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Tag: Vlog

CATEGORY Travel, Vlog

Grünerløkka, Rognstranda, Flekkefjord, Preikestolen & Bergen Vlog | Norway Road Trip

@storytellersorthe

The Louvre and Eiffel Tower Immersed in Rose (19.0

The Louvre and Eiffel Tower Immersed in Rose (19.03.25) 🗼
France 2025 Diaries - Marie-Madeleine Pilgrimage

Up from the Louvre, I climb the light,
stone gives way to the breath of night.
A hush of rose on Paris’ face,
the Tower stands in tender grace.
And there—between the dusk and dome—
I feel both lost and somehow home.

The sky blushes like a lover’s cheek,
and in my chest, the echoes speak
of one in Norway, far, but near,
whose name I carry, crystal-clear.
Oh, how I walk these cobbled ways,
yet long for you through all my days.

To make this art, I roam and roam,
but oh, the cost of not being home.
The warmth I leave, the touch I miss,
for just a frame, a shot, a kiss
of beauty passing, spirit-spun—
a holy ache in everyone.

I’m not just lens or eye or hand—
I’m longing stitched into the land.
A vagabond with vision wide,
but still a child who aches inside.
I chase the light, I bear the flame,
and yet, I whisper still your name.

The Tower stands like me—so tall,
but hollow in her metal call.
She reaches high, but feels the ground,
her silence speaking without sound.
A mirror of my artist’s soul—
half of a heart that’s seeking whole.

To live like this—to give, to part—
is worship drawn in lines of art.
My prayer is every shutter’s breath,
my love defies both time and death.
I lift my gaze, my voice, my plea:
O God, let others feel through me—

The pull of love, the sacred ache,
the beauty born from what we break.
Let this be union, fierce and true—
my art, my heart, my gift to You.

- Martine Madeleine

The Kingdom Beneath Our Feet (19.03.25)

The Kingdom Beneath Our Feet (19.03.25) 🌎
France 2025 Diaries - Marie-Madeleine Pilgrimage

The new earth is not beyond the sky—
it is breaking through the soil.
Not in mansions above,
but in washing of each others’ feet below.

It hums in the hands that heal,
in the arms that hold the weeping.
It sings in the silence of those
who choose love over being right.

Where bread is broken with the forgotten,
and tables stretch without end—
there, heaven kneels
and calls it home.

The new earth is not built
on the bones of empires,
but on the body of Christ—
broken, given, risen.

The new earth is not far—
it begins where pride breaks,
where power is poured out,
where the last are lifted.

For here, greatness bows.
And holiness wears skin.
And every act of mercy
plants eternity.

And we,
if we have eyes to see,
are beholders of this mystery.

- Martine Madeleine

The Soul Breaking the Ties that Bind her to Earth

The Soul Breaking the Ties that Bind her to Earth 🪽
France 2025 Diaries - Marie-Madeleine Pilgrimage

Before me—the soul unchained—I stood,
Wings stretched wide like burning good.
She reached beyond what eyes could see—
As if God’s breath had set her free.

But I—still clothed in red and white,
A body warm with morning light—
Felt tethered still by threads of clay,
Though heaven called in quiet sway.

Why, Lord, must knowing You be grief?
A joy so vast it splits belief.
I’ve touched Your hem in dusk and dust,
Yet walk this world in trembling trust.

If You are near—so close I weep—
Why do I ache when I should sleep?
Why do I long for skies undone,
When You have come, when You are One?

O Beauty draped in holy fire,
O Love that wounds me with desire—
Must I be torn to know You true?
To rise, must I be rent in two?

Yet here I am—between breath and bone—
A gallery where shadows roam,
Where art reminds and time forgets
The soul is more than her regrets.

So bind me not, but break me clean—
Let longing make what death redeems.
If here I stay, then let it be
With eyes that see eternity.

- Martine Madeleine

The Flesh and the Divine in Louvre

The Flesh and the Divine in Louvre 🖼 (19.03.25)
France 2025 Diaries - Marie-Madeleine Pilgrimage

I walked the halls of eros,
where centuries of hands etched
desire into marble and canvas —
women and men tangled in longing,
each brushstroke an eternal prayer
to something felt but unnamed.

The crowd swelled,
a hundred eyes converging
on her restrained smile —
Mona Lisa —
not coy, but knowing.
What does she see
that we still search for?

Eros danced in oil and stone —
bodies arched in ecstasy,
fingers grazing fruit,
garlands trailing across bare skin.

There,
A woman —
hovering in the roof, naked.
Butterflies fluttered around her like fleeting hopes.
Doves stood still, waiting.
Was it me, up there,
staring back at me?
My soul said yes.

I had been here before —
not in this palace,
but in the flesh,
where beauty seduced the soul,
and the spirit hid its ache
beneath the veil of sensation.

I sat beneath a shaft of sun,
book open,
on the front cover —
«The Wisdom of a Broken Heart»
and I let mine break open again,
in questioning.

Was it sin,
or the longing to be known?
Was it authority I resisted,
or the surrender it required?

Now I see not anew,
but deeper beyond the veil —
the flesh and the divine,
the pull still present,
but met with Presence.

Each statue, each painting —
a relic of our reaching:
flesh to spirit,
dust to glory.

Even in lust,
a hunger for Love.
Even in longing,
the echo of Eden.

And all of us —
the flock before the frame,
pilgrims in perfume and paint —
give glory,
somehow,
to the One
from whom all beauty comes.

— Martine Madeleine

Jardin des Tuileries (18.03.25)

Jardin des Tuileries (18.03.25) 🌺
France 2025 Diaries - Marie-Madeleine Pilgrimage

I walked through the Jardin des Tuileries.
The garden was awake with longing — trees stretching tenderly toward the sky, statues worn soft by the patience of time, fountains tracing prayers in the air.

I kept thinking back to when I used to long for beauty, to reach for it, to want to gather it into my own hands — as if the ache inside could be satisfied by what I could touch or claim.

But as I walked, I realized my longing has transformed.
Something quieter stirred.
A different kind of longing — less a grasping, more a surrender.

The garden itself seemed to teach it:
that true love does not seek to possess, but to give.
That the deepest desires are not fulfilled by having, but by being received into something greater than oneself.

St. Bernard once wrote that love begins in self-seeking, but matures into a love that seeks nothing but the Beloved Himself.
That eros — our human yearning — when purified by agape — divine self-giving love — becomes something truer, freer, fuller.

In the secular world, we find eros without agape.
That is, a longing to unite with the beloved, but without self-gifting.
But among believers, we find agape without eros.
That is, a self-gifting, but without a longing to unite with the beloved.
Both without each other are distorted.

«Eros and agape are two parts of the same mystery,» the garden spoke to my heart.
It is called, «Loving as God loves.»

I found myself praying without words in this garden.
Not asking for anything.
Not needing to hold the beauty around me.
Just letting the garden draw me deeper into the quiet flame that already burns at the center of all things.

I embrace...
Love that does not grasp, yet commits.
Longing that is fulfilled by surrender.
Eros transfigured by agape.

In the soft pathways of the Tuileries, I walked a little closer to that mystery.

- Martine Madeleine

L’église de la Madeleine (18.03.25)

L’église de la Madeleine (18.03.25) ⛪️
France 2025 Diaries - Marie-Madeleine Pilgrimage

What if the world
sat still enough
to learn from a weeping woman?
What if redemption
looked like recognition,
not perfection?

The mystery of her Christ-devotion
This is what drew me to L’église de la Madeleine;
I recognize my new heart in her.
Yearning. Longing. Loving.
A true romantic.

I exit the metro at Rue Royal,
climbing the stairs among Parisians left and right,
Where are we all going?
Mystery.

I look up,
ascending up from the underground
surreal,
I see is a temple of a building,
taking up the whole square

A homeless person sitting at the gate,
school students having their lunch in the sun,
tourists taking photos outside.
What are we all waiting for?

Entering the church
fragrance in the air.
There she is,
at the front.

In her majesty,
with angels on both sides,
and Christ hovering in the dome above.
Spectacular.

Inside:
columns like sentinels,
candles like prayers with tongues of flame,
a stillness so full it hummed.
The golds and greys,
the dome above—
it was not just architecture,
it was echo of eternity.

Clearly, here in France
she is honored as the Apostle of the Apostles.
The woman with the perfume is celebrated,
rather than ignored.
The one who poured the most precious oil,
her life, her love,
on the feet of our savior.

Oh. how I yearn to do the same.
There I sit, a pilgrim led by nothing but the love of Christ, pondering...
«Marie-Madeleine,
how can I even come remotely close
to your devotion to Yeshua?»

I stood not as a tourist,
but as one returning—
not only to a church,
but to my calling.

- Martine Madeleine

28th Birthday Portraits in an Architect’s Apartm

28th Birthday Portraits in an Architect’s Apartment (18.03.25) 🌹
France 2025 Diaries - Marie-Madeleine Pilgrimage

Let me introduce myself anew.
I have taken a new middle name, «Madeleine» as a way to celebrate my 28th birthday and my first year of walking closely with Christ since I felt the touch of His eternal love.
«Madeleine» means Magdalene, referring to Mary Magdalene, Marie-Madeleine in French - the Apostle of the Apostles that loved very much.
My new name, Martine Madeleine Sorthe means...
«A warrior-like spirit (Martine), a tower of wisdom (Madeleine), deeply connected to the mysteries of the unknown, where light comes through darkness (Sorthe)”
To celebrate, I felt the call of going to France, visiting all the major Marie-Madeleine sites.

I arrived Paris on a sunny Thursday afternoon, found my way to the Madeleine district.
I enter what seems to be a building with a lot of history, and I am greeted by a 70 year old lady renting out the bedrooms of her children that have moved out.
Every room holds such an atmosphere, with pink and yellow tones, and with a grand woman’s statue, framed pictures on the walls, and furniture that have lasted for ages.
Truly an apartment a space that reflects my soul...
I also end up getting a different room than what I booked, and yet it turns out to be the most beautiful room of them all.
The sunlight shining through the windows, a Jesus book on the bookshelf, a sunflower painting on the wall, mustard colored walls, and a painting of a woman immersed in the woods with a yellow dress on the wall.
God truly prepared this place for me.
And so the mystery journey begins...

- Martine Madeleine

Magisk låvebryllup like utenfor Bergen. Enda bedr

Magisk låvebryllup like utenfor Bergen. Enda bedre er det når det regner akkurat i det man kommer seg inn til bords… Mange gode øyeblikk her, omgitt av familie og venner, lys og varme ✨

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Irene & André (10.08.24)

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