I don't want to forget...

I am intrigued by the place I now find myself, and the time that lies ahead. Three months in Amsterdam... I never would have thought! It's a rare and special gift to be able to re-discover my childhood roots, while at the same time diving deep into the presence of Almighty God. I have a passion to know what's on God's heart, and then live to bring it about. I think one way to know God is through spending a lot of time talking to Him – prayer! That's what I've signed up for over the next 3 months... Of all places and all times, I'm back where I began. This only goes to prove that God is faithful, and He is good – far beyond my understanding! Apparently He knows what He's doing... and it's really exciting to be on board! :)

The past few days have been surreal as I wander the streets of the city, re-living many childhood memories. Living now in downtown Amsterdam is a whole new world; but it feels just like home :) It wasn't long ago that I played in this very place, although memories have faded and some are long gone. It was a little slow at first, but I am beginning to remember the things that sparked my love for travel, the nations, and the peoples of this world. The city is a very special place. It seems like eons ago, yet the pictures are still vivid, and the friendships still exist. I am thankful that time does not erase the past – I wouldn't want to forget the precious moments lived, laughed at, and learned from...

I don't want to forget the time I was playing “hide-and-go-seek” and broke my leg... I know it doesn't seem like the most pleasant memory, but it never fails to get all my siblings laughing and cracking jokes. Most people wonder how I managed to break a leg playing hide-and-go-seek... well, that's the thing; it's quite a story! A pile of dirt, a 5-foot ditch, 10 seconds, and 2 broken bones... crazy; but it's true!

That fateful bridge it happened under...

I don't want to forget Haardstee: the bike sheds out front, the blue and yellow window sills, the courtyard, and all the corners and passages where we used to play as kids... The Amsterdam Arena, Bijlmer metro station, ABN Amro Bank... the list goes on.

Haardstee Apartment

Bijlmer Metro Station

 I don't want to forget the very things that I love so much about the inner city: the people from all over the world – the variation in language and culture. The way the city never sleeps; the crazy Dutch still biking at 3 in the morning! The Dam, Leidse plein, Central Station, Kalverstraat, Saturday markets, koopavond, live music, outdoor cafes, patatje oorlog, trams, buses, confused looks, lost tourists... all in a day's walk.

I've only been in Amsterdam a few days, but memories are flooding my mind. Suddenly I'm painfully aware that a page has been turned and a new season in life has begun. Although I am excited for the things that lie ahead, I hold on to precious moments so recently passed, because I know how easily I forget... Time slips by so quickly and memories rapidly fade, but I am not letting go of what happened this summer. My time back in Cuba was wonderful; I experienced a whole new side of Cuban culture and people. It was fun, it was hard, it was good, and it was hot! I worked in the kitchen, spent time in prayer, and helped cleaning up around camps. The people have such a special place in my heart; as I know they do in God's, too. Although I am half-way around the world for now, I don't want to let the memories disappear...

I don't want to forget the beauty of the island: picturesque beaches, tropical sunsets, lusciously green vegetation, and the waves crashing over the malecon (boardwalk) in La Habana.

I don't want to forget the rickety flight on Cubana Air, which I didn't think would even make it... the tarantulas around our campground, the 4-cent Cuban coffees, 1950 Chevrolet taxis, hamburgers from street vendors, pizzas that taste like cardboard, sweat dripping from every pore, salsa music always within earshot, and the importance of deep-cleaning our bathrooms.

I don't want to forget the looks on the faces of the children whom I gave gifts to. Be it the glimmer in their eyes, the pearly-white smiles plastered on their faces, or the appreciation oozing out of every word they spoke... such simple gifts as soccer balls and silly bands made a world of difference to these kids... What a precious lesson to learn in how to be grateful for all that I have...

I don't want to forget how blessed I am, having had the opportunity to go, to share, to learn and grow. I was so excited to return a second time after having danced the first away. What sweet redemption to go back and see the same friends I met before but with a story to tell them of God's love and faithfulness in my own life.

I don't want to forget the names of those who I grew close to: my family away from home, my friends through thick and thin, strangers who extended a welcoming hand, those whose lives I touched, and those whose lives touched mine.

I don't want to forget the tears I've cried for Cuba, and the many prayers lifted up. I felt like home sweet home while I was there; like I was in a place made just for me :) I worked hard; I did my best. There is a high price to pay in Cuba, but I continue to ask God for amazing things in and through that nation. I hold on to the desire to see a people return to God with all their hearts. And I know that He is up to something big...

I'll never be quite the same; and I don't want to forget all the reasons why...