A far away view of the Zolder - an approprite image given I will never see it from within again. The inside is but a memory and photograph, nothing more. Still, I will never forget it.
I posted on Eric's blog earlier today cause I had this weird feeling that I somehow understood his "work struggle" from three/four years ago. You feel on the outside.
It's weird not being in Amsterdam right now. I see the pictures of packing up and an empty Zolder - a casket of what once was as Eric put it. It's sad to me, much like I'm at a funeral. I'm sad because the Zolder meant so much to me as our HOME there, but also because I wasn't there to help everyone pack up and move on to the next pasture. Somehow, I feel almost like I was never there - like it's a dream.
In Exodus, God leads his people far from the promised land, through the desert, such that they may find HIM first before finding the milk and honey. I wonder if that's where God is taking the Zolder now. Will there be desert ahead and manna on the grass as dew in the morning...? Time will tell I suppose.
For now though, it makes me sad to know I'll never see the inside of that building again. Very sad. Still, this is a time of renewal and growth and challenge. Great things will come I'm sure and that gives me great hope.
Lee, Diane, Todd, Lindy , Eric, Marci, Patricia, Linda, Sam, Theo, JJde, SNde, Wilmy, Naomi, Ned, Daryl, Katy - I know I've forgotten some - there are not many of the original crew left. And yet, the church goes on. How cool.
9.29.2006
9.26.2006
de Krakeling is gone (for us)
Memories. Like fading glimpses into a past like, they are on the top of my mind lately. To read Todd and Eric's blogs make them even more in the forefront of the cerebral cortex.
Memories like this picture of the Krakeling lights on the semi-north side of the building (you can even see Steve in the picture if you look close enough through the bus tailights.) This picture became sort of a legend for me in the thoughts of Amsterdam. It was even used on the Gread & Partners brochure.
Memories like
- walking Amber across the bridge to Brian and Johanna's when the intervention took place
- sitting in the kitchen listening to Todd talk about grace (I was talking with Alex at the time and he seemed almost stunned)
- listening to Chris belt out With or Without You in front of a packed night
- reading the Gospels in 7 different languages
- walking down the steps at our first Easter service
-watching Jayla serve week after week in the Red Light District; reaching out, speaking out and praying out to some very broken women
- sitting in the corner one night at Soul Gathering and just listening to our small choir sing with our hearts on our sleeves - magical
- painting the office for what seemed like days with Lindy, Seth, Jayla and Todd
- meeting with Eric, Todd and Lee to do Making Peace with Your Past
- Shawn faithfully doing the slides and teaching Marco to do the same
- like Eric stepping out or his comfort zone to teach Christ even when speaking in preaching wasn't his greatest gift
- like Lee walking through many valleys only to come out on the other side a stronger and more faithful servant
- like our home group growing from 6 to 8 to 14 to 22 to 38 to 8 to 14
- like watching the Oranje on the projection TV
- like helping to clean the Marnixstraat over and over and over and over
- like looking around the "old church" in what is now the office and wondering about the potential of a smal group of people wanting to change a whole city
- like looking back and thinking "WOW!"
- like stepping on the plane with my wife and 5 month old baby on August 31st, 2005 and thinking I've gained a greater life.
There is no doubt. I've gained so much from so little. Though it makes me so sad that I didn't get to say "goodbye" to the Zolder, I'm sure happy I got to experience it if even for one night. It was gezellig and warm and cozy and most of all, filled with people who wanted nothing more than to do what we called Community.
Memories like this picture of the Krakeling lights on the semi-north side of the building (you can even see Steve in the picture if you look close enough through the bus tailights.) This picture became sort of a legend for me in the thoughts of Amsterdam. It was even used on the Gread & Partners brochure.
Memories like
- walking Amber across the bridge to Brian and Johanna's when the intervention took place
- sitting in the kitchen listening to Todd talk about grace (I was talking with Alex at the time and he seemed almost stunned)
- listening to Chris belt out With or Without You in front of a packed night
- reading the Gospels in 7 different languages
- walking down the steps at our first Easter service
-watching Jayla serve week after week in the Red Light District; reaching out, speaking out and praying out to some very broken women
- sitting in the corner one night at Soul Gathering and just listening to our small choir sing with our hearts on our sleeves - magical
- painting the office for what seemed like days with Lindy, Seth, Jayla and Todd
- meeting with Eric, Todd and Lee to do Making Peace with Your Past
- Shawn faithfully doing the slides and teaching Marco to do the same
- like Eric stepping out or his comfort zone to teach Christ even when speaking in preaching wasn't his greatest gift
- like Lee walking through many valleys only to come out on the other side a stronger and more faithful servant
- like our home group growing from 6 to 8 to 14 to 22 to 38 to 8 to 14
- like watching the Oranje on the projection TV
- like helping to clean the Marnixstraat over and over and over and over
- like looking around the "old church" in what is now the office and wondering about the potential of a smal group of people wanting to change a whole city
- like looking back and thinking "WOW!"
- like stepping on the plane with my wife and 5 month old baby on August 31st, 2005 and thinking I've gained a greater life.
There is no doubt. I've gained so much from so little. Though it makes me so sad that I didn't get to say "goodbye" to the Zolder, I'm sure happy I got to experience it if even for one night. It was gezellig and warm and cozy and most of all, filled with people who wanted nothing more than to do what we called Community.
9.20.2006
a bike rack and some lunch
I've spent the last two days reliving what it meant to ride my bike from my house in the Watergrafsmeer over to Leidsekade 50, the soon to be former home of Zolder50.
I get to the bike rack. Sometimes I would see my friends locking up their bikes too. Sometimes, I'd see no one, but I'm confident others would see me - like Jurren and Steef - laughing at me for one reason or another. Other times, I would be playing a prank on Todd with the face of a doll, and at others I would be the end of the joke. I'd see Lee ride up sweating profusely from his ride (he only knows one speed on the bike - fast.) Once in awhile, I'd see Eric at the rack wondering how we missed each other on the ride. There were even the many times of talking with the neighbor about the scratches on her car caused by our church. The bike rack alone provides me with so many good memories.
My bike locked, I step away and gather my belongings. I pull out my keys and open the door to the office belting out an "hoi, FedEx..." just to get Theo to come to the door. We'd laugh and hug. Around the corner, Steef and Jurren were plugging away. Well, that's another stretch of the truth since Jurren was usually still sleeping or singing, but still. "Bpde, BPde, BPde, BPde" I would hear this at least 100 times a day from Steef. 99 of them I'd laugh.
Theo asks me to get lunch with him, so we walk back out the door, hang a right and head towards Albert Heijn, the impetus of many arguments between Steef and I about which was better - AH or Vomar. Of course he was always right, but it was still fun to argue with him about it.
Theo walked fast. For an almost 60 year old (another stretch of the truth) he had a mission - fresh bread. I loved lunch with Theo, Steef, Jurren, Lee, Brian and Seth. In fact, if I'm realistic about my memories of Amsterdam, lunch with these firends is one of top five greatest. I learned much about and from these brothers during our time together. I learned trivial things like how to eat Filet Americain and oude kaas. But, there was so much more. We shared unbelievable times at lunch. I cried on more than one occasion. I laughed on every occasion. These are memories etched to my very soul.
I get to the bike rack. Sometimes I would see my friends locking up their bikes too. Sometimes, I'd see no one, but I'm confident others would see me - like Jurren and Steef - laughing at me for one reason or another. Other times, I would be playing a prank on Todd with the face of a doll, and at others I would be the end of the joke. I'd see Lee ride up sweating profusely from his ride (he only knows one speed on the bike - fast.) Once in awhile, I'd see Eric at the rack wondering how we missed each other on the ride. There were even the many times of talking with the neighbor about the scratches on her car caused by our church. The bike rack alone provides me with so many good memories.
My bike locked, I step away and gather my belongings. I pull out my keys and open the door to the office belting out an "hoi, FedEx..." just to get Theo to come to the door. We'd laugh and hug. Around the corner, Steef and Jurren were plugging away. Well, that's another stretch of the truth since Jurren was usually still sleeping or singing, but still. "Bpde, BPde, BPde, BPde" I would hear this at least 100 times a day from Steef. 99 of them I'd laugh.
Theo asks me to get lunch with him, so we walk back out the door, hang a right and head towards Albert Heijn, the impetus of many arguments between Steef and I about which was better - AH or Vomar. Of course he was always right, but it was still fun to argue with him about it.
Theo walked fast. For an almost 60 year old (another stretch of the truth) he had a mission - fresh bread. I loved lunch with Theo, Steef, Jurren, Lee, Brian and Seth. In fact, if I'm realistic about my memories of Amsterdam, lunch with these firends is one of top five greatest. I learned much about and from these brothers during our time together. I learned trivial things like how to eat Filet Americain and oude kaas. But, there was so much more. We shared unbelievable times at lunch. I cried on more than one occasion. I laughed on every occasion. These are memories etched to my very soul.
9.19.2006
the ride over (part II)
See previous entry for Part I...
So, by now, I've crossed over the Amstel and am heading Westish towards Leidseplein. Along the way, I'm careful to stop at several major intersections where Dutch bike cops like to enforce the local bike law (especially stopping at red lights and having lights on the bike at night.) I know because I received tickets for both at the same intersection. Oh well.
I pedal in smooth strokes, well, that's stretching the truth a bit since no Dutch bike in Amsterdam really pedals that smooth - or at least not one which has never been stolen. Continuing along I approach Leidseplein, one of the best parts of the city in my opinion. Though filled with tourists and the normal tourist shops and restaurants a tourist would visit, I like it for the action. There are clubs which were once churches, movie theaters which were once outdated movie theaters. There are English Pubs and Mexican restaurants and good steakhouses. It's all a bit silly I suppose, but what I really like is the people.
It's a busy place.
The bike sign on the path tells me I'm in the right place as the columns approach on the left side. To my right is a giant poster announcing "Ray" a the feature film. There are iguana statues lining the walls of the flower garden, I don't remember how many though. I had to count them once for a treasure hunt. I still can't remember if we ever knew.
A tourist walks right in front of me. I ring my bell and chuckle at the absurdity of it all. It's funny. I love this section of the ride.
I'm almost there. It's only a couple hundred meters now until I bank left and head down Leidsekade, bank right and am at the Zolder. Cool.
So, by now, I've crossed over the Amstel and am heading Westish towards Leidseplein. Along the way, I'm careful to stop at several major intersections where Dutch bike cops like to enforce the local bike law (especially stopping at red lights and having lights on the bike at night.) I know because I received tickets for both at the same intersection. Oh well.
I pedal in smooth strokes, well, that's stretching the truth a bit since no Dutch bike in Amsterdam really pedals that smooth - or at least not one which has never been stolen. Continuing along I approach Leidseplein, one of the best parts of the city in my opinion. Though filled with tourists and the normal tourist shops and restaurants a tourist would visit, I like it for the action. There are clubs which were once churches, movie theaters which were once outdated movie theaters. There are English Pubs and Mexican restaurants and good steakhouses. It's all a bit silly I suppose, but what I really like is the people.
It's a busy place.
The bike sign on the path tells me I'm in the right place as the columns approach on the left side. To my right is a giant poster announcing "Ray" a the feature film. There are iguana statues lining the walls of the flower garden, I don't remember how many though. I had to count them once for a treasure hunt. I still can't remember if we ever knew.
A tourist walks right in front of me. I ring my bell and chuckle at the absurdity of it all. It's funny. I love this section of the ride.
I'm almost there. It's only a couple hundred meters now until I bank left and head down Leidsekade, bank right and am at the Zolder. Cool.
9.18.2006
the ride over
It is my understanding that this is one of the last weeks our wonderful and amazing church will actually hold services in the Zolder, the place we have called home for about four years. Now being so far away, I feel out of touch and distant from the situation, but somehow still feel attached to it all. It's weird to be so far away and feel so darn close.
At any rate, it's got me thinking. I'm thinking about so many things regarding the Zolder and all it's meant to me. One such memory is the ride itself.
I would turn left out my door, right up Pythagorasstraat to the canal, go left, turn right on Middeweg (where Theo Van Gogh was shot) ride up around the Tropenmuseum, over the next canal and left again right past my favorite pub - the Groene Oliphant. It was at this point that I had a mostly straight shot to the Zolder.
About half way there, I would zip past the Amstel Hotel and across a bridge which brought me to the other side of the Amstel River itself. It was in this moment that I would often slow down and absorb the view before me (see picture above.) It was a glorious and significant sight. I grew to love it. Jayla and I would sometimes pause on the bridge (usually Jayla would exclaim, "yes, I love this") and we would gaze upon the wonderful sets of canal houses that line it's shore.
I miss this view. I miss this commute. I miss the city and the bikes and people and houses and the community.
It's weird to think this commute will be gone from the memories of so many people in such a short time.
At any rate, it's got me thinking. I'm thinking about so many things regarding the Zolder and all it's meant to me. One such memory is the ride itself.
I would turn left out my door, right up Pythagorasstraat to the canal, go left, turn right on Middeweg (where Theo Van Gogh was shot) ride up around the Tropenmuseum, over the next canal and left again right past my favorite pub - the Groene Oliphant. It was at this point that I had a mostly straight shot to the Zolder.
About half way there, I would zip past the Amstel Hotel and across a bridge which brought me to the other side of the Amstel River itself. It was in this moment that I would often slow down and absorb the view before me (see picture above.) It was a glorious and significant sight. I grew to love it. Jayla and I would sometimes pause on the bridge (usually Jayla would exclaim, "yes, I love this") and we would gaze upon the wonderful sets of canal houses that line it's shore.
I miss this view. I miss this commute. I miss the city and the bikes and people and houses and the community.
It's weird to think this commute will be gone from the memories of so many people in such a short time.
9.15.2006
sometimes you can't make it on your own
I bought the U2 Vertigo Tour DVD last night. I couldn't help it. I like movies. I really do. But, concerts - wow. Concerts bring humans together for sharing if only for a moment in order to bond in music. The rhythm and the soul and jazz and the drums and guitar and the performance. These things unite people.
I especially like the song "Sometimes you can't make it on your own" as Bono comes to the front of the stage, actually takes his glasses off and belts out a tribute to his father. You look in the mirrow and see yourself. You can't make it on your own. My neither.
Maybe that's why I like the song. I realize my infirmity and that makes me humber. I need others and they need me. Is that not the essence of community. I love it.
I especially like the song "Sometimes you can't make it on your own" as Bono comes to the front of the stage, actually takes his glasses off and belts out a tribute to his father. You look in the mirrow and see yourself. You can't make it on your own. My neither.
Maybe that's why I like the song. I realize my infirmity and that makes me humber. I need others and they need me. Is that not the essence of community. I love it.
9.13.2006
a travel photo contest
I just sent this picture into a travel photo contest. It's not the typical travel photo contest, but this picture is one I love. The man is carrying a briefcase/ duffelbag standing in front of this weird parking garage in Denver. He might not be traveling far, but he is traveling. So, I'm curious to see if the judges like the weirdness over the idea that there is some beautiful place to go. Interesting anyway... I'll be laughing on my Hawaiin Cruise if I win.
9.11.2006
5 years today
I had just awoken in Fort Collins, CO. Groggy, I reached over to my cell phone which was ringing my head to wake. It was my friend Mac. "Dude, turn on the TV!" I didn't know how to respond, especially since I had no TV. "A plane just hit one of the Twin Towers in New York." What. I popped up and headed straight for the basement where my computer was online.
I immediately opened www.cnn.com and read about what Mac just told me. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. I couldn't get the news fast enough. I was search in the news relentlessly trying to find out what was happening. Apparently, so were about 250 million other people. The internet was stuck.
I had to work.
I swallowed hard and made the long walk back upstairs to my room, got dressed and hopped in the car. The radio. I turned on the news and listened as witnesses described the smoke billowing from the Twin Towers. At this point, the other plane had already hit and both towers were damaged.
My phone rang again. My dad was on the other line. I started weeping almost uncontrollably. To this day, I'm not sure why it was this phone call that put me over the edge. I wanted to fly to NY immediately. Instead I pulled into the parking lot at work and walked upstairs to my desk.
No one was really talking, more just huddled around the few desks that had radios. Silence. I felt it so real that day. The news caster spoke of smoke and mayhem and mass confusion. Then he said the first of many shocking things that day. People were jumping out of the 90th floor of their buildings to escape the flames. The 90th floor. Tears streamed down my face.
The first tower collapsed. I sat there not thinking, only feeling. There were no words. My heart was coming through my chest. Did I know anyone working in NY. Yes. Were they OK...? I didnt' know.
Still silence. Silence. Silence. Silence. Drip. Drip. Drip, My eyes were soaked with tears.
The second tower collapsed. Silence persisted around the office as no one had anything good to say. It was surreal. 2500 miles away, something terrible and real was happening and I had no idea how to react or how to know what to do. Nothing.
I went home and just thought about the people stuck in the aftermath. I cried and cried and cried thinking of the firefighters and doctors and police officers and nurses and workers and employees. I cried and cried and cried. For three days I cried. I don't think I accomplised anything in those three days. I just read about the people and their families, about the Pentagon and the field in PA near where I went to Grad school.
These were days I'm glad to remember but that I'd love to forget.
I immediately opened www.cnn.com and read about what Mac just told me. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. I couldn't get the news fast enough. I was search in the news relentlessly trying to find out what was happening. Apparently, so were about 250 million other people. The internet was stuck.
I had to work.
I swallowed hard and made the long walk back upstairs to my room, got dressed and hopped in the car. The radio. I turned on the news and listened as witnesses described the smoke billowing from the Twin Towers. At this point, the other plane had already hit and both towers were damaged.
My phone rang again. My dad was on the other line. I started weeping almost uncontrollably. To this day, I'm not sure why it was this phone call that put me over the edge. I wanted to fly to NY immediately. Instead I pulled into the parking lot at work and walked upstairs to my desk.
No one was really talking, more just huddled around the few desks that had radios. Silence. I felt it so real that day. The news caster spoke of smoke and mayhem and mass confusion. Then he said the first of many shocking things that day. People were jumping out of the 90th floor of their buildings to escape the flames. The 90th floor. Tears streamed down my face.
The first tower collapsed. I sat there not thinking, only feeling. There were no words. My heart was coming through my chest. Did I know anyone working in NY. Yes. Were they OK...? I didnt' know.
Still silence. Silence. Silence. Silence. Drip. Drip. Drip, My eyes were soaked with tears.
The second tower collapsed. Silence persisted around the office as no one had anything good to say. It was surreal. 2500 miles away, something terrible and real was happening and I had no idea how to react or how to know what to do. Nothing.
I went home and just thought about the people stuck in the aftermath. I cried and cried and cried thinking of the firefighters and doctors and police officers and nurses and workers and employees. I cried and cried and cried. For three days I cried. I don't think I accomplised anything in those three days. I just read about the people and their families, about the Pentagon and the field in PA near where I went to Grad school.
These were days I'm glad to remember but that I'd love to forget.
9.07.2006
too busy
i'm doing a study right now with a little group in stapleton on "trying vs. training" - it's a pretty good study though a bit shallow at times. nonetheless, it's been valuable.
yesterday was funny though. the weeks chapter and exercises were on the practice of solitude. it explained how busy we are and why we run around so much. not jesus. yeah, he's busy, but not a busybody. he takes walks and finds his resting place.
needless to say, i read the chapter in about 10 minutes during a pseudo lunchbreak. then i laughed.
yesterday was funny though. the weeks chapter and exercises were on the practice of solitude. it explained how busy we are and why we run around so much. not jesus. yeah, he's busy, but not a busybody. he takes walks and finds his resting place.
needless to say, i read the chapter in about 10 minutes during a pseudo lunchbreak. then i laughed.
9.05.2006
Reaching for More
I've been out of action for a couple weeks now, as school has started (www.scienceandtech.org) and I've been too busy to care much about my blog. Honestly, it felt kind of good not to worry about it.
I would like to think there are thousands of people out there dying to read my blog every day, but it's really only a few who check it. I aplogize to those who have not seen anything new for awhile. Hopefully, I can start posting twice or thrice a week as to create a bit more balance in my blogging habit.
Anyway, I've really enjoyed my new job and think it's close to perfect for me. There is challenge, intrigue, opportunity for learning, chance for influence and realtionship building. It's great. I struggle from time to time not knowing where my path is in the middle of this, but I'm quite certain that it's to glorify Christ at all times. I hope I can reach out my hand to those who need it and through such action, show the love that's beyond my own.
I would like to think there are thousands of people out there dying to read my blog every day, but it's really only a few who check it. I aplogize to those who have not seen anything new for awhile. Hopefully, I can start posting twice or thrice a week as to create a bit more balance in my blogging habit.
Anyway, I've really enjoyed my new job and think it's close to perfect for me. There is challenge, intrigue, opportunity for learning, chance for influence and realtionship building. It's great. I struggle from time to time not knowing where my path is in the middle of this, but I'm quite certain that it's to glorify Christ at all times. I hope I can reach out my hand to those who need it and through such action, show the love that's beyond my own.
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