I had Fika at the Glassfabriken (Ice Cream Factory) this afternoon with some of the guys from Malmo Vineyard. We talked about everything from music to feminism to Dostoevsky to foreign languages.

Well Malmo just got a whole lot smaller. Someone has kindly lent me a bike.

I'm currently staying with Elinor and Sara, who were doing training at Toronto Airport Church before beginning their studies at Malmo Uni. It's interesting the people who have showed up in this city in the last few months and who are all trying to figure out what God is up to.

I'm starting to get used to being introduced to people as an "Englishman," despite being Welsh.

Good news - there may be some work on the horizon!

Today is a miserable autumnal Thursday in Malmo - rain and grey skies. I'm pretty tired from the moving around I have been doing - sleeping at one friend's house, then another and hoping for an opportunity for accommodation until the end of December to arise.

I've met some great people this week and in many ways being here is a lot of fun. My challenge right now is getting into "the system." In order to get on a language course I need a residence number, which I get when I have work. Learning Swedish would really improve my chances of overcoming a couple of cultural barriers. One of these barriers is that Swedes are great at English and until you have a good basic grasp of the language it's hard to get them to speak to you in Swedish (more than a simple "hi, how are you?").

This morning I met a guy who has just moved to Malmo from Palestine. He was walking the wrong direction from the Migration office to wherever he was going and presented me a map showing where he was going. The map had a green line showing the roads he should follow to his destination. Looking at the map I noticed that this route was probably the longest. The green line zig-zagged across this particular part of town threatening to turn a 10 minute stroll into a 45 minute tour of South-West Malmo. I was reminded of the directions given me by the lady at the tax office the other day which were equally as indirect. I'm sure there's some kind of conspiracy going on...

Mark and Jon are here, exploring the pigeon-less streets of Malmo. It was nice to hear some news from the UK.

On Friday I went to the tax office where I was told that I need a residence permit number to register, then the migration board where I was told that I need a job to register. I'm heading for the AMS (equivalent of Job Centre) to find out about language courses and work advice, then probably to Espresso House.

This evening I head across to Copenhagen for VOLT - the leadership training at Copenhagen Vineyard.

Last night was my first experience of a housegroup held in Swedish. Fortunately I had Sofia to translate. It was great - we looked at the Vineyard value of worship, we sang around the piano, and then Ola asked if I'd mind if they pray for me. As they prayed they gave words that answered all the niggling fears that I had going on inside my head - it was truly uncanny.

Afterwards we cycled back in crisp minus temperatures (when I got to the bike the seat was frosted over!) and I was filled with the deep sense of peace knowing that, whatever happens, God is in control.

Well I'm here. Interestingly God provided me some comfort on the way, through the medium of people both known and unknown. The first was Clare Samuel, who was on the train from Cardiff to Newport and provided the distraction I needed from the fact I had just said goodbye to Zoe (which was no fun at all).

When I arrived at Birmingham International Airport I went to Starbucks for my final Caramel Macchiato for a while. I sat down on one of their sofas and did some journalling, reading etc. Then I got up to look at the departure screen and my book fell. The lady opposite me picked it up and commented on the fact I had been thumbing through my Bible. Her name is Elizabeth and she's part of a church just outside Copenhagen, so we got to chat about God and what an adventure it it following him. When we arrived in Copenhagen she and her husband Martin helped me find the train for Malmo!

I'm typing this from the library, or Stadsbibliotek, of which I'm now a member. It was one of the missions set by Emma to help me get used to life in the city. On the way I tried out my first bit of cycling on the right side of the road...very interesting.

Leaving on a Jetplane
So tomorrow I get on a plane and set off on a new adventure. I don't really know what the next few weeks or months will bring, but I'm trusting that everything will be okay.

From day to day I hear a lot of music I haven't heard before, but this particular band is really worthy of a blog post. Matisyahu are apparently huge in NYC and are fronted by a guy who is an Orthodox Jew (complete with beard) and refuses to play shows on Fridays. Check out their video King without a Crown.

Last night was Jennie's houseparty. The highlights for me were:
a) Geir somehow getting everyone in the place (with help from Steve) chanting "speech, speech, speech" at Jennie, to her complete surprise. (After all, what is an "English Party" without a speech?)
b) Having the twinge in my neck sorted out by Lorna, one of Jen's Chiropractic friends.
c) Getting to meet a whole bunch of new people.

Apparently this is how you tell if you've been in Sweden too long. I particularly like number 118.

It's been a long old day. I woke up at 5am yesterday. I'm now at the point where I feel really disorientated!

The good news is that it's bed time. Earlier I worked my last shift at Starbucks and in a week I will be in Malmo. This evening I hooked up with some people from work for a little farewell drink. The strange thing was that 3 out of 5 of us were Finnish.

Tomorrow is my Dad's birthday.
Good night.

I'm working my last two shifts at Starbucks today and tomorrow - a close followed by an open. The open shift starts at 6.30am, so my alarm sounds at 5am and by 6 I'm navigating the streets of Cardiff on my bike.

If I had a dime for every time I heard someone undermine the passion of someone who has just started following Jesus with statements like, "isn't it great when you're new to following Jesus..." I'd have a lot of foreign currency. Every time I hear it I feel as though someone is jabbing a knife between my ribs and turning it. My understanding of the life of a follower is it gets better with time - that we should expect that as our relationship deepens and we have more opportunities to see the Kingdom break through that our excitement and expectancy would increase.

Every time I hear it I'm reminded of the parable of the sower in Luke 8:4-8 and Jesus' explaination (here) that the different types of ground represent the responses of different people to the message of the Kingdom. In this particular situation I'm reminded of the thorny ground, which represents "those who hear and accept the message, but all too quickly the message is crowded out by the cares and riches and pleasures of this life. And so they never grow into maturity." That parable wasn't told for those who were cynics, for those who would never believe, but for those who did believe. It serves as a warning to us all - will we let the distractions that are thrown across our path, the troubles of this life, define us and our level of hope, or will we let them act as opportunities for growth (eg)?

One of my favourite cable channels is Turner Classic Movies (TCM). I've been using it to catch up on must-see movies that pre-date me, like House on Haunted Hill and Strangers on a Train. Tonight they're showing Blood Simple by Ethan and Joel Cohen.

While at Paddington Station, on our way back from Sweden, we got coffee from Costa Coffee. I asked for a Caramel Macchiato and received a cup with a couple of shots of espresso and a whole lot of caramel syrup. Yuck. The drink lacked the crucial ingredients of milk and vanilla syrup...