I’m giving my piano away. And it’s hard – I don’t want to. But for certain reasons I really don’t have any reasonable options. I’ve been postponing this for a long time and now the time is up.

I don’t really know how to even play the piano. For me it’s a tool I’ve used when writing songs. And having to give it up feels a bit like a final death after a very long coma of not being able to write – or play, or sing – anything.

I’ll still have my flute. And my guitar. But for some reason they don’t replace the piano, even though I’m much better at playing them.

Having to give the piano away feels like God finally giving up on me. I know that’s silly and not true but that’s how I feel.

My only consolation, although a very slim one, is that it goes to a very good home where it can serve God much better than in my living room gathering dust and dog hair.



When life stands still

Wow it’s been a long while since my last post. Actually I have drafted a couple of posts but never finished them. Where I’m living now is far from favourable for creative things, also, my energy levels have been severely off for a while now. Anyway, today something stirred up some feelings I want to vent here.


I think that’s probably one of the words God uses most. Moses had to wait 40 years. Jonah waited three days in the belly of the whale. Paul waited in the prison. Jesus himself fasted for 40 days in the desert. But still, I don’t understand this waiting thing at all.

In Matthew 9:37-38 it says:

Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.

Since He’s so short of workers anyway, how can He afford to put so many valuable workers aside, to just WAIT? For years and years on in some cases.

I’ve been more or less waiting for Him for over 30 years now. Yes I hate it and it makes me doubt things even more. But at the same time I kind of understand it, because I can’t really be productive in God’s work if I don’t have my facts straight. Then again – how difficult would it be to the Almighty God to give me the answers like He did to Thomas? But no, He chooses not to. For some reason, and maybe some day I’ll find out what that was. Or not.

BUT. What caused me to write this post was a phone call with an old, dear friend. He truly loves God, would love nothing more than to serve Him with what ever he’s been given by God (and that is a lot!) but instead he’s been set aside and kind of alone in a very difficult life situation. For at least a decade now. He’s like a prisoner in his own home, not by choice but circumstances. And God just won’t set him free. It hurt me to the core to hear the sorrow and yearning in his voice. And to realise that he believes that other Christians don’t want to hear of him until he’s able to pitch in again. Oh cry!

Sometimes it just takes all I have and then some to remind myself that God knows better and that He’s not unfair, no matter how badly it seems that He is mistaken and mean.

I’m just so horribly tired.





(Writing this on the first Advent day, but timing it to post on Monday because I posted another piece today.)

“Advent is a season observed in many Christian churches as a time of expectant waiting and preparation for the celebration of the Nativity of Jesus at Christmas.”

I don’t like Christmas. Or Easter. Or other Christian celebrations. But these two are the worst and I’d be very happy to hibernate through them – and all of the Christmas “hype” they’re starting earlier and earlier every year.

The mundane Christmas hysteria is exhausting. I get a rash from the music that’s filling every place and sticking to my brain, no matter how hard I try to ignore it. My eyes hurt from all the bling and trash they’re trying to sell from every possible hole. My brain and body are paralyzing from the pressure of “musts” and “shoulds” and “needs” the hysteria is pouring on all poor shoulders. But it’s not just that why I hate Christmas.

I think the Church is quite as guilty of pressuring people with Christmas as are the marketing forces. It’s just a little different kind of pressure.

Have you ever heard someone say: “What? You’re not going to the Christmas service? That’s not right, after all, it’s our Saviour’s birthday!” Or: “Whaaat??? It’s Good Friday/Easter day, it’s the most important holiday of Christianity! Of course you must go to the church!!!

Yep. I think that’s sad and wrong. Me not going to those services does not mean I don’t appreciate Christ’s work. To me it does not make those holidays any less important. Those services just highlight the reason I don’t like going to church: Ritual.

Church makes me feel empty, sad and frustrated. And a failure as a Christian. It’s probably my own fault, comparing myself to other people in what may not even be true. But seeing people there, some of them almost in some kind of ecstasy, not feeling anything myself, makes me feel even more far away from God. Or listening to the horror stories and the sermon telling how Jesus was crushed because our sins and thus we should feel sooooooooooo bad – and then for days on I feel endlessly guilty because I don’t feel bad enough for my sins.

I think I’m better off not going there. Just trying to find God in my everyday. In my own way, without rituals and not the way other people do it or have done it for centuries.

But then I meet a fellow church member at the store and find out she pretty much thinks I’ve given up God totally. Or get a comment from my not-at-all-talkative hubby – saying between the lines that he thinks I’ve gone astray. Etc. It’s rough, tough and very discouraging.

I’m not attending the first advent day service or christmas service this year either. And that does not mean I love Jesus any less.


Don’t worry

It’s been a long while since my last post. I’ve had a lot of thoughts I’ve “posted” in my head, but just couldn’t make them realize here. Life has been a lot lately, actually way too much, and I’m having a hard time handling it all at the moment. The Bible says

“Never worry about anything, but in every situation let your petitions be made known to God in prayers and requests, with thanksgiving.” (Philippians 4:6)

but that’s really hard to follow. Especially when I’m not quite sure where I stand with God.

God is my refuge. Or should be. But even with these uncertain times, I think I’m allowed to trust that He will take care of me. Because I have asked Him to. For some reason He has allowed these dark times upon me, but I’m refusing to think that He has forsaken me. But, I have to admit, it’s not easy, and there is a shadow of doubt looming somewhere.

How about all those people who know nothing about God? If I’m having this much fear and discomfort, how do they even survive the horrible modern world? How can they not die of fear and anxiety and worry? What is it that comforts them, since it’s not God? Where do they rely on? I find these questions very unnerving and feel so, so, so sorry for these people. I don’t think I would’ve made it through life this far without God and believing that He has all the strings in His hands.

I am afraid. I am anxious. Just that it’s more bearable with God.


How God made me

I’m a mess. The entire human race is a mess because of sin. But that’s not how God made us. He made us perfect and made no mistakes.

He made ME perfect. And made no mistakes.

However, it’s SO difficult to love myself. I don’t like myself. I don’t think anyone else does either – and when they do, I’m truly and honestly surprised. Every time. I find it easy to ask “why am I like this?” and very, very difficult, if not impossible, to say “thank you God that you made me me”.

But who are you, a human being, to talk back to God? Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’
(Romans 9:20)

There. By complaining how I’m so bad and useless and stupid and failure and what else, I’m saying to God that He made a mistake with me. But I can’t say that to Him, can I? Well, of course I can, but that’s not a fair thing to say. It’s not true.

Instead, I think I should say:

“How did You make me? How did You mean me to be? What would I be like, if I was indeed perfectly as You meant me to be? How can I become more like you meant me?”

David understood this and thanked God for it:

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
(Ps. 139:14)

In the Finnish Bible this is translated “I am a miracle“. I love that. The idea always fills me with awe. If only I could truly understand that with my heart and believe it and claim it.

Sometimes I’ve heard teaching that the passage “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:36-40) means that you must love yourself. If you don’t love yourself, you can’t love your neighbour either. I don’t know if that’s true, but it makes me think if that’s why my spiritual life seems to be going nowhere?

I can’t remember having felt loved during my childhood. I remember constantly feeling that I was “excess” or a “spare”. To my father, it seemed, nothing was enough. No matter how good my report card was, there always was something that should’ve been even better. And to my sister I was an idiot and a pain in the b*tt. Mom… can’t remember any fondness from her either. So it’s very, very difficult to believe that anyone, including God, would ever accept me as I am.

That’s sad.

But God says I’m a miracle. I want to believe that. After all, He knows best, right?