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.

I have officially begun my mini-Sabbatical funded generously by the Diocese of Texas as a gift of healing for Harvey-healing clergy.

The first leg of my travels was via Dallas to visit my family in Chambersville. I was upgraded; the flight was delayed; I landed in pouring rain for my drive to my mom’s farm.

Surprise. Joy. Waiting. Traveling mercies. Water. Words to begin a time of post-Harvey healing and rest.

Part of my visit home was in order to have a family meeting to talk about my brother’s desire to begin to build a home for his family on the land that my brothers and I would eventually inherit. This was a challenging conversation as the three of us all caught up to the same place.

It was not lost on me that the pastor during my Sunday morning worship at the tiny Methodist church at the end of the road was preaching on Ephesians. Words about how we live in love with one another.

As I walked my mother’s land, I was deeply aware of so many places still to be transformed in my heart and actions. Things I can do with relative ease with others get forgotten when I return to big sister land.

I am so thankful to have a mother and brothers who love me with my flaws. I am thankful for the opportunity to practice listening and speaking the truth with family who continue to love even when I can be a precious mess.

Now. Soon. Boarding a plane to take me first to Reykjavík so I can travel for a week on the Faroe Islands

Surprise. Joy. Waiting. Traveling mercies. Water.

Amen.