Christmas in Amsterdam

every so often i have moments when i can´t quite really believe that i live in Amsterdam – and that i live in a house like the one you see in the pictures of here. and spending Christmas in Amsterdam feels a bit surreal.

for me, the weeks leading up to Christmas (i.e. Advent) were filled with a lot of longing for things to be different. i was homesick, wishing that i could share in the big events happening in my family´s life. the house/community was going through a bit of a difficult time living with each other. most of the volunteers were going away for Christmas. my Dutch is still poor enough that a lot has to be translated for me. in visiting Ukraine, i was reminded by how much of a struggle life there can be – and of the sadness of the church situation (and the resulting situation in my old school).
All of those events/memories mixed with the words and songs of Advent: the familiar passages of Isaiah and Luke, the songs in minor keys while speaking of hope and deliverance. Advent was time of being honest about the sadness of the broken world, while looking forward to things being different – looking forward to Christ coming again.

and then came Christmas Eve. and i got to celebrate it in the Oude Kerk – the same church i had been attending for most of Advent. and the church that had barely a hundred people in it on Sunday morning was packed with more than i could count. and as we participated in hearing and singing, the promise of Christ´s coming filled me. i had remembered the sadness/brokenness of the world around me for weeks. but now i remember that there is something greater than that sadness. as surely as Christ came to earth the first Christmas, He will surely come again and bring an end to the brokenness. so how can i not be overfilled with joy?

and the joy continued when i arrived back at the house around 11:30. the sign outside was being changed. we had hot chocolate and blue and white sprinkles on rusks (to celebrate the birth of a boy). we wished each other Merry Christmas. chatted about our church services and life in general. at 12:02 (the clock being a bit late in the common area), we sang happy birthday to Zr. Annemieke. and the joy of being with the family of God getting to celebrate the promise in Christ`s coming was the kind of joy that Christmas is made up of.

the next day (Christmas day) was a big breakfast, another church service, hearing the Christmas story (in half a dozen languages in honour of all of the languages present currently in the house). a restful afternoon of visiting people and going for a bike ride on relatively quiet streets. and then a phenomenal Christmas dinner for 32 with about eight courses – at least half a dozen people in the house had spent hours and hours on it. and the food was amazing – and there was laughter and fellowship. and it was good. but somehow the overwhelming joy and hope of the previous evening wasn´t quite as strong: it was harder to hold on to that hope while also loving family members who are struggling with belonging, with figuring out what to do with one´s life and who are thinking about other family members who don´t know the real joy of Christmas. and as much as this meal was amazing – and as much as i have the joy of knowing my ´family´ here and my family back home loves me, maybe i just missed helping out my sisters and mom in the kitchen back home – and our dinner table conversation mixed with laughter, people interrupting, and an inevitable discussion of some bodily function.

and on the second day of Christmas, i´ve taken some more time for quiet. i´ve been asked to look after the cats. and in so doing i think i´ve been given a bit of a Christmas present: full access for a week to an apartment/house with an out-of-tune piano, a bathtub (a rarity - only the third i´ve seen in four months!), a washing machine, and a television. so this morning started with reading e-mail, feeding the cats, taking a bath, playing some Christmas carols and then joining the house for a late breakfast. and the joy of Christmas has now settled into a quiet peacefulness. Jesus is come. He is the answer to the brokenness. how can my heart not sing for joy?