Day 2--A New Day

"As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. Where can I go and meet with God?" - Psalm 42:1-2

I awoke this morning at 2:00 a.m. Let's just call it the curse of jet lag. I literally watched the sunrise over a beautiful skyline of the old city of Riga. I'll have to post some pictures now that I have my camera (my bag arrived yesterday evening). The view from my hotel window looks across the Daugava River to the notable, iconic display of spires--what an incredible city with 809 years of rich history.

Somehow I think God knew that I needed this time to be alone--to reflect, to hear Him speak to me, and to give me this symbolic view that embodies a nation I have come to love--and one to which He has called me to love and minister. Both Bob and his wife, Janice, suggested that this might be the reason why Bob was not on that original flight with me. Who knows? But, I do know that when God gets me alone He begins to speak in ways that I had not considered before.

I finally gave up the sleeping fight at about 6:30, decided to shower, and put back on the clothes that I'd worn since I started the journey, because my luggage had not yet arrived. Nevertheless, I had enough toiletries and things to get me going for this day. I went down and had an awesome breakfast. I should note that this hotel is where Janet and I used to come for special occasions, such as birthdays and anniversaries because she is fond of having breakfast out, and they serve a feast here. It was no different this time and in fact, it just caused me to walk down memory lane all the more. I only wished that she were here to experience it with me like in the past. What a special treat that was in those days. Note: it doesn't take much to humor us.

After breakfast I got my "stuff" together in my backpack and set out to explore the city as I had done so many times during the years we lived here. Only the ride was just across the bridge this time on the tram as opposed to a bus ride from the outskirts of the city that I so remember riding--almost daily.

As I crossed the river, I sort of felt my heart jump thinking about the routine I had always known living here. That is, to get off at the first stop and walk through the historic old city with its vibrant history heralding me as though it were singing a very detailed song. This place has so captured my imagination and I have never been able to get it out of my soul. Always--always I would get off at that same stop and walk through the old city, whether I was close or far from the place I had to be for any sort of meeting. I would just build in the time to do it. It never failed to lift me up and cause me to wonder. So, as the nostalgia set in, I made my way across the cobble-stoned streets of Riga, once again admiring the ornate art-deco of the buildings from days preceding the reformation up until now. It was cold, but if I hit pockets where the sunlight beamed through I could feel the warmth. It didn't bother me so much. It just served to invigorate my spirit all the more and carry me down memory lane to the times I had walked these streets in the winter.

Things in Riga really don't get going until almost 10:00. Latvians and Russians don't really seem to be early morning kinds of people--at least, not in the city. Nothing is open before 10, so it was me and a few people making their way to work. It wasn't until the crowds started to stir that I once again noticed something that had not really changed all that much--the haunting looks. I saw once again the emptiness in the eyes of those expressionless faces. These are people who long for, "pant for" God and perhaps don't even know it. My awareness took me back to the times I would walk the streets feeling overwhelmed with all the people--realizing I had a message to share, but could not possibly share it with every single one of these people in a personal way. So, I found myself then and again this time praying that God would bring someone into their lives of whom they would listen to and perhaps respond in yielding their lives to Him--the One for whom they so longed. Somehow, before, I had become so aware of God's presence and sovereignty in those moments that I truly believed He was saying to me, "Done!" It was as if that's all I needed to request for those I saw and prayed over as I passed each one. Maybe it wouldn't be me, but it would be someone who would deliver the good news to them in such a way that they could respond.

Yesterday, I walked so much through the city that I literally wore blisters on the bottom of my shoes. I remembered that the place to buy band-aids was not a place like you might think--something like a Wal-Greens, but at an Aptieka--a pharmacy--which is never mixed in with places where you can purchase other things, like toiletries. I went in and bought some band-aids, found a park bench, removed my shoes and socks (in the cold weather--that had to be a sight to these people who already think that Americans are strange), and felt almost instant relief. My exchange with the lady behind the counter in the pharmacy is another story for another time. But, I just gotta say, I love these people, and she was no exception! She made my day.

Oddly enough, the language that I'm always fearful that I've pretty much forgotten seems to creep back in at the times I need to use it and I surprise even myself at what's coming out of my mouth. The great thing is--people understand! I had a few moments like these yesterday morning--like with the lady at the pharmacy.

After buying some food to carry back to the hotel and snack on for lunch, I took a nap and later made my way back to the airport by buy bus to meet Bob Adams, who had missed our flight in Chicago--nearly 48 hours prior. I knew he would be travel weary. I also had high hopes that my bag might also be on that flight. Once at the airport, I ran into a familiar face--actually, someone who had been more like family to us during the time we had lived here than a friend. He was my son Trey's best friend who had lived a stone's throw from our house. He was at our house so much that he was more like a third son to us--"Arbuzs," or "Watermelon" was the nickname we had always called him. It's not like he looks like one or is shaped like one, but is just the nickname that one of our summer missionaries had given him and it stuck. His real name is Andris. I can't tell you how good it was to see him and hear him joke with me as he always did. Love that kid!

Bob's plane arrived on time, and as the doors would open and close separating those of us waiting from the arrivals in the baggage claim area, I could occasionally catch a glimpse of the people inside. I saw Bob enter with an almost lost look on his face. After a few moments he emerged. I was nearly standing directly in front of him, but it was obvious he was fatigued. I motioned and called his name and when he made the connection I saw an instant look of relief come over him. All of his luggage had arrived and for that I had prayed as well. I sent him off to exchange some money while I tried to find out information on my bag that I also prayed had come on this plane. Within five minutes I, too, emerged with a relieved look on my face. It was there! Bob and I got a taxi and off we went to our hotel to get him checked in.

After getting settled, I asked Bob if we were ready to eat, and he was. There's something about traveling that long that makes you famished when you arrive. So, we bundled up (it was cold!), took off to purchase transport cards, and hopped onto a tram to take us across the bridge and further into the city. I was amazed at all the things Bob was seeing and remembering from his two previous visits. He remembered every detail. But, the treasure was when he looked at me and said, "It's so good to be back. I'm deeply moved." I watched him wipe a few tears from his eyes. I thought to myself, "Here's someone who GETS it!" "Yes, Bob. I understand, completely," was my response. We got off the tram, walked through the park area and arrived at the Lido restaurant on Elizabetes iela (Elizabeth Street). Lido is a famous Latvian chain of restaurants with "comfort" Latvian food. Bob and I enjoyed the food and enjoyed one another's company as we talked about deeply meaningful things--like we have so many times before. There I sat, in a city, in a country, among a people who have left an indelible mark on me with a friend, pastor, and mentor who has walked me through some of the most meaningful and critical times and decisions of my life.

God, how you quench the longings of my soul. How you infuse me with your grace and your love, which is more than sufficient to meet my needs, my desires, and beyond my dreams. "You alone are my strength, my shield. In you alone may my spirit yield. You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship you."

I'm at "home" in Latvia. A good day--indeed.