Bubbles

I’m sitting in the bath tub and feel like I have to cry, but I can’t, the ugly feet puncture the surface with it’s eyes on the other side, scowl at me and make me realize its crocodile tears that fill my eyes. Anyway, it’s no use crying since there is nobody here who can feel sorry for me, so I swallow the pain like I always do. I’m a miserable person, I feel like sinking, but it’s probably not deep enough. Besides I could never live without knowing what people say about me afterwards, unfree as I am. Despite all that I’m free in a way most people don’t understand. I’m free in the rooms that are already crushed, where the vandals are finished, and they are not coming back, unless I’m so stupid that I restore with new wallpaper and these things. It’s always like that; it’s a kind of secure. At suitable intervals, I open a new door and let them in. There are a lot of thoughts you can think when you are far from shore and don’t have the chance to make some stress, and I think I should be crazier, maybe far, far out, living in my own world, never think of what others believe or what I believe for the matter of that. That would be relieving, I could create something important, I could actually create something, without bonds, without regret, without fear, without anger, without pain. Maybe something beautiful one day.

It is often said that time heal all the wounds, but that is a little bit exaggerated. Time takes too much time. There are faster solutions, and I tried some of them with varying results, but you have to do something to get somewhere. Too often I did nothing to get nowhere. To throw the garbage in the cellar is a well known and effective method I managed with for years. It gave me a lot of spare time, which I used for positive things, like daydreaming. Sometimes, of course the door rips open at an improper time, and lets out the stench, unpleasant for those who are hanging over me bothering. But I have a spray, a scent that can convince almost everybody, laughter I think it’s named.

Another technique I know very well is something that is compared with being filled by the Spirit. It doesn’t really help much, but it becomes a little bit more pleasant to suffer, for a while. But the pleasant and the senseless is also a bad taste in the mouth of they who still believe I have a future here among the living. It’s amazing how kind and optimistic some people are. But they are right. With my history I should be more careful. I’m saying loud to my self that I’m doing ok and I shiver, because I have disappointed many. The fear pays me a visit again, but I’m not afraid of it, I’m foolhardy and mock it.

Thinking didn’t make me happy this time either, but luckily the water has become cold and I can reach for the shore and continue my life. I’m freezing in my spirit, body and soul, while I’m gazing at the bubbles that whirl merciless into the unknown. I pray to Him who knows where everything ends and whisper; help me God, because that’s the only thing that helps, I believe.

I’m so extremely positive

The Ocean

I love the ocean . I’m born by the ocean, the stormy Arctic Ocean. When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time on the shore, dreaming. Listening to the beat of the waves always brought peace to an energetic little punk. I also liked the smell of salt water; it was in a way something living about it. Also, to swim in saltwater is not like swimming in freshwater, it’s like the difference between a firm handshake and a grudging one. And not to mention the size and the horizon in the remote distance that rather persuade to use of the fantasy. I was watching the boats courses, and especially the big ships that I knew was heading for the distant skies, and I could see storms and seamanship, New York and Singapore. I dreamt I was sailing.

I read about Vasco da Gama, Columbus and Leiv Eriksson who actually discovered America, but who nobody south in Europe ever heard about, except they I have talked with. And Thor Heyerdahl, the Norwegian Indiana Jones, doesn’t have a more envious admirer than me in the whole world. I also liked the atlas and the old maps with sea serpents and lands that don’t look quite like those we find today, but they had a fertile imagination if not satellites and navigation equipment.

When I was almost grown up, I at last got my self a ship, fifty feet or sixteen meters solid woodwork. A boat made of recycled plastic bags was never considered no matter how practical that might be. I was sailing. The first year it was weekend trips and after a while whole weeks. The second year the action range was considerable extended and it was then it happened; I sailed into a terrible storm. The ocean that I love washed merciless over the ship, and as the good sailor I was, I did not really know what to do. When the boat was grated as a carrot up and down on the reef, I immediately regretted that I hadn’t arranged the license for the radio telephone and I was sure I was going to die.

But I was famous for my luck and not my judgement, so the end of the story was happy. A cargo ship, one of the big one, spotted me on the radar and called up the coast guard. Luckily I had signed a membership before my voyage and the insurance was very good. The profit was spent on a mountain hotel, but it is the ocean I love.


As time went by I also had the good fortune to be rescued for eternity, and when I think of the effort a average European church put into reaching the lost, am I tempted to call also that an incredible luck.

When I now go in the service, in conferences and such things, it’s like being on the shore. I love the sound of worship; it always brings a peace that last for a long time. Neither can I live without the quivering that turns into palpitation and breath difficulties when God is revealing Himself. I’m happy when I’m bathing in Gods presence. Nothing can ever compare to that. I also like to watch the evangelists’ boats, and specially the big ones that are heading for the distant skies. I have a well developed imagination and I’m only alternately humble, so I have many times seen myself in front of the big crowds in Africa and Asia. But dreaming is far from the same as sailing.

Later, when I was introduced to the book of books, I soon figured out that it was much more than a collection exciting stories. And during the deepening in a strenuous bible school year, I learnt that in the bible is everything you need of maps and manuals to maneuver the ship, and that the things we don’t already understand, will be revealed by the spirit when we leave the dock. So we have with out doubt first-class navigation equipment that the world never has seen the like of, but no school I know, make the sailor find his sea-legs.

When I couldn’t wait any more, and still was a kind of green, I signed on a full time ministry, and the boat was of the good old sort. No newfangled plasticevangelisationsubstituteactivity or what I should call it... The sophisticated tactic was spreading the news face to face, on the streets, in bars, in the neighborhood, or wherever the occasion was given. No fiddlesticks, but straight to the point, popping the question. The action range has been extended to foreign countries, and sometimes I’ve experienced that The Lord have asked me to throw the net on the other side. Never because I exercise an especially good seamanship, but because my God is interested in rescuing everybody from the abyss. And every day, of cause, I benefit from what I’ve learned on the shore, and the maps I’m dependent on to reach the goal, avoid danger and to find a harbor of refuge when the storms are coming. Nevertheless, I’m the kind of person that runs the boat on the reef from time to time, but I have always been found by one of the big ones. Sometimes I’ve also been spotted by they who love to talk around, but that’s the way it is these days.

I have in my circles, become notorious for living in Gods Grace, and with my character I could never do it different, so it’s ok. I also have membership in a good church and in the angels’ coast guard. The insurance is heavenly, and I will never sign off, cause I love the sea God have given me.

Then the conclusion have to be that God have a ocean for all of us to sail, and it’s at last seven of them, but probably many more. And He really needs us, also we who are not so cool and who maybe need glasses to find the mustard seed. It not so hard to understand why He needs everybody, when we know that billions of they Jesus loves and faced death for are on their way to hell. We don’t like to think of it, but it’s true anyway.

Bon voyage!