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Noises of the city.

Noises of the city. The sound of children laughing. Cars. Sirens. The constant buzz of the city.

I sit in the watchtower. Once used to watch for enemies, now used to watch and pray. The city is so near, yet so far below. The sun is setting and the sky is yellow, orange pink. Beauty. Pure beauty over a city of people who are loved.

Church spires break the horizon. Reminders that there are ones who love God... Smoke from a factory chimney, a reminder that someone is working. Even on a Sunday people are working instead of resting...

Windows. I wonder what the stories of those who live there are? The pale blue apartment complex or the stone brick building next to it with a window bricked shut. What are they thinking? What is going on in their hearts? Jesus loves this city because he loves people. I wonder what He sees as He looks at Amsterdam? Does He see light or more darkness? Hope or hopelessness? What moves His heart when He looks at this place?

The sun has almost set. The colours are getting more intense. Soon it will be dark, yet the noise of the city continues... a sign of life, although is it representative of true life or just people trying to survive...

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