Tuesdays' Tune

If I remember it correctly then October should be the Black History Month in England. Which gives us a perfect reason to go black for a month. Hah, I like that! And I don't know any better song to start this month with than Esperanza Spalding's amazing Black Gold. Watch the whole video, I'm embarrassed to admit but after watching it I had to google names like Salif Keita, Miriam Makeba, and Fela Kuti, and educate myself.

--

Life is very quiet at the moment. Very busy and yet unbelievably quiet. The quiet season in my life continues.

I called my parents last Friday evening, after I had come back to Tartu. And my dad said that it was as if the sun had come out for two days when I was home cleaning and cooking and singing and well, just being there. And it made me realise that it's not only me who needs them but that they might need me now just as much, if not even more. It gives me this deep satisfying and comforting feeling to know that it's not a one way street but this love and need for each other is very much mutual.

I've said yes to do the morning devotional minutes for the national radio station again. It's the third time in three years. It gives me a whole load of extra work to do - seven mini sermons, to be exact - but I couldn't say no. There were about 90 people to hear me preach last Sabbath but for all I know, there might be 90 000 to hear the morning devotionals from the radio each morning. Which means that I just have to find time to prepare so that I could tell them about Jesus.

And then I'm reading Seven Deadly Sins of Women in Leadership. Haha, thanks for the copy, S., very much appreciated!

13 days until I touch down in England again. Late in the evenings I lay on my bed, listen to music, and think of Newbold. I think it's called love.

Throwback Thursday

Natural blond :P

I got two days off so I've come to see my parents in Pärnu. It's just crazy, never ever during my three Newbold years - that is many months away from my family - have I missed my parents so terribly much as I've missed them over the last two weeks. There were moments over these weeks when I had to fight against almost an invincible desire to get on a bus and come home. But now I'm here. And it feels heavenly.

I just had to get a bunch of red roses to my mom on my way home from the bus station.

And now I want to talk about love. I'm glad none of you is here to see how emotional I'm just about to get. Because this is terribly personal.

I have pleaded with God and I've asked Him to take ten years of my life and give them to my mom. And I have meant it. I hope He takes me serisously enough to at least consider this arrangement. I would do it without ever giving it a second thought and without ever mentioning it again.

And one day when I'm old and sick, my wish is that one of my own children would have courage to pray the same kind of prayer for me. It should be possible if I manage to do half as good a job as a mother as my own mom has done. And it's not that I care too much about ten last years of my life, I don't, and it's not that I want to get back what I've freely given away. But I want to keep this love and this spirit in the family. My parents have done an outstanding job, for if there's a kid in this world who is raised in a way that she's willing to pray such a prayer, this kind of love is worth keeping alive and worth keeping in the family. And I know that it's this kind of love that in the end proves to be invincible and immortal. And I want to find a way to pass it on to the next generation.

Love wins.

 
Me and Mat Kearney used to be pretty close a few years ago. During my first Newbold year, to be more precise. I remember those long days when I studied Greek and battled with B sections (if you've done Greek in Newbold, you know the stuff), and sometimes it took me a whole day. I called them 'my Greek days'. And on my Greek days Mat Kearney used to be my constant companion, I needed his music like air. It has been a while since I've seriously listened to his music. But there's one song I keep coming back to. So ladies and gents, may I present - Mat Kearney and his I Won't Back Down. A beautiful tribute to another great singer, Johnny Cash. Enjoy!

And I won't back down
I won't turn around and around
And I won't back down
Doesn't matter what comes crashing down
I'm still gonna stand my solid ground

I've been thinking about truth lately. I've encountered people who are convinced they possess all the Truth there is out there, and this gives them some sort of superiority over other people. And well, when you are superior to someone, it doesn't really matter how exactly you treat them. For you're right anyway.

And I can't help but think of a text in the gospel of John where Jesus has the audacity to tell those famous words: I am the way, the truth, and the life. And I realize that I understand truth in a completely different manner compared to many other people. Because for me Truth isn't a what, truth is a who. Truth is not a doctrine, Truth is a person.

So a person can only have as much Truth as much as she has Jesus. A person can only be as close to Truth as close he is to Jesus. Doctrines and sound teachings are all good and necessary, don't get me wrong, I don't have any intention to downplay their importance, but they have never been and they will never be the Truth. I believe in one Truth, and that is Jesus.

Last week I attended the Estonian Christian radio station's event - it was really cool. I got to see some old friends, I got to make some new ones, and I got to hang out with the archbishop of the Estonian Lutheran church (it doesn't happen every day). And in the end of the day when there was only a handful of friends left, we prayed together. And the director of the radio station prayed for the healing of my mom in such a beautiful and powerful way. And I realized there, praying together with my friends from Adventist and Baptist and Lutheran church, that on this very moment there were no doctrinal differences (no doctrines at all, for that matter), there was no ecumenical politeness, there were no walls, but there was a lot of Truth in this moment. Because Jesus was there, and with Him a lot of divine love, mercy and caring. And once again I saw the beauty of the real Truth, the kind that sets you free and makes you see the world through the eyes of Jesus. Beautiful.

Oh, one last thought - when you've got all the Truth in the world, you don't look down on other people. You go and die for them.

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”

Theodore Roosevelt

One of the greatest thoughts of all times.

Throwback Thursday

M. & M. & D. & B.

Every Thursday is The Experience day. Even now when I'm not in Newbold any longer. The Experience and Thursdays will always go together for me.

It's hard for me to put it into words - how much love I had for The Experience. And how much love I had for my people. Every Experience was like a miracle for me. I remember how each Thursday night, after the program was done and after the Moor Close stuff was taken back (people, don't ever touch that pink Moor Close lamp again, it's not in a good condition, I should know) and after I had said 'thank you' and 'good night' to my team, I sat or paced back and forth in my little room, realising that what had just happened had been much bigger and much more beautiful than the sum of the parts - it wasn't only about finding a speaker and a praise team, or about getting PowerPoints done and the room decorated, it was always making a space for people to meet Jesus in that tiny little Student Centre. Every Thursday night I had so much adrenaline in my blood I couldn't fall asleep for hours, and thus I kept playing the Experience tape in my head, thinking of every little detail again and again. Crazy stuff.

And I look at this picture and it makes me sentimental and all. For half of the team is already gone - I'm in Estonia, D. is back to Brazil. Give it another year and M. and B. will be gone, too. Students who come to Newbold next year will know nothing of the team we used to have. And that is fine. For something that we created and the love we had for each other will always stay, even if some people know nothing about it. That's the beauty of The Experience. Well, that's the beauty of life, really.