It's close to 6pm, so it's been nearly 36 hours since my last entry. It's gone by quickly; I arrived in Skjolden at around 10:30 yesterday morning, along with the six bags I was shuttling up here from Oslo. I felt like the worst packer ever... I mean, seriously, who brings six (6!) bags with them on a trip, except maybe Arabian royalty or hip-hop artists? It was especially ludicrous since only one of the bags was my own, and I even tried to pack light - good thing!

Yesterday afternoon we went for a hike to the top of the waterfall which overlooks Elvheim (the youth hostel at which everyone stays at). By "we," I mean Darrell and Annette, the couple who leads this trip every summer, and also Adam and Renae, a couple close to my age who also work with the Navigators in Colorado. (at CSU, I think). Darell's parents are also here, Darrell Sr. (or Big D, in order to differentiate him from his son) and Sandy. And, of course, my good buddy Dylan (Darrell and Annette's almost-3-year-old son) is here for his third summer. He remembered me from last summer - whether because of parental prompting or out of superb recollection skills, I'm not sure - and came right up as soon as he saw me and said "Patrick! Hi, buddy!" and gave me a hug. It's been nice to begin to reconnect with some old friends from last year (Darrell, Annette and Dylan) as well as begin to forge what I'm sure will be quality relationships with new acquaintances.

After the hike and an inaugural fjord jump (so cold, so refreshing), a leisurely dinner and some unpacking, I headed to bed around 9pm, utterly exhausted... and didn't wake up until 9:30 the net morning. It was such a delicious nights sleep, a real gift from the Lord. After only maybe three hours of sleep in the last 60 hours of life, it was much needed. It was good to be soothed to sleep by the sound of the rushing river right outside my bedroom window...

Today we did some work outside - dug out and filled a sandbox for kids to play in (mainly for Dylan at the moment, but all are welcome), spread some gravel on a walkway down to the backyard, re-planted some fauna and flora, moved some large rocks, an generally logged a day of quality man-work. I took another refreshing dip in the fjord earlier this afternoon, and now I'm enjoying a little down time before dinner. It's so light still - the sun goes behind the mountains a little after 7pm, but even then it never really gets "dark." Around 2am it'll be pretty dim, but you can still see your way around without any trouble.

Skjolden is set in a valley at the end of the longest and deepest fjord in Norway. Two rivers carve their way through impressive mountain ranges before eventually winding their way into Skjolden and depositing their ice-cold, glacier-fed water into the fjord. Mountains, many of them over 1,000m high and still holding onto snow on their peaks, line every point of the horizon. Waterfalls cascade down cliffs hundreds of meters high into the rivers or the fjord. What little level ground there is is lush and green. It's like a real-life Rivendell, minus the elves. The hostel, Elvheim (which means "river home"), is both roomy and inviting, basic and yet comfortable. A fast-moving river runs right past the backyard, filling the hostel with the sound of running water. And... God is here. I feel Him, and I hear His call. Not that I don't elsewhere, but, at least for me, staying at Skjolden is like taking off a pair of sweaty, dirty, smudged sunglasses - suddenly I see things more clearly. The facades and artifices of life drop away, and as my soul is emptied of distractions and purged of the straw and hay I've been feeding it, I feel... empty. And hungry. Desiring God, "hungering and thirsting after righteousness." I begin to sense the kol Yahweh, the call of God - "Draw near to me." Help me, Lord. Draw me nearer, fill me with real food, with living water, with Life, so that I may be available to empty myself out for others.