Part of my heart is in
the windows of Amsterdam. The windows of the Red Light Districts. Although not
the windows per se, but the women each of those windows represent. Women whose
identity is “everlastingly loved by God and beautifully created by Him”, and
being daughters, sisters, wives, mothers, friends. Women who are not
“prostitutes” because their occupation doesn’t define them.
It’s been three years
since the women in those windows were part of my every day. Three years since I
got on a plane with a ton of luggage, making yet another move towards what is
now home here in Norway. This seems to be the month of walking down memory
lane, and so I figure I might as well take little walk through the streets of
Amsterdam...
Some windows are
empty; representing women who were but are no longer in them. Women who have
taken steps and are now living lives of dignity, bringing life instead of
slowly dying on the inside. Some windows remind me of the times when I was
invited into their pain, and where tears and comfort marked our encounter, and
where hopefully the encounter ended leaving the woman feeling a little less
alone and a little more loved. And some windows remind me of church. The moments
when the curtains were closed to the curious looks and interested clients, and
we could do church right there in the window.
Remembering how dark
the streets and the rooms behind the windows were, and strangely how much
easier it made it to bring light and be light. Someone once said “if you want
to find God, go to the darkest places. That’s where He is.” And His light in us
shines that much brighter when we choose to step into the dark places.
My thoughts frequently
wander back to Amsterdam. Not so much the ministry or the city, but the people
I got to know and love; both those who went from being acquaintances in the
windows, to becoming good friends and sisters; and those who tirelessly battled
with me in stepping into the darkness, determined to see love win!