A day's visit to Budapest.
(Although this happened a while ago now, I still want to share those two latest blogs.)
The tiles in the underground in the old heart of Budapest are beautiful and authentic. It is not hard to imagine that they made the Narnia Goodbye scene at the London station. A lot of nicely shaped wood everywhere, really beautiful. And year after year, people are travelling and passing by. Stepping in and out the underground, in and out, in and out. People on the road.
This time we were also one of those people on the road, there in the underground in the heart of Budapest, July, 2013.
Just before the seven of us (our family and our translator) entered, we nearly fell over a boy who was sitting with bended head and his legs crossed. A little plastic cup was in front of him and his question was clear. I gave him an apple.
Seeing beggars in the underground is sadly enough an all too familiar sight to us. But something in this boy, hit me in the face.
The shame on his face was staggering. The shame to sit here as a little nobody with such a worthless and at the same time life changing cup in front of him was such a clear question.
While I got sucked into the mass to get the first next underground, I was drawn to stand there and catch the moment deep in my heart. This seems to be a photo from the National Geographic.
Suddenly I realized the difference: This is REAL!
I walked on and cried. The reality of this hit me in the face.
Our journey went on though, we came along beautiful historical places. Just before a building where Beethoven has been performing in the past was now one of his followers playing. Somebody who knows how to value him in this time. His violin spread the peaceful old music over the streets.
We did some more sightseeing and one of our promises to old cities is to visit the cathedral. So we did. And at the front of this blog, you can see Laurens walking in front of the enormous Cathedral of Budapest. Not (yet) aware of the beauty around him.
It was dreadfully hot in the bus on our way home. The bus was packed with people. We got mangled up with a young group of people from this area, talking fast in their mother tongue. I couldn’t follow a single word, so I could easily just pass whatever was happening around me, but I got drawn toward this group and became the observant. I sensed their body language, voice and was forced to see the context. Something unexplainable happened. A boy was talking compassionate, but quietly, others where listening to him, happy and peaceful. I sensed purity. Our girls had eye contact with the girls in the group. We got off the bus and travelled on. And I was about to forget the whole thing.
But our translator told us that the boy was talking over God and how we always should put him at the first place of our lives.
God’s Kingdom is spreading all over the world. The question is if we see it.
I’ll see this young group likely never again. Their journey and our journey continues though. And I feel connected through unseen strings, eternal strings. I pray that God will use these young people to change the world, in the way which is God’s desire. For the glory of his own name.
Every knee shall bow before the King. Whether we like it or not. I am deeply encouraged though, through those small happenings on the way. I feel at home wherever God’s Kingdom is. And that seems to me to be often at the most unexpected places.