One Year

On Monday, it will have been one year since Pieter and I flew out for the Netherlands for the very first time. Pieter has not been in the United States for a year now. I visited Brethren Woods this evening for their annual Christmas party. It was so great to see everyone and celebrate the birth of Christ with friends that feel like family to me. My husband and I have a sentimental connection to that camp and always will, because that is where we met.

It was August of 2012, I hugged Pieter good bye and thought I would never see that tall Dutch man again. Of course, he had no idea I had a crush on him, but even then, in my heart, I knew he was someone very special. If only we knew then how many good bye’s we would share in our future together.

As I drove down the driveway away from camp tonight, I fell apart. My body ached as the tears fell. I thought to myself “My husband is supposed to be here with me right now.” I cried out to God saying “Why me?” and begged Him to “Please bring my husband home to me”. I was heading home to an empty house. I tried to think of anywhere else I could go or someone I could call.

As I regained composure, I went through my phone and began listening to every Christian song I had on there. As my heart was in pain, the words of those songs gave me peace and comfort as I drove home. I felt God speaking to me through the lyrics and although I did not have anyone to talk to or anywhere to go, I felt great relief in knowing that God is always present. In my time of trouble, He was there.


No, this is not an easy time for myself or my husband. Certain days are better than others. Holidays and big events can be lonely and emotional, but through Christ, we find strength. As we look into the coming year of 2016, we are hopeful. Pieter’s visa application is in the process of being completed and will take up to 60 days to be finalized. From there, he will set up an interview and begin his final preparations for returning to the U.S. Our journey through this is not over yet, but we do believe that there is an end in sight.

One of many sunset pictures taken at camp. 

Discouraging News

All the Christmas tunes say it best_ “I’ll be home for Christmas” and “There’s no place like home for the Holidays”. I decided to return to America for a short stay to visit family and refresh my winter wardrobe before flying back to the Netherlands at the end of December.

So, here I am, back in the U.S. for just a few weeks, or so I thought. . .

How does a person make two huge visa mistakes in one year? It really gets complicated when you are going back and forth across the Atlantic so many times. This was my sixth time across the ocean in a course of 12 months. While I have become a professional at navigating airports, going through security, and staying occupied on a long flight, I have not gotten the hang of these visa guidelines. For anyone that was wishing I was staying longer than five weeks, your wish came true!

As I was making plans for my return flight at the end of December, I came across the “180 day rule” for visiting the Netherlands and other European countries. For every 90 days (by the way, I stayed 107 days) that a person visits the Netherlands they are to wait 90 days before returning. I will not be eligible for returning to the Netherlands until the end of February. Even then, my seventeen day overstay will pose an issue. Re-entry will be a challenge whenever I do decide to go back.

My heart is bitter and torn with regrets. I am striving to stay positive through it all and strong for both my husband and I, but it is difficult. Pieter and I kissed goodbye at the airport in Brussels thinking we would reunite just 42 days after that, but it will be much much longer now.

Our life together in Aagtekerke was wonderful. I had grown to love living in the Netherlands, the country that is such a big part of my husband’s history. We had so many plans for the year of 2016 that we would spend together. Greeting him when he got home from work was always my favorite thing. He was gone all day and I spent time cleaning, doing school assignments, packing his lunch for the next day, and preparing dinner for the two of us. I guess everything was going too well.

While our (American) visa process has shown great progress the past few weeks, we have come across a small bump in the road that may cause the progress to come to a halt. This reality scares both Pieter and I as our time together rests solely on this visa now. It may be March when we are able to reunite again, but it may take until June or July. The time of our separation is indefinite. The thought of that makes me cringe.

All I can ask now, our only hope, is constant prayer that the visa process for my husband will progress quickly.

All we can do now is hope and pray that Pieter is able to return here soon.

As It All Comes Together

Life in Aagtekerke, NL is going well! I have gotten more comfortable shopping on my own, but have yet to figure out the most appropriate way to let people know I do not fully understand their language. Is “I don’t speak Dutch” accompanied by an apology acceptable? Or should I just go with it and speak English, hoping they catch on?! I have become familiar with the series of questions asked by the supermarket cashier, but I still get nervous that they will need answers other than “yes” or “no” or the common “thank you”. I still feel quite self conscious of my cultural differences here, but I have developed an appreciation for some of the quirky Dutch ways.

Once Pieter and I started to build a little life here together with a car, small home, and electrical bike of our own, we started trusting God and giving Him control and we ended up receiving some good news!

With the news of Pieter’s visa paperwork being accepted, the idea of getting back to America has become so much more real to us. We are not in the planning stages yet, but anticipate hearing more positive news in the weeks to come. Next, we send in financial documents and complete Pieter’s actual Visa application. If all goes smoothly, these next few processes should not take nearly as long as the first one did. So, you do the math!

I have gotten settled into a nice routine here in my Dutch life. We feel overwhelmingly blessed to have found a beautiful and affordable cottage to rent for a few months. It has given us space to appreciate our time of being a young couple again. I believe it was only by God’s great provision that we found a place where we can both be comfortable. 

We spend our weekends biking to nearby villages as Pieter shows me around. Saturday mornings are spent visiting a nearby produce stand and going grocery shopping with my extensive shopping list. Pieter has made a detailed monthly budget for us and has been working so hard everyday to make money to support us. I honestly do not know how he does it, but I am thankful to have found a guy with such great work ethic. My week is spent keeping house and I love it… to an extent. Some days the dishes, laundry, and cleaning really gets to me, but my days of working every day will come again soon enough as I anticipate finishing my degree and working full-time once we are back in America.

We have roots here now and I will miss the Netherlands when the day comes that we have to say goodbye to all the simplicity here.

Biking on a beautiful day!

Our special Saturday morning breakfast after a long week.

Bountiful gathering from the local produce stand.

Yodel-aye-hee-hoo!

"An Austrian went yodeling on a mountain top high, when along came a Jersey cow interrupted his cry. . ." A classic camp song that has been stuck in my head the entire time I have been visiting the beautiful country of Austria.

During this adventure I have felt incredibly blessed to be a small part of this continent of Europe. I am thankful for this opportunity as so many people do not get to see beyond their own comfort zone.
"There's too much world and not enough time to see it all"
_ I watched the mountains grow larger as we drove through Switzerland on our way to Austria this amazing realization crossed my mind.

The road to Fort Valley, Virginia would seem like a short stroll in the park after the mountains I have zig-zagged up and down here. My favorite landmark we visited was the White Lake. The water was crystal as it tumbled down the mountain, melting from the glaciers. The lake looked as if a mermaid could pop out of the water any minute. There was a magicalness away from reality that enveloped me in it's beauty.

In my short time here we saw snow glaciers, listened to a German marching band, took a tour of a castle built in the 1200's, went mountain biking for 15 miles (which made me feel more alive than I have felt in years), rode on a cable car for the first time, went down the Fiss Flitzer (which was a terrifyingly wonderful experience), and visited Samnauen, Switzerland and Reschen, Italy.

I have settled into the embrace of these large mountainous rocks. I can only imagine how exposed I will feel when I return to the Netherlands this weekend. I love being able to look out the window and see into a deep valley and look for miles to see mountain top after mountain top surrounding me.

Pieter and I hope to make coming to this part of Europe a tradition for our anniversary. We'll see where life takes us! For now_ Farewell Austria, I hope to visit you again in the coming years!

Austrian mountains

The White Lake 

The hike around White Lake

Snowy mountain tops in Italy

Church tower in Italy

To Germany!

Through the Netherlands, Belgium, France, Luxembourg, Switzerland, and Germany we made it to Rickenbach, Germany on Saturday afternoon. It was surreal for me to ride through those foreign countries. While most of the sights were open fields, mountain ranges, and roads, we did pass a beautiful castle in the distance and some French and Swiss homes that are unique and adorable like little doll houses. My mind kept thinking about how I had seen movies filmed in these countries and as a child how I had read story books about them. Swiss cheese, German chocolate cake, Belgian waffles, and French fries_ it is so much more than all that!

After being in the flat Netherlands for a month, it was strange to drive up a steep mountain into a place that looked similar to my home. Surrounded by mountains and gorgeous open fields brings me comfort. The village we are staying in is built on a hill. Any walk you take includes some cardio. The architecture in the buildings makes it difficult, for me, as a tourist, to not stop and take pictures.

So far, we have ventured off on a few hikes up in the mountain of Totenbuhl. There are patchy forests with tall trees and then vast open fields that are perfect for reenacting 'The Sound of Music' opening scene. The sky seems more blue here, the air fresher, and the grass greener. Pictures cannot even express the beauty found here.

The village below

This beautiful tree was planted after the 30 years war. A 367 year old tree! 

German homes

Beginning our hike, one of many hills!

Herfst (Autumn)

On December 14th, 2014 I flew out of the country for the very first time. The day before our flight, I cried in my husbands arms because I was so nervous about the journey we had ahead of us.

Eight months later, here I am! For those of you that see me around Arnemuiden or have spent time with me in the months I have been in Europe I must admit, the main emotion I feel most days is fear. I want people here to understand that when I am quiet and reserved, I am taking everything in_ the conversation, the routines, facial expressions and tone of voice, the food, and the surroundings. It is all very overwhelming for me. Even though I have been a part of this country's cultural differences for almost three months total now, the differences still take some getting used to.

I grew up in the small town of Woodstock, Virginia. The state of Virginia is 110,786 square kilometers in size. It has half the population as the entire country of the Netherlands (8 million compared to 16 million).The country I come from, America, has a population of 319 million. All this to say, I am used to something so much different. 

Recently, the biggest cultural difference I have had to embrace is my change in transportation. If a person is seen biking alongside of the road in most parts of Virginia it means one of three things 1) He is one of those tree-hugger types, saving the earth from pollution! 2) He's a poor college age student who is too proud for public transportation. 3) He's a middle-aged man trying to get some exercise. Biking here in the Netherlands is the norm. I can bike, I am actually pretty good at it. My dad taught me how to when I was six years old. It was purely for recreational purposes and I loved biking in the backyard as a kid. But having to rely on it as my main source of getting one place to another is a little intimidating_ having to stop mid-cycle for traffic, biking through pouring down rain, or carrying large boxes and bags on the back of this small piece of metal, while impressive, is not ideal for me. 

Bikes at Middelburg train station

In the five months I was back in America this year, multiple people asked me how the weather was in the Netherlands. My response was always that it was the same in both countries. After being back here in the summertime, I can honestly say that summers here are not nearly as hot as they are in America! Arnemuiden is near the sea, so there is a nice breeze blowing through on most days. Temperatures fall in between low 60's and low 70's usually, with little to no humidity!

With the changing of seasons coming upon us, my heart begins to miss home. Back at home, autumn is spent buying back to school supplies, soaking up those last evenings of late sunshine, curling up under a wool blanket at a football game, sipping on watered down hot chocolate, and getting excited that first time you see your breath fog up in the cool night air! For me, while spring is all about new life and new beginnings, I believe that fall time is about closeness_ preparing for that long cold winter. Comfy sweaters, candles that smell as if you could eat them for dessert, crockpots full of homemade food, and baking cookies. To me, fall is about family and coming home. 

Blue Ridge Mountains in the fall_ my home. 

This fall, I face a new beginning, new traditions, and new memories to be made. Pieter and I just recently began renting a small apartment in a larger village. We have gotten quite resourceful with making spaces our own and living with a little as we have gone through this experience. As September creeps in quickly I anticipate celebrating our one year wedding anniversary, I look forward to a trip to Germany and Austria (thank you Oma and Opa), and I am blessed to be with my husband for his 28th birthday! Here's to whatever else might be lying up ahead for Lydia and Pieter Tramper this coming season!

Pieter and I at a family barbecue

I Have Returned!

Last Wednesday I drove on the backroads of Woodstock a little slower than I usually do, taking it all in. I was not sure when the next time would be that I would drive on those hills or pass those familiar landmarks. The day was not as stressful as I thought it would be. Evening came and my suitcase remained empty. My mom made one of my favorite dinners and a delicious apple pie. This was my last meal in America for a while.

My brother, strong football player that he is, weighed my humongous suitcase in at 47 pounds. I was relieved and amazed that it was under the airlines weight requirements. My dad helped me carry my luggage out to his car the next afternoon. My heart tightened as I walked to the car, the uncertainty of when I would be back loomed in the air as we pulled out of the driveway.

Finally on my way back to my husband, I felt comfortable in that little car. But the realization that I would soon be in another form of transportation, surrounded by strangers, made my stomach drop. I did not want the car ride to end. 

The airport was all too familiar, too many memories of goodbyes, tears shed, and hopeful anticipation of past journeys once ventured. Strangely enough, I found myself smiling at everyone I passed once I got down to security. I told myself not to get excited about my reuniting with Pieter until I was actually close. I was anxious for the security checks, bus rides, and boarding pass scans to all be over. All I wanted was to be in his arms again, but this is what I had to go through to get there. 

My first flight went smoothly, I would not say it was enjoyable, but it was not unpleasant. The middle hour and the last hour are always the worst of any flight. Three and a half hours in I thought the flight would never end. At the seventh hour, the pilot announced that we would be landing soon and that all passengers needed to prepare, this was thirty minutes before landing. Those thirty minutes were the longest in my life and my facial expression showed it. I had run out of things to do to pass the time and I wanted to be off that plane.

I spent the majority of flight number two paranoid that I was on the wrong flight. The stewardesses were wearing strange uniforms I had never seen before and the static on the planes intercom made it difficult to hear flight details from the pilot. I had no idea where I would end up. No one around me spoke English and I felt foolish to ask anyways. After barely making this flight because I was in the bathroom and having lost six hours of my life while I was in the air, I think I was just delusional.

My arrival in Amsterdam simply could not come fast enough. I allowed myself to get excited the last twenty minutes of the flight and I reviewed all I needed to do upon landing and entering the third airport of the day. I was in my own little world as I dashed to baggage claim. As I waited to retrieve my 47 pound suitcase, I watched the belt go around with the same three suitcases nearly twenty times. After a bathroom break, I came back, spotted my luggage, and was on my way through those doors to my husband. I was thrilled and exhausted. My heart felt whole again as we embraced. Too much time had gone by without him by my side. I talked his ear off the whole way to Rotterdam. :)

Being back in America for five months, I had gotten comfortable. The bustle of Rotterdam greeted me with unfamiliar and unfriendly faces, dozens of strange foreign languages, and a reminder that things are very different here. It was overwhelming. Trudging through the city streets with my suitcases in tow was the highlight of my trip across the pond. I needed sleep in a comfy bed and a nice shower. Once we finally checked into our hotel, priorities had changed, that had turned into only needing sleep. Let the week of jetlag begin!

Date night to see 'Jurassic World' in Rotterdam

A Stronger Me

Growing up, I never had much confidence as an individual. My sister and I did everything together_ high school, sports camps, even college! Any anxieties I had about socializing were always comforted with the relieving fact that my sister would be by my side. During that time in my life I could not picture going a day without talking to my sister. I went to her with everything, hardly made any decisions on my own, and I was content with living my life that way.

My independence, self-esteem, and leadership qualities really began to blossom when I got the opportunity to work as a summer camp counselor. I realized how much I had to offer on my own. I was still quiet, shy, and reserved that first summer I worked there, but it forced me to branch out.

Through branching out, I realized what a complex person I was. I took psychological quizzes and personality tests trying to figure out where to go next in life and they all came out with mixed results. I struggled to find myself because of this. How can a person be a leader and a follower? A good listener and a good talker? In order to be considered ‘normal’, a person is supposed to fall on either side, right? Well, I teeter in the middle of the spectrum.

                                    
    Summer 2012 working as a camp counselor with this awesome group of people!

                                      

Pieter and I saying good-bye after working together that summer. 

(He had no idea how much I liked him then) ;)

During our time of dating, my now husband quickly discovered that I am somehow both an extrovert and an introvert. I benefit from interaction with people and crave it when I am on my own for too long, but it drains me and I need that ‘just me’ time just as much. It is difficult to make friends and know where your place in society is when you have so many different sides to yourself.

The past two weeks, as my departure to the Netherlands creeps up quickly, I have been conversing with Pieter about how all of this has made me a stronger person. I feel like I was never cut out to be in a situation like this, but I have to choose to believe that it is preparing me for something in our future. When I talk to Pieter about having to do something I really do not want to do without him, I end in saying “but I know it is making me stronger”. From the moment the security guards told me my husband would not be joining me in the States, to the moment I made the decision to return home to work for five months without my husband, to walking through baggage check in tears at the Amsterdam airport all by myself, and every life event I have weathered in between_ this has made me stronger. I have recognized my potential, seen qualities in myself I never knew existed, and held onto hope tighter than I thought I would ever have to.

                                   

The Planner

In two days I will only have seven more weeks left in America. Pieter and I have made the decision for us to live in the Netherlands for the time he is unable to be in America. While we are still in the process of getting my visa paperwork done, finding an affordable apartment, and planning the nearby future, we are both excited to know we are going somewhere.

I have always been a planner and I like to feel in control of my life. If someone were to go through all the things in my room, they would find notebooks of plans and ideas of how I thought I could get from one point to another. In high school I made a plan of where I’d go to college, what summer job I would get, and how I might be able to get a boyfriend. In college I made countless plans of how I would pass my classes, make enough money to pay for tuition, and how many credits I would need to earn for my degree. When Pieter and I were dating I made all sorts of plans for nights out together, for our future (10, 20, even 30 years), I even typed up a three page plan just for our engagement and all the options we had. I always feel better about life when I have a plan. (Just for the record, none of these plans have ever gone according to plan, but I keep trying.)

Out of the hundreds of things that has bothered me about this time away from my husband, the uncertainty in not knowing where I want to go in the years ahead has been one of the biggest challenges. Determined to have a plan, I spend a lot of evenings that I have off work searching for apartments and making budget plans for the months of August to February.

I guess this tentative ‘plan’ makes it obvious that our goal is to have Pieter and I back in America by next February, but there is no guarantee. We continue to go through each day not really thinking about the process and trying not to let the past and present get in the way of making the best of our future together.

Countdown

The month of May seems to be passing by just as quickly as it came. As I reach the ‘ten more weeks’ mark on my countdown to when I reunite with my husband again, I get more anxious, nervous and excited with each day that passes.

I do hate times in life when the days and weeks become more of a countdown than a blessing from God. Moments in life when you have a special vacation coming up and all you want is for that day to come, so the weeks before just cannot pass quickly enough! But as the days pass I am still relieved when I can get through one more night after a long day at work, one more special occasion, and one more Sunday morning alone at church.

I am forever grateful to my parents who have welcomed me back home and have been great company to me in my time away from my husband. I could not ask for a more supportive family and I simply cannot thank them enough. Nights when I do not want to be alone, they are there. Mornings when I should be making breakfast for Pieter, my mom is there to chat with. It helps a lot and I cannot imagine having to live all by myself through this time.

The months ahead after this summer seem so uncertain and scary. Our future has become so misconstrued. In the midst of the doubts and the many fears we both have, we do try and hold on to the fact that God is already there in the days ahead. He knows when Pieter will get to return to America, when I’ll finish school, where we’ll end up living, where we’ll both find jobs, and when we’ll get to start a family. In the chaos of the world today we forget too often that we do not have to try to control everything. When we do try to control it all, we quickly realize it is not possible.

Our First Date

Today marks two years since Pieter and I went on our first official date together. We declared our long distance relationship on November 26th, 2012 and people thought we were crazy. After five months of skype conversations and love letters, getting to know each other, and dreaming of our first date together, the day he came back to America finally arrived!

I wore a black t-shirt and jeans with flip flops, nothing fancy. He arrived in the camp van and drove right past my house. When he stepped out of the car I saw he was wearing a black button down dress shirt and his European style 'jeans'. He had a bunch of gel in his hair and I was so nervous I could barely walk out to the car. I guess what I was feeling is what people call 'butterflies, but it felt more like large trolls playing bongos in my stomach that day. Pieter and I hugged and I remember him smelling so nice, as if he had drenched himself in cologne.

Expectations of this day were high and when I got settled in the warm van he asked me what I had planned for us to do today. This was my responsibility because he was not familiar with Woodstock, surrounding counties, Virginia, or the U.S. at all! All my fantasies and dreams of the day had faded away and I had no idea how we would spend our time together. Just being next to him in person was surreal.

We ended up driving back to Harrisonburg and going to Arby's because I needed to use the restroom. I thought it would be a simple in and out trip, but he followed behind me with my purse in hand after parking the van. We were hungry so we went ahead and got sandwiches there. I ordered and then he ordered (awkwardly). We each paid for our own meal.

I remember his driving terrified me. (I now know that he is not used to driving because of where he's from_ the Netherlands) We made our way to the Bridgewater Park where we spent quite a few hours enjoying each others company, being in awe of the fact that we were actually talking in person, and soaking up the sun on a nice spring day. We laughed about the ducks swimming in the river and we walked around the park. Our relationship was already showing how simple our time could be spent together and still be special.

When dinner time came around I had pictured us having a fancy dinner at a nice restaurant, but both of us were content with going to 7-11 to get a sub and chips and having a picnic by the river back at the park.
Evening came and the chill of spring caused us to go from the park to a friend's house where we watched the movie 'Mama Mia' and finished up our day.

I recall the day going by way too fast and me not wanting it to end. I remember wanting to pause certain moments of the day spent with this guy so I could capture every detail. I knew there was something special evolving and that scared me more than anything else.

That day, I had no idea I would call that man my husband someday, but I am so grateful that I do. We look forward to many more picnics in the park, making little insignificant things into big memories, and enjoying each others company in the years to come!

I regret not getting a picture of the two of us before our first date,
but this one is from my 20th birthday.

Reminded of God's Faithfulness

Spring is in full swing here in the States! The flowers have begun to bloom and the sunshine is starting to share more warmth. Along with the flowers and sunny days come raindrops falling on the roof and muddy puddles too. While I am excited to greet another season, it is strange not to have a day on the calendar in April marked with “Pieter returns to America”. For the past three years I have spent the months of spring and summer going on dates and spending time with him. Spring brings reminders that he is not here, but it also comes with a renewed mindset that my reunion with my husband is a little closer.

Work continues to take up my time. I am grateful for the guests that come in each day and the individuals I work with each day. Working hard makes the time pass and makes me feel needed. Just the other night I asked God to give Pieter this sense of purpose, to provide him with a job. I awoke the next morning to find a facebook message from Pieter, informing me that he was at a job interview. I was overwhelmed by God’s timing. 

Every night before going to sleep I pray that God would quicken this process, help nothing to go wrong with all the paperwork, strengthen our marriage as we are apart, and keep my husband safe and healthy. I trust that He will provide all we need in this shaky time, in His perfect time.

Long Distance Wife

Today marks one month since I left my husband in the Netherlands. This difficult time has felt more like four years to us. I no longer feel like I am only twenty-one and I no longer feel like a newlywed. What Pieter and I have gone through in the first six months of marriage has made us feel like we have been married for a lot longer than six months.

So what is life like for a long distance wife? It is lonely. Normally, I get up in the morning and he is already halfway through with his day. With the six hour time difference, Pieter and I have to carefully plan out our days together in order to be able to talk at all. I am so grateful for the invention of skype and webcams. When we talk, I usually want to spend that time making plans for our future or talking about us, while he usually wants to spend it watching tv together or having a light conversation to enjoy the small amount of time we are able to spend together. It is always good to see his face, even if the webcam makes it look blurry.

We try to catch up face to face daily, but there is quite a difference between the months we spent dating long distance the past two years and the months we are now spending as a married couple long distance. On September 13th, 2014 I vowed to be "by his side no matter where life took us". As his wife I have a role that is difficult to fulfill from 3,000 miles away. It is beyond stressful to not be able to take care of him and to not know when we will have a normal life together again.

There are financial troubles as we work together from a distance and communicating through emails is not easy or convenient. Due to the unexpected financial obligations of this process, I have had to learn to live an even more frugal life than I did before.This spring is the first spring since I graduated high school that I have not taken any college classes. Although I was never the academic type, I miss doing college assignments very much. It is defeating to me to have this burden of an "unfinished degree" on my back.

Not a day goes by that I do not think of the long timeline we have ahead of us. A countdown normally just makes my somber mood worse. Saying "150 more days" is just not comforting. Both of us spend a lot of our time trying to distract ourselves. Netflix has become like a companion. Cleaning, eating, and exercising are also options to make time pass by quicker. But at the end of the day I am still surrounded by too much empty space in my bed, dozens of pictures of the two of us happy together, and thousands of memories in my mind of days spent with the man that I love.

There have been times when I have longed for support_ to hear of anyone else who has had to go through a dark time similar to this. I search on Google for articles about 'long distance marriages' and there is no good advice. The reassurance of this situation 'only making us stronger' only comforts me for so long. My faith, patience, and trust in God is tested everyday.

The lyrics to the Audio Adrenaline song "He Moves, You Move" stuck out to me as I listened to the song on my way to work the other day. It says "He's the Author of your story, so let Him take you on the journey of your life." I will continue to follow my Guide.

Webcam pictures_ maintaining a sense of humor through it all!

I'm Back!

Here I am, back in America, back in my hometown, and back in my old bedroom. I am surrounded by boxes full of memories of a future that has been put on hold. More emotions and memories cloud my head than I can hold sometimes.

There are more days where I feel sorry for myself and want to crumble into pieces than there are days when I feel strong and confident about where my life is at. I have no idea how wives with husbands in the army do this. I am confused as to why God would choose me for this particular journey.

The concern and prayers from family and friends continues to be encouraging, but I do get exhausted from acting like I am okay and putting on a strong face for the world. I feel as if no one will ever fully understand the difficult time we are in and I am anxious for this time to become a distant memory. I am back at work now and I feel a little better about the situation now that I have a fairly steady income and have a small purpose in society again.

I want to take a moment to encourage husbands and wives to show gratitude, forgiveness, and love to their husband or wife whenever they can. Do not take the hugs and kisses, late night movies, and dinner conversations for granted. Tell them how much you love them and be thankful that they are there.

On My Way Back Home

Wednesday, February 25th was one of the loneliest days of my life. The ride to the airport was drawn out and emotionally exhausting. The days that led up to my departure held so much pressure. Neither Pieter nor I could wrap our minds around the fact that we would be apart for almost an entire half of a year. Our good-bye at the airport was long, but not long enough.

As I walked away to go through security, I left my husband behind and did not look back. I was afraid that if I did, the tiny bit of courage I had to go on this journey would vanish and I would run out the door into his safe arms once again. I was greeted by a kind man at security who thought I was Dutch. At that moment, I knew my journey home had begun.

Scared, I made my way to the bathroom and then to the appropriate gate where I waited horribly long to board the plane. Once I was on board, I was relieved to discover that I did not have a neighbor. I had the whole row of seats to myself. After taking a deep breath and fighting back tears, I settled in and drowned out the noise with my ear buds.

With forced confidence built, I headed into that familiar Copenhagen airport on my own for the first time. Following the arrival signs, I found myself in an empty area that I had a gut feeling I was not supposed to be in. I rushed into the bathroom acting like I had it all together, like I was totally intending upon visiting this certain restroom. I scrambled to get my new phone to work. Pieter and I had been over how to work this device several times. At this desperate time, I was afraid I was on my own and would not be able to reach him. Luckily, my text went through and my husband guided me back to where I was supposed to be.

I spent close to two hours wrestling with setting up the airport internet on my phone. I was hungry, but too stressed out to eat. For the first time it was not raining in Copenhagen when I was there, but as I watched the airplanes out the window, my eyes fogged up with tears as I realized I had no one to talk to.

The gate for my next flight could not have been further away. Boarding the plane, I dreaded being trapped in that metal tube for nine hours straight. I read the entire Scandinavian magazine before take-off. Three hours passed on that plane and each time I looked at the map on the screen I kept hoping that an intense wind would pick up and an hour or two would be deducted from this time in the air. I was exhausted, but could not sleep.

The plane was rather empty, which I appreciated. I tried hard to have a routine with listening to music, playing games on my phone, and watching movies they provided on the plane. I was learning already that the busier I was, the less time I had to think about my unfortunate situation. Keeping busy on an airplane is no easy task. There are no dishes to wash, articles of clothing to fold, or carpets to vacuum. There was no one to talk to, joke with, or lean on. This would be the longest nine hours of my life. 

For an American citizen, the process of returning to the States goes as smooth as butter onto freshly baked bread. I was through the lines in less than three minutes. I waited a while for my luggage, was sniffed by a bomb-sensing dog, and slid right through customs just like that! As I passed immigration and homeland security I prayed for the individuals going through the process my husband did. I prayed for their family members that were waiting for them on the other side that they may never see. Memories from that airport flowed through my mind all too vividly.

The scenario I had played in my mind over and over again as I tried to remain strong throughout the day finally came to be reality. My dad was there waiting for me and the relief that swept over me when I finally had someone to hug was incredible. The love, comfort, and support of my family overwhelms me.

Valentine Vogels (Birds)

As a Valentine’s Day surprise, Pieter and I went to Utropia, a bird sanctuary in Middelburg. It was a unique experience and a Valentine’s Day like no other.

While purchasing our tickets, we were greeted by a friendly white cockatoo that just wandered into the lobby and said “Hello”. It was creepy, but cute. I had a nice conversation with him. Upon entering the main room, there was a small gift shop and restaurant, nothing fancy. A large blue macaw greeted us and to my surprise, it was not fake. Looking on, there was a whole jungle of trees and plant life. Some birds flew freely in the artificial forest space, while most of them were in cages next to each other. The floor was covered in bird droppings and I am shocked that I left the building with a clean head.

The first attraction was a warm room with a large bathtub like fish tank. This tank held gara rufa, the type of fish used for a fish pedicure, also known as ‘doctor fish’. The instructions were to dip your hand in the water and the fish would nibble off the dead skin cells on your hand. I was frightened at the idea of dozens of tiny fish nibbling off my hand, but eventually gave it a try and loved the thrill. The next rooms were filled with gorgeous, colorful, and talkative birds. We tried to teach them new words, some Dutch and some English, but the birds were not versatile in their vocabulary.

In the center of the bird jungle was a large pool of humongous and brightly colored carp as well as small turtles that were probably terrified by the size of their pond-mates. The most random little creature that we stumbled upon was a tiny, furry prairie dog in the back corner. He was eating away at hay and running through the man made tunnels, making it difficult to get a good picture of him.

After our bird excursion, we went to a small café’ downtown and waited quite a while to be waited on and served, but the sandwiches we ordered ended up being worth the wait. From there we boarded the train to Vlissingen where we took the ferry to see the view across the Western Scaldis. By this time, the sun was setting and it was simply beautiful.

Our special day ended with dinner at none other than… McDonald’s where I got a hamburger happy meal and Hello Kitty glasses as my not so useful (or fun) toy.

Pieter's club sandwich

My chicken, mozzarella, and tomato sub

Decision Time

The name “Pieter” means ‘rock’. From the beginning of this journey when I was freaking out about only being able to pack four shirts for a month long trip, to the morning we were weighing our suitcases to check that they were not too heavy for the airplane, to the lunch at Arby’s in Strasburg on our way to D.C. where I kept making jokes because I was nervous, to putting off saying goodbye to my parents at the airport for the first time before we boarded the plane, my husband was there for me. If it was not for this man I would never have gotten to have this experience. He has been a patient teacher throughout our days in Arnemuiden. He biked slower for me, translated countless conversations for me not to feel so lost, and guided me around the town_ sharing memories of his childhood with me. He has held my hand through every take off and descent during all of our flights, he has made me feel safe and protected among a sea of strange people, he has listened to me when I needed to vent, and he has provided a warm shoulder to lean on when I miss the comfort of home. Pieter has been my rock during this trip. We will celebrate our five month wedding anniversary this Friday and our first Valentine’s day not only being married, but also being in the same country. Although I am not big on celebrating every little occasion in our marriage, this one seems important being that we will not be together for our six month anniversary.

Throughout this excursion I have learned that I am not as adventurous as I thought I was. During the awkward years of high school and the beginning of college, I always wondered whether I would be the girl who traveled the globe, who moved down south, or who stayed as her parent’s next door neighbor. My parents would joke about their children each building homes on the property around the house we grew up in. During my stay in Europe, I have discovered that my comfort zone is about the size of a child’s playpen. I crave familiarity, convenience, and I am not as brave and tough as I try to convince people I am. After being in seven different airplanes in a course of two months, one would think I would be comfortable and familiar with flying, but truth is_ I am terrified of flying. The reason for my return comes with one of the many lists I have made in an attempt to organize and make sense of my life. While my time here in the Netherlands has been educational, enjoyable, and extended, Pieter and I have decided that I can be more useful from the other side of the pond.

Being in America will provide me the opportunity to work again. This will allow me to make money to begin building a foundation for our continued life together in America, whenever that may take place. The main aspect I have missed about my life at home has been my independence. I have lost close to all of it in my time here. I rely on Pieter to get me food, communicate with those around me, and plan activities. I really never have any idea what is going on here. Independence, confidence, and purpose will come with having a job again and being able to drive around on my own again. I will also be present for the meetings with the lawyer and will be able to take care of paperwork firsthand. My parents and I have been told that this may speed up the process of Pieter’s return. We’ll see.

With this plan comes a great wave of emotions. While we will be back together for Pieter's 28th birthday and our one year wedding anniversary, we will be apart for the second half of our first year being husband and wife. The situation seems unfair, to say the least. My frustration and anger with the U.S. government and airline system continues to smolder, but as a couple who is just beginning their journey of growing and learning about one another, we know we will make it through this time and come out stronger in the end.

America the Beautiful

Before coming over to the Netherlands, I held very little knowledge of what the culture would be like and how I would relate to the individuals I met there. One really cannot know what a country is like until he or she has visited it and has had encounters with different groups of people in that country. After having been in the Netherlands for almost two months, I think it is time for me to write a post about how the American lifestyle compares to the Dutch lifestyle.

There seems to be a lot of curiosity and misinterpretation about America and the people that live there. I would like to try to affirm the true stereotypes and break the false ones. A lot of the knowledge that individuals hold about foreign countries comes from the only thing they have to influence them, oftentimes television shows and movies. This explains why a lot of outsiders have such an extreme outlook on how Americans live and behave.

In no specific order, I will begin with this subject of football. In America this is a topic that people either bond over or fight over. During football season many individuals spend their Sunday afternoons watching this famous game that I have never grown to appreciate. I have no idea why football is popular and why it seems to outrank all other sports, but it does. Many times football is the center of family get togethers, the game is on and everyone gathers around.

Holidays are bigger, brighter, and I would say ‘better’ in America. We set aside whole aisles in stores filled with decorations, cards, candies, and gifts for every important holiday. Special occasions include New Years, Valentine’s Day, Easter, Independence Day (4th of July), Back to School, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. It is hard to forget or ignore holidays that are approaching when you are in America. This may be the cause of us being known as highly “materialistic”.

After being in the Netherlands for quite a while, I now agree that Americans can be very materialistic. My first reaction about homes and the lifestyle of Dutch people was that it was very basic. They are not constantly searching for a shortcut to do tasks or for the next best convenience to arrive in the store, but they seem to be satisfied with modest living. Bigger is certainly not better here.

Guns_ whenever the topic of guns is brought up in a conversation here it is always in a comical way. America’s obsession with guns is funny to Dutch people. Having a hand gun in your purse or a rifle under your bed is not necessary here. For the most part, people seem to feel more safe here.

On the topic of fast food, I have reminded my husband of how much more convenient American living is than over here. This is likely the cause of Americans being referred to as ‘lazy’ so often. We are lazy, but for good reason. In most towns there are convenient fast food restaurants on your way home for one to pick up a quick and easy meal. This method of dining is just easier and sometimes cheaper than buying groceries.

We drive everywhere! Where I come from, the Shenandoah Valley, there are hills, mountains, and valleys around every turn. It’s a beautiful country, but walking to the store or biking to the doctor just is not an option. Other than the rough topography, the busy streets are dangerous to be out on even in a car. Having a vehicle is not optional if you want to get anywhere in America.

New York City, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Seattle, and Chicago_ these are the cities you see in movies and tv shows. My town and thousands of other American towns are nothing like these eventful cities. Many foreign outsiders dream of visiting America to go see these busy cities. They are missing out on the real beauty of America if they think that this is all there is to the beautiful country.

Breakfast and meals are much larger most of the time. This very much depends on the person and their lifestyle, but for the most part, any American would appreciate eggs, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns in the morning, especially on a holiday. I like to vary what I eat most mornings. I chose between waffles, fruit, yogurt, oatmeal, or a muffin. Lunch and dinner oftentimes need to be quick and easy for most American families. Parents work, kids are at school or doing activities and we are just busy. Judging from the individuals I know, lunch is rarely ever spent with family. It’s a time where you either pack a salad, sandwich or leftovers from last night's dinner and you eat at work or school, or you go out to eat with friends, or you drive by Chickfila or Wendy’s real quick on your lunch break. Dinner consists of a meat, vegetable, starch, and sometimes a fruit. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans is a perfect example of an ideal American dinner.

Americans do love to eat, and we do not simply eat to live. Food is fun, tasty, and convenient, which is probably why the obesity rate is so high in America. We pride ourselves in our ability to make a delicious variety of dishes with zest and flavor. Anything from burgers, hot dogs, lasagna, spaghetti, chili, tacos, pizza, pork bbq, corn on the cob, peach cobbler, roast beef sandwiches, chef salads, fried chicken, ravioli, loaded baked potatoes, macaroni and cheese, baked beans, bacon cheeseburgers, burritos, shrimp… the spectrum of food available in America actually blows my mind now after being in the Netherlands.

We do have busy lives. While my stay here in the Netherlands has become quite mundane, I have observed how people are not half as busy as people in America. I know that America has parts of the country where people live slower and less stressful lives, but the majority of the population complains of always being too tired or too occupied with other obligations to take time to enjoy life. If I were able to have a job here and a home with my husband like we had in America, my life would still be very different due to the emphasis of living ‘simple’ here. As much as I may long to bring parts of America to this tiny village and have the conveniences I did back home, I understand that with those conveniences comes unnecessary stress. With that understanding, I am trying to embrace the differences and enjoy this time away from everything I took for granted in my hometown.