I like life.
I am not deserving.
I am blessed.
These thoughts consume me on a daily basis. Nothing seems more absurd right now then reminding myself that John and I have lived in Amsterdam for nearly ten months. Writing that the time has flown by is simply an understatement and I feel confident that this time in our marriage is truly a gift from the Lord. Who knew I could like McElroy as much as I do?!?!
Our life in Amsterdam is pretty simple and I like that too. A typical Saturday consists of sleeping in, eating the best ham and cheese croissants from the bakery on the corner of our canal, going to the local street market, walking around the city and then cooking dinner. Unfortunately, we have had only a handful of these Saturdays. We have been beyond blessed with several visitors and ironically it’s McElroy who keeps our travel schedule pretty tight. It is funny, of the two of us, one would think John majored in Tourism.
As the European Crisis continues, John and I feel fortunate to work for US companies. My Tourism degree (thanks mom and dad) is finally being put to good use as I now work for a company in the aviation industry. We were both enrolled in Dutch classes at our offices and while John may be able to tell time better than I can, I think my Dutch is far superior (which in all honesty is not saying a lot). My favorite phrase that the Dutch like to tell little children when they ask the notorious “Why”… Waarom zijn de bananan krom? Why are the bananas crocked?
While I admit, this Texas girl longs for warmer weather and longer days, I liked wearing winter coats, fires in the evenings, hot wine, “going home” for Christmas, skiing the French Alps, witnessing Pace “experience” snow and walking on the frozen canal in front of our house. These are memories I will tuck away and hope not to experience again until next winter.
I truly believe that the Lord rewards the work of our hands, if not here on Earth but in Heaven; however, my hands have done nothing to deserve this. I often ask Him, “Why?” I am sure He smiles, looks at me and gently whispers, “My dearly loved child, waarom zijn de bananan krom?”
