to visit me, and that birthed in me the desire to see her nation.

It has been fifteen years since I heard from my pen-pal (whose name I cannot even remember now), but I never lost my desire to see Norway. So when I was told that Peri and I would be going to a meeting of Christian artists in Norway in June, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I made a vow in my heart that I would wear the same outfit for all five days of the conference, if only I could bring along all of my camera gear.

And in spite of all of my dreaming, Norway was so much more beautiful than I expected. The mountains ran straight to the sea, and the sun never fully faded from the sky. We lost all track of time, and after evenings of seeking God’s heart for the arts in Europe, we sat on the porch in the sunglow, our bodies convinced that it would be twilight forever. In the afternoon, our friends took us to see the city centre of Alesund, to climb mountains on islands and discover lakes at the top, to drink coffee and reconnect with friends who share our heart for Europe, but who live so far from London.

And always, always, the mountains were nearby, steadfast and beautiful.

(taken by Peri)

11:17 pm from our window