Lack of sleep

It's amazing what lack of sleep can do to you. After a week of profound joy and internal peace in the midst of human despair, I finally had my moment of weakness. That was yesterday, and I just couldn't understand why my heart kept hardening at the weirdest of things, why things didn't want to look bright anymore and why I kept having so stubbornly negative thoughts all the time, despite my own efforts. Where had the heavenly song gone? No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't keep above water surface. Everything inside me just felt wrong, even though my mind was telling me so clearly that nothing had actually changed. No reason to lose faith, but still, I kept sinking.

It wasn't until this morning when I woke up after eight hours of sleep which felt like the biggest teaser of them all, that I realized how tired I actually am. I haven't slept for ages. The nights have been too short and there has been no time to recuperate. No wonder my psyche is bearing the burden. That's what happens to us when we neglect the most basics of need.

So tonight, I will not philosophize. I will turn off my mobile phone (so I can't be reached), "crawl into bed" as we actually say in Swedish (!) and enjoy sleep to its very fullest. And as soon as my tired body stops claiming my soul, I will let you know what's going on both in my mind and in my heart.

Take care!

The art of walking on water

It's been a long time since I was down. Despite my mother's illness, May was a month of hope and I had a heavenly song of joy singing in my heart. June was a month of family reunion and celebration. Now is a time of... I don't really know, for sure. Internal battle, perhaps?

There is a curtain of melancholy lying like a heavy cloud over my head, that someone insists on pulling down in order to dim my view. I've been battling that curtain for a few days now, and there has also been a touch of despair and anxiety lurking in my shadows. My mother is hurting, and it makes my heart bleed not to be able to do anything for her. There is nothing in my power that can ease her pain.

A little voice is stubbornly proclaiming that the good times have come to an end, and wants to bring me back into a state of mourning. I know that voice and I care little for the insinuation, but a bleeding heart makes an easy prey for despair. Hence the curtain-battle. But I have all reason to hope, even though my heart is being a bit resistant right now.

I wanted to write something deep about Niger tonight, but I have no concentration for that. Instead, I will tell share something that happened on the 19th of May. Something I've been needing to remind myself of for the past few days.

My mother was woken at 06.15 am by a voice, saying: "Bettan, you are to receive a great gift." Her first thought was, "Have I been healed?" but she hadn't, not then at least. A little while later however, my brother and his wife came to tell her her that they were expecting another baby - her second grandchild. That was indeed one of the greatest gifts anyone could possibly give her.

I'm not easily moved to tears, but when my mother told me this, I had tears of joy. My mother could not have been given a greater gift than to know that she will have another grandchild, but above all, it is was the fact that God sent a messenger to tell her that moved me to tears. Somehow, he just knew that she needed to know from him before she heard it from anyone else.

The funny thing is that things have been looking very gloomy lately with my mother's health deteriorating day by day. And yet, I am full of hope because God is with us and my heart is singing a song of joy. How could I want life to be otherwise when I have peace in my heart and overwhelming joy and thankfulness? How could I be anything but grateful?

I don't care about the outcome because I have a hand to reach out to, and I will squeeze that hand tight and savor every minute that we have together. And I want to live my life wholeheartedly and invest every day as if it might the last.

Ishtar

I could write pages on my current state of melancholy, but I know, deep inside, that it's all about having faith. It's not the rain outside that brings darkness to my soul. It's the constant battle of daring to venture into the unknown, choosing to follow that whisper in my heart that gives me peace.

Even though I walk through the shadows of death, I fear no evil, for you are my comfort.

Although I call it a battle of curtains, it's actually all about daring to walk on water. I was running on the surface a few weeks ago, eager to reach my goal and to follow my heart's desire. Now all of a sudden my legs are made of concrete and the impossibility of it all is making me sink.

I know where to find comfort, and I know whose face I will seek. I know who carries me when my soul is weak and my legs are limb and even when my heart is bleeding and my tears have run dry. I know who takes over for me when I am losing the battle of curtains. I just need to remind myself to actually go and ask for help.

Copyright Eden Foundation 2006

Ishtar