We continue our summer series as we travel to Norway with the Grens in May of 1993. Beneath the breathtaking beauty they behold the scars of World War II. . .
Near Alta we come upon herds of reindeer-rather thin and scruffy. The herds have gotten too large for the food supply, but the Lapps do not want to kill their prized status symbols. At last we reach the very top of Norway, the North Cape-vast moors, black shale-like rocks, snow, brown moss, heavy overcast, rain, sleet, snow. No chance of seeing the midnight sun. It is dark and cold. We stand in the Arctic wind on a tremendous promontory. The waves thunder on the rocks far below. Next day, Day Seven, we are in Kirkenes, a town which was completely leveled by the Nazis. In the cemetery we find many gravestones dated August or September, 1944. I think of God’s promise, “All things…for good.” All-to those who love Him. And I remember the sweepingly powerful name, “Blessed Controller of All Things” (1Tm6:15, J.B. Phillips).
We board the coastal steamer Narvik at ten, to begin our cruise down the west coast. A comfortable and immaculate little stateroom (things in Norway are almost without exception immaculate). When I wake in the morning I see from my bed sharper, more rugged mountains racing past the porthole, in place of the enormous flat-topped bluffs of the North Cape. In Hammerfest, the northernmost town in the world, we visit the churchyard. One stone holds the photograph of a teenage boy, “beloved son, shot by the Germans in 1944.” Another poignant tribute: “You were a good mother.” Reindeer droppings in the streets. Snow fences high above the town to prevent avalanches from burying it.
**Excerpt originally from The Elisabeth Elliot Newsletter November/December 1993