This is my fourth full day on the Faroe Islands.

So far we have traveled to six of the islands. Several others had to be viewed from afar because access took way more planning than my Sabbatical brain would hold.

The travel has included driving, walking, and ferries.

We’ve driven through tunnels that went through mountains and under the ocean. Some tunnels were brightly lit and two lanes, and others were dark and one lane wide with lay bys every few meters for passing. Those narrow ones felt like driving through a cave, and I was not fond of them.

We’ve seen more waterfalls than I can count. Maybe more per mile than anywhere on the earth–nature’s own drainage system. Only God would make something so necessary so stunning.

Every town has a church, more often than not with a thatched roof. All but one of the churches were locked, but nearly all had a clean WC outside that was open to all. I could probably think of a sermon about this with images of baptism and hospitality but I’m on sabbatical.

The people we’ve met have been generous and kind. I always apologize for not knowing Faroese. They have been gracious about the opportunity to speak English, and one man even said, “There’s only 50000 of us speaking Faroese. I am glad to practice my English.” It is humbling.

We have experienced the weather of maybe. Rain. Wind. Sun. More gray than sun, so a blue sky feels like an invitation to celebrate. Although the car keeps registering in the 50s, it feels much colder.

Today is Sunday. I’m off to worship soon. I checked in online before breakfast and saw the cloud of witnesses that have been officiating St. Mary’s Facebook Live twice daily worship so I can rest. My heart is full. Thank you. John. Sarah. Lissette. Jennifer. Sherry. Deborah. John.

Thanks to you, I’ll be looking for more rest in the land of maybe.

I love getting on a plane that clearly says where I am going. The Faroese airline is the Atlantic Airways three plane fleet. I rode one of the planes to the Faroe Islands on Wednesday night.

The Faroe Islands are a self-governing nation that is part of the kingdom of Denmark. They lie between Iceland and Great Britain and look like a hybrid of each. Faroe means sheep, and there are more sheep than the 50,000 people who call this eighteen island nation home.

A friend in Texas gave me two Faroese contacts. Katrina, the first one I met, said that the Faroe Islands are the land of maybe. Maybe it will rain. Maybe it will be windy. Maybe the sun will shine.

I love thinking about being in the land of maybe. I am living whatever maybe, and it will be wonderful.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,

my spirit rejoices in you, O God, my Savior,

for you have looked with favor on your servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed:

you, the Almighty, have done great things for me,

and holy is your Name.

You have mercy on those who fear you from generation to generation.

You have shown strength with your arm and scattered the proud in their conceit,

Casting down the mighty from their thrones

and lifting up the lowly.

You have filled the hungry with good things

and sent the rich away empty.

You have come to the help of your servant Israel,

for you have remembered your promise of mercy,

The promise made to our forebears,

to Abraham and Sarah and Hagar and their children for ever.

Today is the actual feast day of Mary.

I celebrated with prayers and worship at Hallgrímskirkja which included a gift of extraordinary music by the Schola Cantorum.

Their concert was because it was a summer Wednesday, but I listened for Mary. She showed up in The Song of Simeon, the hymn of praise launched into by a man who had been waiting his whole life to meet the Saviour of the world; he was introduced to the infant Jesus when he was brought to the temple in the arms of his mother, Mary.

To honor Mary, I’ve been looking for blue, the color of hope, and the color she seems to be always wearing in art. Since we have no idea what Mary looked like, her color coding makes her recognizable.

The wall of the hotel is covered in a mural of crosses. Seeing them this morning, the blue ones seemed to praise Mary.

Marian Feast Day Blessings.

A candle was lit and prayers prayed for all of you.

I never knew a seven hour flight could be so delightful. However, when your traveling friend’s husband gifts you both with Saga Class tickets on Icelandair AND you are the only two people sitting in the twenty four seat first class, it’s like having your own private plane.

Our wonderful flight attendant, Halldora Lisa, graciously served us and still had plenty of time to talk knitting and give us great suggestions for a day in Reykjavik.

We landed at Keflavik at 4.30 AM and were at our hotel before seven. The desk clerk really wanted to go ahead and give us our room way before the 2 pm check in and was apologetic that the cleaners wouldn’t arrive until 8.

My friend and I took the time to begin to explore that places Halldora Lisa had carefully suggested.

Cinnamon croissants from Braud and Co.

Coffees at our familiar favorite, Reykjavik Roasters.

Walking the nearly empty streets with our hoods up to protect us from the rain.

After a nap in our now prepared room, we continued to walk the path suggested for us.

The afternoon included a lunch of char and vegetables cooked in a cast iron skillet at Messinn.

By the time our afternoon walk was merging into evening, it was sweet to see the gray of the day have the first peek of sunshine.

It will be an early night tonight after two days of travel. Tomorrow is St. Mary’s Feast day, so worship will be part of tomorrow’s adventure before boarding our plane in the evening for the Faroe Islands and Denmark.