The Tale of the Alternate Airport

All airports are areas of amazing adventure. Our journey across the water began in Schiphol (Amsterdam Airport) and ended in MSP (Minnepolis-St. Paul, which is Minnesota), but it was the stops in between which make the tale complete of course, since we did not fly from Amsterdam to Minnesota. No, in the effort made by many these days (remember the days of consulting a travel agent?) to make flying more affordable, we had booked a cheaper flight, which meant more flights. 

I must apologize that we have no pictures of this part of our travels (these are not mine). We were too busy getting from one place to another. We flew from Schiphol to London Heathrow early in the morning. In London we enjoyed the hospitality of this mega-airport for a short time before stepping on the plane to Ney York City’s John F. Kenndy airport. A short 6 hours or so (and several movies on our personal media device) later, we landed in the Big Apple – and there began our biggest adventure. 

We had planned a flight from Newark airport to Minneapolis. For those of you who do not know, Newark is in New Jersey, which is the next state over from New York. “No problem”, thought I, “New York City and Newark are actually right next to each other and flow into one another.” And we had more than four hours on a layover to get from one to the other. We had landed at midday and our flight wasn’t leaving until after 5pm. As long as there were no problems with the bus we had arranged to get us from one airport to the next, their would be no problems at all. 

And that is when adventures truly begin. When everything is going as planned, adventure is waiting, watching for the moment to jump in and make things exciting. It is when things begin to fall apart, depart from the plan, that adventure smiles broadly and makes an entrance. And so too with our trip. 

The bus was called and would arrive within 45 minutes. We sat waiting, watching the various peoples that congeal and disapate in laughter and conversation, welcoming parents from their trip, screaming in delight at seeing one another after many months or years. A girl’s volleyball team loudly saying goodbye to each other as they went their separate ways. Several Jewish families waiting patiently to be picked up. A southern couple drawling about what they had seen and would tell to the grandkids. 

And we waited. Our flight was to leave at 5:30pm, but we knew we would still need to go through customs and get to the gate once we made it to the airport. We figured (and had checked out) that midday traffic across town would not be bad and we should be able to make the trip in 90 minutes. So if the bus came by 2pm at least, eveyrthing would be fine. But it was now 2 o’clock and the bus had not yet arrived. 

After waiting 2 hours, the bus finally arrived, having already passed our entrance and needing to drive completely around the airport again to arrive back at our entrance. Together with a man who was outwardly showing what we were feeling inside, we handed our luggage to the driver who would load it on the van. All of the luggage (the van was full of passengers) had been tossed higgeldy-piggeldy in the bag of the van, piled up like the stack a young child makes when cleaning up their toys. 

The van departed into what was now quickly becoming rush hour traffic – in New York City! “Are we heading into that traffic?” one passenger exclaimed with anguish. We tried not to worry, knowing that, whatever happened, we would be okay. We looked for things that Sean and Jill might see on a regular day, names of places we had heard them mention. We thrilled at crossing the Verazzano Narrows bridge. And when the van came to a car-pool lane and passed by all the still-standing traffic, we all breathed a sigh of relief. 

In the end, we – as the last ones out of the van, after the driver had to undo his toy-stack with each departing passenger – arrived at our terminal, ran to our gate and stood in line for the security check (shoes off, belt off, change out, computer out etc). It was 5pm and our flight would board at 5:05pm. In the row in front of us, two women jovially discussed their work. They too, were on their way to Minneapolis and seemed not worried in the least. 

It turns out the plane was slightly delayed and we had time to grab something to eat from an airport store. We even enjoyed another sit down watching the people who would board with us. This would be a slightly shorter flight and we were planning on sleeping. It had been almost 24 hours since we woke to go to the airport. When we arrived in Minneapolis, we were met by Dale Hawley’s friendly face. He took us to our hotel (we would be leaving for Iowa the next morning), gave us the keys to his car and bade us good night. 

We had survived and enjoyed another amazing adventure. We have learned, time and again, that even if things do not work out as we expected or hoped, they work out. God is with us wherever we go. Which is why we simply look out for how we can be an encouragement to those around us and enjoy the ride. But the ride – that is the next tale. 

Tales of Travels

In the coming days I will attempt to update you on our travels and visits why we are in the US. I am still learning how to use a smartphone and have never been good at selfies, so any pictures you see of us were probably taken by others. But we will try to share some pictures as well, so keep an eye on our photo site if you are interested in those. 

We start with “The Tale of the Hotel/Motel” 

Our trip began before we ever stepped foot on an airplane. First we had to get to the amazing flying machine. This is the tale of how that came to be and what ensued. 

Early in the morning we were already rushing about, scrambling and scurrying as one does at the last minute. The house had to be made ready to lay dormant for two whole months. 

Surprisingly, an amazing amount of work needs to be done for dormancy – perhaps a bear would know about things like that. Everything needed vacuumed (well, not everything, but you get the idea), foodstuffs had to be put away or eaten, dusting, wiping, scrubbing and bed-making-upping had to be finished. You see, the vacancy will only be partial. Halfway through our absence, the house will receive guists. At the end of our time away, just before we return, good friends will also enjoy the house. So everything had to be ready to use, but as empty as possible. 

By midday we were as ready as we were going to be, and anyway our ride to the train station had arrived. Yes, we were taking the train to the airport. Once at the station we figured out how best to motivate our bags along – this was something we would be doing a lot of, so we had to discover the best method. We had done well in keeping our bags to a minimum, though not a bare minimum – we were after all going to be gone for two months, beginning in the Spring and ending in the heat of summer. But balancing one little bag on a big bag and rolling the other two worked quite well. 

On the train we had to be careful tht the rolling bags didn’t run away, but we arrived at Schiphol with no real drama. It had been a pleasant if not quiet ride (we sat in the area meant for bicycles). At the airport we had arranged to have our hotel pick us up at the airport (yes, we were already doing a hotel and had not even flown one foot). Since our flight was very early, and we would have to be very very early to be on time, we had decided to spend the night in Zwanenburg. 

A city of swans – that is what one imagines. And once we found the water, we were not disappointed. Which was more than we could say about our hotel, which was actually a motel. Mind you, the town itself is very quaint and quiet. Our room at the hotel had to be accessed via an outside door, past other hotel guests enjoying the late evening sunlight and then opening our door into our room. But we had a room and we were thankful. 

Plus, we had swans, and shoarma, and seats. This was important after we had taken a short walk around Zwanenburg and then into Halfweg, walking halfway into Scott’s memory of when he used to bike past this area on his way to Dutch lessons in Amsterdam. Walking down memory lane is always energizing, but we hadn’t eaten since leaving home, so we were very pleased to find a shoarma restaurant open and serving. 

Back at the hotel we were frustrated to find the internet not working. Most of society today runs on the internet and we still had to check in to our flight. But that would have to wait for the next day, which was fast arriving and would come even faster for us. We awoke at 4:30 and got everything ready for the bus to the airport which would leave at 5:30 for our flight at 7:30. Sitting near the check-in desk meant that we had internet, so all was right with the world, just as the bus arrived, loaded our luggage and we departed in the cool morning sunrise of the Netherlands, on our way to America, via Great Britain. But that is another tale. 

Family!

As we prepare to head off for two months, we are reminded again of the things that are so important and real in our lives. The apostle Peter said to Jesus, “We have left all we had to follow you!” Jesus replied, “No one who has left home or wife or brothers or sisters or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of Godwill fail to receive many times as much in this age, and in the age to come eternal life.”

People here are almost flabbergasted when we mention that we will be gone for two months – until we explain where we will go and who we will see. Then it is often surprise that we are welcomed in so many placesby people we don’t even know. And truly, it is wonderful to know that we have family all over the world. And while we are very much looking forward to hugging on our boys’ necks, seeing our daughters-in-lawagainand seeing our blood relatives, we are also so thankful that we will be able to see brothers and sisters in Christ whomwe have not seen for quite a while and meet new parts of the family all over the US.

But before we get to see everyone on that side of the water, we have been spending time with our family here. As I wrote earlier this year, blessings come in all sorts of packages, including painful ones. It has been beautiful to see how we as a family in Maastricht can help one another when a member loses a loved one, when a dreaded diagnosis is given, or when a daily reality of living with a spouse antagonistic to faith hits again. We are here for one another. 

We have also been spending these last couple weeks trying to take care of everything that needs to keep going while we are gone. We will jump into a week of camp three days after we arrive back in Belgium, so lessons and plans need to be in place already. We want to make the most of relationships with people we have been talking to about God’s love, so we have spent time around the table in conversations. And the grass finally needs to be mowed and the weeds on the driveway pulled. 

In March Shirley enjoyed the ladies retreat in Germany. Scott held another singing workshop, this time in Eindhoven where Scott and Shirley go every third Wednesday for singing. We enjoyed several Monday evening studies with brothers and sisters as well as several other Wednesday studies at our home. 

These are the kinds of things we also look forward to in our travels in the coming months. Scott will offer a song workshop in Muscatine and Denver, will share thoughts and views on Bible camps and missions and will, together with Shirley, talk about how God has brought us this far and how He wants to use all of us. We look forward to seeing you in the US. Please let us know if we can hook up when we are in your neck of the woods. Family is very important to us.