Those Trolls

I am up VERY EARLY yet again in Norway. By the way, I am here for another week. Once I realized it was Thursday, a fond thought surfaced: Zoom Morning Prayer with some of my besties is coming up. Thank God!

But wait…that’ll be 12 hours from now and it’ll be the afternoon by then.

For more potentially disorienting context, it never really gets dark these days in the land of the midnight sun. And the language is new to me even though the natives speak back in perfect English when I utter one word. And, oh yeah, most everyone is white, many are taller than me AND it’s warmer than I expected. Go figure. It’s a liminal stretch, I’m telling you.

I want to convince myself, in my bones, that ALL IS WELL which, of course, I know intellectually. I am here with a great group, most of whom, besides me that is, have Norwegian blood. There are some solid Lutherans (like Garrison Keillor, I’m saying.) The scenery is magnificent; so is our itinerary.

Even so and especially in the middle of what passes for “night,” I knock up against my own anxious wildness from time to time. Tonight it’s the usual “Will I have enough energy?” and “Can I stay well?” Specifically those ho-hum ordinary loops I know so well have morphed into “Can I ward off the nauseousness on these gorgeous, yet crinkly, bus rides?” and even “It’s time to wash my hair so can I go jump in the fjord first and not catch a cold?”

Oh yes, it’s fascinating in ths noggin of mine. God is shaking me up, people! And, Lord, this is exactly what it takes sometimes.

So…it will be wonderful half-a-day from now (conceivably) to sink into Morning Prayer with whoever can make it.

Before then, maybe I’ll go swimming. Or, at the very least, wash my hair.