Hallo from Iceland!

About six weeks ago, I realized I was wasting my youth working at the wrong place. I remember staring ahead one afternoon, golden-hour sunlight searing the wall in front of me, wondering what I was still doing there. I had learned a lot in that job, but my time of learning had come to an end long before I realized it, and there was nothing else I could learn by continuing to work there. Every time I drove home crying, I told myself I couldn’t quit till I found another job. 

But that night, I was done. I just had to get out of that rut, and I was reckless enough to do it without the safety net of a second job. The next day I turned in my two weeks notice, and within an hour had contacted a new employer in the most remote and exotic place I could think of: a pair of sheep farmers in Iceland’s Westfjords. 

“Iceland?” You say. “I’ve never even heard of the Westfjords!” Surprise: I hadn’t either! But I’ve always craved the unknown. My soul thrills every time I learn a new word or taste a foreign food. When I announced my decision, some of my friends told me they might have been surprised if anyone else were doing it. But my news hardly shocked them (a pity). 

These people knew me, but I did not know myself then and have yet to find my limits. I had never left my family for longer than ten days at a time, but I rashly told the farmers I could work for three months. And why not? I had the whole summer free, and if I were to pay over $700 to visit Iceland, I should stay longer than one week. I am young, able-bodied, and commitment-less. What better time to travel would present itself? 

Closer to my departure from home, however, I began to realize the weight of my decision. The heavy thoughts rolled in like thunderclouds on a thick June afternoon:

(1) I would miss my family.

(2) I would probably cry.

(3) there would be long days where I really, honest-to-goodness wouldn’t  want to shovel sheep pellets and wrestle ewes into their respective pens (heavens those wooly monsters can put up a fight! I was nearly dragged to kingdom come today – but more on that later).

These thoughts made my chest tighten. But onward! I had made my decision and I would not change my mind. At the airport – and I had never traveled solo, much less maneuvered an airport alone – my brother told me something along the lines of: “You’re feeling this now, but once you get there you’ll totally forget your fears about it. It’s such a good feeling. You’ll be fine.” 

He was so right. The thrill of living in Þingeyri, Iceland has carried me into a world of excitement to do the most mundane and even menial chores.  I have learned in the first three days that shoveling poop, birthing lambs and jumping into the freezing fjord for the sake of fresh water will certainly build my character more than ever before. If I have learned so much in just three days, I cannot wait to see how much I will learn in a summer. All I have yet to do is resign myself to the fact I will be smelling like a cow’s rear end till September – and possibly longer, if the scent follows me home. (The smell is so strong, I think it may imprint itself into my DNA by then. God is sovereign over that.)

So here I am. Three months await, of riding indignant sheep out the barn door (and sometimes being bucked off into a dung-pile), bottle-feeding newborn lambs and calves, herding sheep and yelling at the excited dogs to get out of the way, bare-handedly cleaning cows’ rear ends, and much more of God’s goodness. 

I know the sadness will come. But when I cry for home, my King will catch my tears. He is before and behind me, and He restores my soul.

To all those who told me they thought I wasn’t serious : LOL. Joke’s on you. 

To those who told me I was going to die or disappear: I am alive. Thank you for your concern. 

To everyone (including the above) who encouraged me; to those who gave me righteous counsel even when it was to tell me I was rash and foolish, and to those who have prayed so diligently over me and my first venture into the unknown: thank you. So much. I thank God for you every day in my prayers. How abundantly He has blessed me, that my launchpad should be so soaked in prayer!