I'm remembering back to Ouarda's wedding today. It was so lovely. Thoroughly Moroccan, meaning fabulous food, dancing, music, and most important gorgeous dresses... yet set in the Netherlands. It was a joy to be there. May you have many happy years of marriage Ouarda and Hamid!
My "no brain power needed" book of the week is "The Knife of Never Letting Go" by Patrick Ness .. some young adult fiction Amanda recommended. YA is so good when you have a pile of other books that you really need to read and all you want is a bit of something other. I don't know if it's good yet but it's actually provided a lot of food for thought.. and I'm not even a third of the way in. It takes place in a world where there are only men and they can all hear each others "noise" and the main character is the last boy in this town. And one day he discovers a hole in the noise, he discovers quiet. Having lived his whole life hearing the thoughts of the men around him, their "noise," he is overcome by the unexpected"quiet" and has no idea what to do.
Well, I can't hear it, that's the whole point, but when I run towards it the emptiness of it is touching my chest and the stillness of it pulls at me and there's so much quiet in it, no not quiet, silence, so much unbelievable silence that I start to feel really torn up, like I'm about to lose the most valuable thing ever, like there it is, a death, and I'm running and my eyes are watering and my chest is just crushing and there's no one to see but I still mind and my eyes start crying, they start crying, they start effing crying, and I stop for a minute and I bend over and Jesus H Dammit, you can just shut up right now, but I waste a whole stupid minute, just a whole stinking, stupid minute bent over there, by which time, of course, the hole is moving away, it's moved away, it's gone.
This "hole" is later revealed to be a girl. This discover of quiet puts his life in danger and he's forced to flee for his life. So far the book looks to be an interesting social commentary, which coupled with the prevailing presence of large amounts of trash piled around Amsterdam due to the trash collector strike and the images of the still uncontainable oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, has made me keenly aware, yet again of the mess we humans have made of the word and of our lives. We are so in need of cleansing, the cleansing of Jesus' grace and love.
We had our first baptism today at a lovely little Christian community house that had a super nice chapel, including the all important baptismal! It was fun to be in a quaint little place like that, worship together, hear C's testimony, and witness her baptism. It was such a joy to celebrate with her, to see her in so many words say, "Yes, I am throwing my life in with Jesus, I want to be identified with Him forever, and I want to be cleansed and whole."
I know Amsterdam is in need of new life from the weight of this trash, the Gulf of Mexico and the animals affected by the spill, and myself and the whole of the world. Noise and trash: reminders of the decadence of life and the need of a Savior.
I am always exhausted by the time Sunday afternoon comes around. The good kind of tired that radiates out through your body while gifting you with lovely memories. On Sunday mornings I get to do church. My experience of "church" over the past few years, I'm sure, has seriously screwed me up for life.
Church to me has become very messy oh so much fun. Especially since most of my experience of "church" does not happen on Sundays at 11.00 but all throughout the week with people who ask fabulous questions, say things that I promptly run how to write down, and who are ultimately seeking truth.
Yet Sunday mornings are pretty fun in and of themselves! Today I woke, took artwork off my walls, a plate out of the cupboard, tulips, and fabric and cycled 10 minutes to the building we rent twice a month. It's owned by a sweet Christian charity. The first part of set up involves taking down all the nice but slightly intimidating large print paintings of Moses or Abraham or white Jesus. Then out come the artwork, masses of tea and coffee, cookies, flowers, and music equipment. We have a stand up sign that is put out on the sidewalk (chained to a pole with a bike lock). Soon afterward, John entered with a large rolling suitcase full of kids toys that he's brought with him on the tram, and the musicians come in with guitars and drums they've balanced on their bike handle bars. Today even Manuel came with his keyboard. By 10.45 the kids area is set up, the coffee is hot, "Brown Feathered Sparrow" is playing through the speakers, and friendly people are welcoming at the doors.
We worship in Dutch and English while sipping coffee and tea (yes this plays a significant role throughout the service!). Today Julia taught on Jesus' encounter with the Samaritan woman and how we are called to help others encounter Jesus. It was excellent as usual but today's message was especially poignant for me. She spoke on how Jesus was a boundary crosser. He was always going where no one else would (a Samaritan village.. talking to a woman! Insane at that time period). And Julia, said .. "God is not afraid of people who don't believe in him... he's not afraid to go to them and engage them." That really hit me. Who is it that I'm afraid to go to, that I'm afraid to look straight in the eye? Who is Jesus calling me to cross over to?
And she spoke about how Jesus was a bridge builder.. how he was rooted deep in the Kingdom of God on one side but then he walks over a long bridge to love and engage winsomely with people who don't know him and then walks with them back over the bridge to his Kingdom. She concluded by saying that in the midst of following Jesus' example and doing the hard work of crossing borders, we are then asked to wait patiently. Wait patiently for God to reveal himself, for God to save. We get to take part but only God can be the cherry on the top which transforms the whole ice cream sunday.
The service is concluded with a mass "clean up" which is just as fun because as the music plays in the background, I'm sweeping floors and washing cups with people who are family. Finally as I lock the door and cycle away, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember it all. Remember it forever. Then I head home for a nap!
Sitting in my messy apartment with no one coming over that day (thus no pressure to clean), I was listening to a lovely music mix, thinking about a conversation I had the day before, and soaking in the sun. And it dawned on me how lovely it is to be in community. Not just because it's fun and life giving and Jesus was all about it or because I become angry and cynical without it, but because community gives me the permission not to try to be good at everything (which I can't be anyway). Being an oldest child, overly responsible, self critical, perfectionist is so hard sometimes. I always wish I were better at more things. More of a renaissance woman.
For example... music. I do not have an ear for music, not in the slightest. I enjoy listening to music when it's given to me, or someone tells me what's good but I can sit in a cafe and not pay any attention to what's playing (it's like white noise to me). I wish it weren't. I wish I had impeccable music taste like my friend Allie, I would like to read snobby music blogs (I think people who do are so stinking cool), I would like to be able to drum, or sing the lyrics to a song I remember from 9th grade... but I can't do any of those things and I know I'll never do any of those things... and I realize I'm completely fine with that because I know people who do instead. And I love hearing from Allie or Julia or Mark or the other music savvy people I know about good music and funny blog posts, or listening to amazing drummers, and laughing when someone hums an old school song. I will never be that, and why should I when I know so many people who do it so well?
Or why should I flip out when it takes me hours and hours to design a business card on indesign ... when I can email a friend who in a flash designs a slick map for the back of the card and I can just plop it in. And instead of feeling jealous (though I still do a tad), I think, "wow, I am so glad I'm in community".... where I know people who work wonders with adobe software or make the most sublime music mixes, or preach the most eloquent heart stirring sermons, or write fabulous articles on good theology, or spell really well..... or make the best popcorn. Um... never mind maybe I would like to learn to make the best popcorn... but then, maybe I wouldn't enjoy it as much! Ok, I'll let John be the best at that! As long as I get my weekly fill.
I've been applying to graduate programs here in Amsterdam. Is there something I can study now that would help me do something later that I would love? So, I decided to check out some graduate programs. I could go part time, meet new people, learn, be inspired, etc. Lovely Holland may even be willing to give me a grant or a portion of the fee to attend. Questions arise. English speaking? Dutch? Combo? I found out that I can follow a dutch taught masters in Art History or Comparative Art and still write my papers in English. Now that may just be the winning duo. As these thoughts have been on my mind, my friend Kelly came to visit and I tried to host her well in the midst of sending off applications, begging professors who I haven't seen in 7 years to write me recommendations. We had a lovely time despite the turmoil. I mean, it's finally sunny... how can you go wrong?
I did discover a way to give digital photos the essence of a Polaroid photo. Now that was a good find... except that it makes me slightly sad now that I rarely use my real Polaroid land camera, with photos that pop out on real paper which you have to really shake, no longer seems that novel. Oh the joys and heartache of technology.
Tonight I'm heading to Den Haag to celebrate Adrienne's birthday! What a completely utter joy it is having her and her husband Nic so close. When I am with them I realize what a gift it is to be with people you have history with, people with whom you can sit and say nothing or say lots and laugh about things that happened 10 years ago. Now, I no longer have many friends who I've known that long. Only a few.
This is a bit of a rambling post. But that explains my brain of late. I had a dream last night about my friends Tara and Jimmy's wedding. She was wearing a red and pink empire style dress, he was in a cream suit, I was sitting cross legged on the floor with my friends Brian and Lorah. Brian was holding Lily Zappin (a baby of a friend, who I have yet to meet in person), while the person sitting behind me was giving me an amazing shoulder massage. Oh the life!
Happy weekend!
"fake Polaroid"
"real" Polaroid
So we planned our first baptism for today, Easter Sunday and then sadly had to cancel due to insane rain and cold... But that didn't keep us from enjoying the day and each other! I'll never forget this sweet Easter!
Sweet Pauline prepping dessert
Kelly my dear friend who flew in to see me Friday and the next thing she knows is whipping up a feast for 30+ people!
My living room on Easter Sunday! I love being the rain location! Super fun and always full of unexpected adventure!
