If I Fall, Will You Catch Me?
This is the first of a series of how God met me during my study abroad experience in college. I learned things about Him I could never in my home country. It was the first time in my life I put myself in situations where I couldn’t trust in myself, I had to trust Him and see if He would come through. I hope this series encourages you to step out in faith and see God work in ways you could never imagine.
Sitting on a bus, driving on the highway, staring out the window. This was something I did for many years on band trips from Illinois to Indiana. There were trees on the sides of the road and many of the cars driving alongside us were Toyota, Kia, even Ford. But there were some subtle differences. The words on the highway signs had many more letters than I was used to and lots of j’s in places I couldn’t even try to pronounce. There were a lot less Chevys and Dodge trucks and a lot more compact Volkswagens and BMWs. The license plates were skinnier and longer than the ones I had seen hundreds of times before. While this drive wasn’t as exotic as I imagined, I was somewhere I had never been before. I had crossed an ocean for the first time to get here. So many emotions of uncertainty, fear, nervousness, even a little sadness, had come over me the previous month preparing for this adventure. I had finally found a community I loved at IU; would I find a good group of friends overseas? I had never flown over an ocean before and being a child of 9/11 and with the recent ISIS attacks in Brussels and Paris, would I even make it to the Netherlands? The only language I knew fluently was English; how would I be able to travel to places where English isn't spoken much?
“The catastrophizing what-ifs were drowned out by the what-ifs filled with all that I could gain from this experience.”
Even with these nerves and fears, something in me, deeper than those fears, said, “Go.” It said, “Trust Me, I got you.” The catastrophizing what-ifs were drowned out by the what-ifs filled with all that I could gain from this experience. I didn’t exactly know what those were, but after walking with God for a year and a half, I knew He could do something amazing with this opportunity. I always had a safety net before to catch me if I fell, but this time, my faith was being put into action. I had no control in keeping the plane up. I had no idea if I would find friends or a church in Maastricht. I had never been to a non-English speaking country, planned trips, or budgeted intentionally before. This was it. God was either going to catch me as I jumped or let me fall. In my head, I knew He was supposed to catch me. But would He?
Quaint, Beautiful Maastricht
While I saw some of this little Dutch town the day I arrived, the following day was when I experienced its charm. All of the American international students were taken on a tour of the town. All I can say was, I loved it. The cobblestone sidewalks, the thatched roofs, the curvy roads, the bike lanes filled with bikers, the old church buildings. It felt like I was in “A Muppets Christmas Carol”. Most of the buildings were connected to each other in long rows and they contained many little shops and apartments. There were dogs everywhere, every breed imaginable being walked by their owners in the middle of winter. It was cold, but not as intense as Chicago winters.
My first experience of culture shock came as we followed our tour guide down the windiest of roads. Being from the Midwest in the USA, the only roads I had ever ridden on were a grid. These, on the other hand, made no sense to me. I am already not the best at directions, so I knew I would not have Maastricht down pat after this one tour. And the names of the roads? Beeldsnijdersdreef? Schaliedekkersdreef? What, did these people just throw as many random letters together to mess with the Main Street Americans?
I’m just going to soak in this fairytale land and ignore the fact that I won’t be able to get around here for awhile…
A Timely Answer to Prayer
After a full day of walking around this wonderful little town and exploring an underground cave where people less than a hundred years ago hid in the midst of a world war, I collapsed on my puffy white comforter in my dorm room. It was a Saturday evening and as I laid there, these thoughts ran through my mind. I can’t believe I am here. In the Netherlands. I love it. I’m right where I’m supposed to be. That group of Italians down the hall are so fun and welcoming. I hope I get to hangout with them more. What am I going to eat for dinner? And how am I going to get to church tomorrow? Months before, I had done my research to set myself up for success in finding a Christian community in the Netherlands. I googled, “English speaking church Maastricht Netherlands” and a few options popped up. That surprised me in itself! I happened upon one that was called, “Damascus Road International Church”. The website was basic and at the bottom of the page was a phone number to call for more information.
Lindsay and Andrea
I got up from the bed and moved to the kitchen table where I opened up my laptop. Right when I typed in “Damascus Road”, the door to my room opened and in came my roommate, Hannah, followed by a girl with long dark blond hair and glasses. I had met her yesterday at dinner, but we hadn’t talked much.
“Lindsay! This is Andrea. We were just playing cards out in the hall and she started to tell me she’s a Christian and is looking for a church to go to tomorrow.” I had a feeling my very expressive face looked shocked. Wait, I never told Hannah I was a Christian…
I met Hannah the day before when we entered our dorm room for the first time. She was also a business student at IU but we hadn’t met before. She was Jewish and I learned quickly, she spoke her mind. The things she liked or didn’t like, I didn’t have to wonder. We hadn’t hung out much in those 24 hours of meeting each other, besides the moments we were asleep, if you call that hanging out. I was about to learn, besides being very open, Hannah was also a very observant person.
“Wait, how did you know I’m a Christian?” I asked, puzzled.
“Well, I noticed that Bible on your shelf. I thought, with such little space in our suitcases coming here for five months, if you brought a Bible, you must actually read it.” I looked over at the little shelf I had on my side of the room where I placed my Bible the day before.
“Wow. I didn’t even think you’d notice that and put that together. Yeah, you’re right. I’m actually looking for a church right now.” I smiled, still in a bit of shock. I had come to Maastricht on an overseas study program with the business school I was in; in my three years at IU, I hadn’t met many Christians in the business school. I had just started following Jesus a year and a half ago and knew I needed some sort of Christian community while overseas. I still didn’t fully believe God could “do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20) so my prayer started off small. I prayed multiple times that God would lead me to just one Christian girl who could be my friend. I didn’t expect to find her on day two!
Andrea smiled back and said, “I actually found an English speaking church called Damascus Road that I thought about going to tomorrow.”
The shock increased on my face. “What? That’s the same one I found!” Andrea’s smile grew and I could tell she started to be just as amazed me. “Well, how perfect,” Andrea said and sat down at the table with me. Hannah smiled too and let Andrea and I figure out how we were going to find this little English-speaking church after a day of being in this beautiful, but confusing little town.
Two Millennials Finding a Hostel in a Foreign Country without Google Maps
At 9:30 the next morning, Andrea was standing outside the Guesthouse looking at her phone as the sun shined on her face. The night before, we called the number I found online to ask for directions to DRIC. After many rings, a man named Matt answered, sounding a bit surprised. We explained our situation and he introduced himself as the pastor of the church. He told us that this week, DRIC would be meeting at a place called the MECC, but they usually met at a hostel, called the Stayokay, right near the river in the middle of Maastricht. He told us to walk to the hostel and someone would pick us up to drive us to the MECC. Andrea and I had remembered the river from our walking tour earlier that day, so our confidence grew in being able to get there.
As I walked up to Andrea, I said, “Ready?” She looked up from her phone and smiled replying, “Yes! I screenshotted the map of Maastricht on my phone, so hopefully that will help us get to the river.” You see, both of us didn’t have data on our phones for this study abroad trip. Memories of my parents printing out MapQuest directions before we had a Garmin GPS started flooding my brain. I looked out at the twisty cobblestone roads and up at a street sign. It looked like Hifjshipdsshiepfdsedd. Gulp. Ok God, you gotta help us.
We walked down the road that we started on our tour yesterday and began talking. Even with just meeting Andrea the day before, our first conversation felt like we had been friends for years. There was something in me that thought, She’s a Christian. That means she is family, even if we just met. As I opened up about my life, my testimony, my excitement for this adventure, Andrea listened attentively. She asked me questions about being in Chi Alpha and I asked her what it was like being in Navigators, another Christian ministry at our university. The screenshot on Andrea’s phone wasn’t helping with all the unpronounceable street names, so we started making decisions on instinct. At every intersection, we stopped and discussed if we should turn or not. After 30 minutes of walking, I stopped and said, “Andrea, do you think we are getting closer? I think the person that’s picking us up is coming at 10:20.”
“There was something in me that thought, ‘She’s a Christian. That means she is family, even if we just met.’”
She seemed a bit nervous and looked around. We had made it to the town square, which was about half-way to the river, from what we remembered. “Hmm, I’m pretty sure the river is this way. What do you think?” she asked with some hesitancy in her voice.
I felt confused and unsure, but something in me decided it was right. “Let’s try it,” I said and we started walking a little faster and stopped talking to focus on getting to the river. After turning left and then right again and again, we finally saw this brown old church building. “We are close!” I exclaimed. “I’m pretty sure it's on the other side of this church.”
Another American and a Scot
We both smiled and started walk-jogging around the church to see a long grassy area next to the river. We made it!!! With 5 minutes to spare! We saw a white, modern looking building with an orange sign that said “STAYOKAY” a bit ahead and hurried across the grass. A little out of breath, we stood outside the hostel, exhilarated. After minutes of recounting the feat we just overcame full of smiles and laughter, our breath slowed down and we looked out toward the road. A minute passed, then another, then another, until it was 10:30. We were silent, stretching our necks to look for a car slowing down to pick us up. The exhilaration turned to nervousness. We had come this far, what if the car didn’t show up? What if they came early and missed us?
Wonu (left, you’ll meet her later), Skye, and Andrea
“Hey!” a voice behind us called and Andrea and I both whipped our heads around to see a tall girl with dark brown hair standing right behind us. “I’m Skye. Are you guys waiting for a ride to the MECC?”
The nervousness drained and Andrea and I smiled. “Yes!”
“Are you guys American?” Skye asked, locking her bike on a rack.
“We are. Are you?”
“I am. I haven’t met many Americans here yet. I’ve been here since August for a masters program. What’s your names?” We felt a sense of comfort, not being alone in waiting for a ride from a stranger in this new land and being with someone who knew our culture and language. We learned Skye was from Virginia and studying a unique field of scientific drawing when suddenly, a little car pulled up in front of us.
“Are you the Americans looking for a ride?” said a man with a Scottish accent in the driver's seat. We nodded and he replied, “Hop in! We are running a little late.” Skye got in the front seat and seemed to know the young man who was driving. Andrea and I got in the back seat and listened as Skye and him caught up from the previous week. We learned that his name was Tom and was indeed, from Scotland. In just a few minutes, we arrived in a parking lot in front of a large, glass building. Andrea and I followed Skye and Tom into the glass doors of the most modern building I had seen in Maastricht yet.
A Family Bigger than Bloomington
As we walked in, I heard upbeat worship music and saw a small band playing just a hundred yards away. In front of them were about 100 chairs lined up in rows filled with 50ish people swaying and clapping to the music. I heard the words, “Build Your Kingdom here. Let the darkness fear. Show Your mighty hand. Heal our streets and land…” Wait, I knew this song! This was a song we had sung in Chi Alpha services back at IU. The room was much more diverse than Chi Alpha at IU but I felt the same heart. A heart of passion for God. A heart of loving community. A heart to reach Maastricht with God’s love.
I didn’t think I could smile more in one 24-hour period. All the fears that filled my mind a few months earlier melted in an instant. God had a purpose for me in Europe. It was the first time I had prayed a specific prayer that He answered in bringing me to Andrea. My mind was being opened to how much bigger the church was than I even imagined. I didn’t know I could meet people for the first time and feel at home. As we found our seats and started to sing along, I was so far away from my physical home, my culture, my friends, but I knew I had just met more members of the Family. God really was Our Father and He had a lot in store for these next five months.
After reading, I encourage you to listen to this song, by Elyssa Smith, which inspired the title of this story.
