…I would say when violence erupted in Seattle, in Lakewood, at the Uffizi in my beloved Florence. At the 1994 Olympic Games in Lillehammer, Norway, a wallet was inadvertently left on a bench. The finder turned in the wallet which made its way back to its owner. Gotta love a country where its citizens are so honest. A peace-loving, quiet country with lefse and fiords. There’s always Norway to flee to; a place my ancestors left in the 1890s could be a great place for us to land in retirement, I’d say.
Then last week’s massacre: the bombing in Oslo, on the island those innocent sweet children gunned down, hunted. Paradise violated.
Yesterday at church, I made my way back to my pew after receiving Communion. This silence is a time of quiet reflection when I pray for family, friends, concerns. Each time I ask myself who, what needs prayer. Yesterday, as I reflected, I had only one thought: “There’s always Norway.”