#22. I Have a Split Personality.

I spent a lot of time last week looking through old pictures, and as I did so, I had a strange feeling--like I almost didn't recognize myself.

Who is this girl?

This girl--let's call her Emily--is a full-time teacher and Bible study leader in the US.  She has a different activity almost every night of the week.  She goes to hockey games, DVR's Criminal Minds, surfs the Internet for fun science experiments, drinks Dr. Pepper, and always wins at Mad Gab.  She has the best friends in the world.

Yes, that is a donut.
Not everything has changed. :)

This girl--let's call her Emilie--is still trying to find her place a bit in France and has lots of free time.  She sounds like a kid when she speaks, she struggles to pray out loud, she never drives anywhere, and she has to wait until the weekend to talk to her friends in the US.  But she has also made friends from all over the world and can communicate with people who don't speak English at all.  She watches Cyprien videos on YouTube, drinks wine, eats fish(!), and surfs the Internet for fun English ideas.

I wish there was a way for all of the people I love on both sides of the ocean to meet both parts of me, but I don't even think I could adequately explain.  I was, however, able to come pretty close when my parents came to visit a few weeks ago.  They already know Emily better than most people, and they got to spend a few days with Emilie, too.  It was incredibly refreshing to have this time with them, and of course to see them in person after 7 months!

I thought it might be hard when they left, but I actually felt ok.  I really am happy here.  Now I'm starting to make plans to return to the US for the first time since I left, and that makes me both excited and nervous.  Everyone there will be expecting the same Emily to return, but that's not entirely who I am anymore.  What will this Emilie feel like when she makes her first visit to the US?  What things will she see differently?  What things that used to feel comfortable and familiar no longer will?

This cross-cultural living business is no joke.  I spent yesterday with two lovely boys (ages 2 and 5) that I would not have had the chance to meet if I wasn't living here in Lille.  Meanwhile, one of my best friends in the US has a new baby that  I haven't met yet!  And the kids I do know are growing up and changing so quickly that they probably won't even remember me the next time I see them.  But I am grateful for the opportunity to know and love people both here and there, even though that means my heart has to be divided, too (see also You Can Serve God with a Broken Heart).  And I'm even more grateful that when I feel out of place, I can remember that my true citizenship is not in either one of these countries, but in heaven (Philippians 3:20).

"...They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them."

-Hebrews 11:13-16

The Things That are Missing from Me

People here frequently ask me what I miss the most about the US.  Of course, I am always missing friends and family; that is no surprise.  But what do sometimes catch me by surprise are the little flashes or snapshots of memories--either specific things that have happened in the past, or just general feelings--that come to mind, often at the strangest times.

I don't miss Starbucks coffee, but I do miss "happy hour" with my Westgate friends and colleagues.  (Oh, and I do kind of miss pumpkin spice lattes, too.)

I don't miss watching hockey games as much as I miss watching them with my dad.

Maybe next year, Blues...maybe next year.

It's true that the pizza in the US tastes better (because let's face it, a real pizza has mozzarella, and you eat it with your hands!!).  But when I think of pizza in the US, I don't think of the taste as much as I think of Wednesday nights at junior high youth group, Papa John's day at school (which also happened to coincide with jeans day!), or someone (usually Mom) driving through Illinois and calling to say, "Should I stop at Roma's on my way home?"

In Chicago...and yes, we did stop at Roma's on the way home.

Whether I'm feeling happy, frustrated, or embarrassed (that one happens a lot), I miss coming home to my best friend and roommate and telling her about my day.  

Pirate party!

The last night in our apartment...with our impressive parking lot golf ball collection

There may be other little things that I miss here and there (ex. self-stick stamps, Hidden Valley Ranch dressing, free refills) but they're not important.  Ultimately, it's the people--and the memories I associate with them--that I miss.

This is still a hard phrase for me to express in French.  In English, it's me that does the missing:  Ex. I miss my family.  But in French, it's the thing that is missed that becomes the subject:  Ma famille me manque...which is sort of like saying, "My family is missing from me."  Even though it's more complicated for me to think this way, I like that way of saying it.  I'm completely content and happy here, but I also recognize that there are some things (people) missing from me.

#21. There's a New Kind of Comfortable in Town.

In moving to a new country and a new culture, I knew that I was exiting my old comfort zone, and there was no guarantee if or when I would find a new one.  After just six months of living in France, there are still a lot of things that aren't comfortable--speaking and understanding the language, building new relationships, stepping around piles of dog poo on the sidewalk... 

Recently I was away from Lille for 9 nights--by far the longest since moving here.  I like to travel, but I also like to come back home again.  And while I was away, I experienced a strange feeling of trying to determine exactly where "home" was.  I wondered what it would feel like when I got back to Lille after being away for so long.  Would it feel like coming back home or not?

The first couple of days, I got right back into my routine, and things felt fairly normal.  Monday night I had signed up for Franglish, a local French-English conversation group.  But as the starting time approached, I really didn't feel like going.  I didn't feel like making small talk; I didn't feel like meeting anyone new.  But it was too late to cancel, and I had told one of my classmates that I would be there.  So I went.  And I'm so glad I did!  My French still needs a lot of work, but I continue to see progress in the quality of conversations I am able to have with people. Afterwards, I talked with my two friends from language school, and it was so wonderful to see them!  (It had been a few weeks, since I'm not taking classes at the university this semester.) Then, as we walked toward the Métro together, we heard someone calling to us.  It was another former classmate who had gotten off at the wrong bus stop and was lost!  I don't believe it was a coincidence that we were there at the same time and could walk with her to the Métro.  As I walked and talked with her through the cobblestone streets of Lille, my heart was full of joy to be in that place with these new friends.  It may not be the same kind of comfortable that I feel in the US, but it's definitely something.

Good times with classmates!  I am so thankful for the relationships I've made and am making here.

How to Manifest the French Way

Today was a national day of mourning in France after the attacks in Paris yesterday.  
Above, citizens in Lille observe a minute of silence at noon to show solidarity for the victims.

A couple months ago I was talking with a French friend about cultural differences between France and the US, and I mentioned my surprise at the frequency with which I encounter manifestations (peaceful demonstrations or protests) here.  The next time I saw her, she jokingly asked if I had succeeded in joining a manifestation yet.  Well, tonight, I did!

At 6:00 pm, citizens gathered in La Place de la République, just about a five minute walk from my apartment, to show solidarity for those attacked yesterday in Paris.  When I arrived I saw the place was fairly crowded with people, most of whom were gathered in small groups, talking, smoking, or even laughing.  Is this it? I thought.  Not really what I expected.

However, another cultural observation I’ve made in my time here so far is that the French seem to have a sixth sense for knowing information.  I might be waiting for someone to give instructions, and suddenly, everyone else just seems to know what to do.  Et voilà...at 6:13 pm (I checked my phone) everyone stopped talking, then moved together to the center of the place.  Someone must have moved first or given a signal, but I didn’t see it.  People pressed together, raising pens, colored pencils, and “Je suis Charlie” signs.  

The silence lasted for about five minutes, after which someone started a slow clap (really), gradually picking up speed, and then a chant of “Charlie!  Charlie!”  Then everyone joined together in singing La Marseillaise (the national anthem), followed by another round of applause.  After that, I thought everyone was starting to leave, but they actually spread out and joined hands to form a giant circle around La Place de la République.  There were a few more minutes of silence, after which some people gradually started to leave, and others stayed behind with their signs and candles.

The overall mood seemed peaceful, hopeful, and determined.  No one looked angry.  I got the impression that they weren’t gathered to protest against anything; rather, to show solidarity and support for something—for their countrymen, for freedom of speech, for peace.

I took advantage of the silence to pray for France, as I was reminded that only Christ can truly bring the freedom, justice, and peace for which we all long.

"I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.  They will come in and go out, and find pasture.  The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."  -Jesus (John 10:9-10)

Trimming Down the To-Do List

I love the feeling of checking things off my to-do list.  But in France I have learned that a realistic to-do list needs to consist of just one or two items per day.  Sometimes it's my own exhaustion from language and cultural differences that slows me down; often it's the French business/government system itself.

For example, here is what I did on Friday:

1. I woke up at 07h00 in the apartment where I've been staying since my arrival in order to get ready to be at my new apartment before 09h00, to wait for my furniture delivery that would come between 09h00 and 12h00.
2. I had filled my big suitcase with things to take over to the new place (including a convection oven that I carried home from the store Thursday night), so I wheeled that along with me.
3. I stopped at the ATM on the way, because I can only take so much out per day, and I need to pay my rent next week.
4. While I waited for the furniture delivery, I worked on some things in the apartment, including setting up my new printer (which I also carried home from the store--different trip).  I discovered that the printer didn't come with a USB cable, so that means I'll be taking another trip to the store.
5. Furniture was delivered by 10h30, yay!  So I locked up and walked to the bank to deliver a signed paper saying that I give the bank permission to withdraw money from my account so that I can pay my electric bill online.  (Note:  This may seem like a bit of a nuisance, but I bet it cuts down on Internet identity theft.)
6. I went to the SFR store to ask about getting Internet for the apartment.  I chose a plan and was told to come back Saturday morning to sign the contract.  (Update:  Contract signed; the box will be delivered to a parcel service at the end of next week.  I'll pick it up there, and then I'll try to figure out how to set it up myself!)

All of this happened before noon, and after that, I was ready for a nap!  It is easy for me to wear myself out trying to be productive; and what usually happens is that my time spent alone with God is the first thing to go--when in reality that is the most important thing.  So instead of running myself ragged, I am learning to slow down and prioritize.

     As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him.  She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.  
     But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
     “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one.  Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”  
     -Luke 10:38-42

A photo from my new apartment!

#20. It's a Great Big World.

As a student, I loved getting new school supplies every year.  As a teacher, I loved it even more!  :-)  In fact, my mom and I would still go shopping together every tax-free weekend.  This year, I got to buy my school supplies in France, which was a whole new experience.

Here is a photo of my new “pocket” French dictionary…a gift from the university!  Also, check out my sweet new pencil case in the background.  Correction…pen case.  “En France, on utilise toujours un stylo” (professor at the university).

Other than my stylo case, I actually found the process of French school supply shopping to be a bit overwhelming.  Why can’t you buy a notebook with pages that tear out?  Why don’t the folders fit inside the binders?  Why do the binders have 4 rings instead of 3?  If one is going to make a binder with 4 rings, why sell a hole punch that only punches 2 holes at a time?  If one is going to sell a hole punch that only punches 2 holes at a time, why not make the adjustable ruler go all the way through so that a person with some perfectionist tendencies can make sure the top half of her paper is as evenly punched as the bottom half?

Of course, in the grand scheme of things, none of these details really matters.  I am thrilled to be here in France, learning both the language and the culture.  The US is a big country, but the world outside of it is a whole lot bigger.  And the more people I meet here who are from all over the world, the more I appreciate the greatness of my God who created and cares for every tribe, tongue, people, and nation.  English is a pretty widely spoken language, but not everyone here speaks it.  So even though my French isn’t great yet, I think it’s pretty awesome that having this language in common with my classmates allows me to communicate with people from places I’ve never been and may never be able to go.

“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’”  -Acts 17:24-28

P.S.  I finally found a “folder” I can put inside my binder!

#18. Incompetence is Ok.

Recently, I saw an episode of the TV show Mike and Molly in which Molly experiences a bit of an identity crisis after quitting her teaching job to pursue writing full time.  She even goes back to her old classroom to take a peek at her former students:

However, it becomes clear very quickly that she no longer has a place there.  The show was hilarious, but I truly did identify with Molly's feelings of incompetence and lack of belonging.

This past year has produced in me these same feelings as I left my full time teaching job to follow God's leading to France.  It's been a year of having hard conversations, sending emails until my fingers cramp, visiting unfamiliar places and cursing Google Maps for leading me astray once again, and substitute teaching...which it turns out, is not much like teaching at all.

I realized about halfway through the year that it had been a really long time since I actually felt competent at anything.  Although I certainly never felt like I had it all together as a teacher--I still have a lot to learn--I at least had a certain level of comfort, familiarity, and skill.  And I loved my job!  But more than once this year, I've found myself looking out at a group of students who probably could not care less about me as I've thought in my head, "You don't even know me!  I'm a nice person, and I'm actually pretty smart.  So please, be nice to me!"

This feeling of incompetence is not particularly pleasant, but I think it's actually a good feeling to have.  Because it means I'm no longer able to rely on myself at all; I have to rely on God completely.  And while I'm still not in France, I am getting closer...and then I'll experience a whole new level of incompetence as I navigate a new language, culture, and career.

So I am thankful for the lessons that God has taught me during this year of transition.  I'm not where I was, and I'm not where I'm going to be.  But that's ok, because I'm exactly where God wants me to be right now.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.   

-2 Corinthians 12:9

#17. It's Okay to Feel Overwhelmed.

At my recent cross-cultural training in preparation for ministry in France, I was asked to draw a picture (with my weak hand) that best described who I was at that point in time.  

This is me...

...lost somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, my heart torn between my current home in Missouri and my future home in France. 

I had been looking forward to this training for months.  Even though it will be a few more months before I leave for France, this felt like such a big step in getting me closer to that other side of the ocean.  

And it was:  both in terms of the physical requirements for me to go, and—even more importantly—in preparing my heart and mind for the move.  God has already done a lot of work in me over the past few years, but during training we were asked to dig down deep…really deep.  At times it felt like every layer of myself was being peeled off and stripped away, until I was left with just the core of who I am, exposed for everyone to see.  It was painful and yet freeing at the same time…plus we were all in it together.

I’ve never been great at articulating my feelings; it takes ages for me to process what is happening inside me and to put it in words that make any kind of sense.  And throughout this whole process, I’ve had so many different feelings that it’s been almost impossible for me to make sense of them all.  My logical side wants to take each thought and emotion and put it neatly inside the appropriate “box,” but I can’t, because there are too many things happening all at once.

So some of the greatest gifts God gave me during this program were visual, tangible metaphors that I can use to describe what is happening inside me…both for myself and for others.

I can have a “yay duck” that says, “I can’t wait to get to France!” and at the same time have a “yuck duck” that says, “I’m scared to leave my family and friends behind.”  

I can feel pulled in eight different directions at the same time by my expectations vs. reality, others’ expectations of me, and my own desires.

When I’m struggling to understand or be understood in a culture that is not where I grew up, I can remember that I need to “move my chair,” and that “different isn’t necessarily wrong; wrong is wrong.”

When I keep thinking of the word “chair” instead of “chaise,” I can remember that I need to “strangle my yellow balloon.”

When I think it’s too hard to change, I can remember Paul, who became all things to all men so that he might save some.

And when I feel totally overwhelmed, I can cry, “Father, help!” and know that He hears me.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.  Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”  

-Hebrews 4:15-16

Happy NaNoWriMo! (No Judgment.)

Several years ago at a writing workshop, I heard about NaNoWriMo…National Novel Writing Month, which takes place each November.  November was already my favorite month…fall, my birthday, beards, and now writing, too!  The concept is really simple:  "300,000 writers; 30 days; 50,000 words."  

I love to write, but spilling out words onto the blank page* is a daunting task, and too often I start editing myself even before I begin to write.  I have files and files of ideas, sentences, and half stories on my computer because I wasn’t able to bring them to life…or at least, not yet.  Even if I don’t show my work to anyone, sometimes just knowing it’s “out there” is taking a big risk.  

This past summer in France, I had a written exchange with one of my English students about art.  I said I love art, but I’m not a good artist.  She responded that it’s not right for me to say that, because it’s not possible to judge art.  So in the spirit of not judging (even myself) I’ve decided to participate in this year’s NaNoWriMo…because I can, and because it doesn’t matter if anyone else thinks what I write is good.  If you want to participate, too, it’s not too late!  Go to http://nanowrimo.org/ and sign yourself up!  I’m going to cut this short, because I have to get to work…I’ve got 1,666.67 words to write today if I’m going to stay on track.

*"You better worry," says the blank white page.  

"I have nothing.  Everything depends on you."

-Gina Briefs-Elgin, 

"Happiness and the Blank Page:  Csikszentmihalyi's Flow in the Writing Classroom"

#16. I'm Not Missing Out.

Lately I've been spending a lot of time talking about France and sharing some of the exciting things that God is doing there.  

Meanwhile, God has been introducing me to a lot of other exciting opportunities, too--coffee shops in London, children's clubs in Dominican Republic, sports camps in Germany, cycling in Rwanda, Child Evangelism Fellowship in Latin America, teaching English in the Middle East and Asia, tentmaker ministries in Haiti...and as I hear about what God is doing in all of these places, I feel little pangs of...is it jealousy?  I am so grateful for the opportunity that God has given me, and I know France is the place He has called me for now.  But when I hear about all of these other opportunities, I can't help but feel like I'm missing out!  Or at least I did feel that way.

But a few days ago as I was praying for some of these other ministries (and confessing my feelings of jealousy) I realized (i.e. God showed me) that I'm NOT missing out at all!  Missing out would be not knowing these other people and places and ministries exist.  But God has given me the opportunity to participate in not just one ministry, but ALL of these ministries by praying for and supporting my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ--what an amazing privilege!

There are many places in the world I would like to go, and I may never have the opportunity to set my feet on all of their soil.  But I can experience the places, the people, and the cultures through those who are serving there; and really, that is what being part of the body of Christ is all about. 

Yes, the body has many parts, not just one part.  If the foot says, “I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,” that does not make it any less a part of the body.  And what would you think if you heard an ear say, “I am not part of the body because I am only an ear and not an eye”?  Would that make it any less a part of the body?  Suppose the whole body were an eye—then how would you hear?  Or if your whole body were just one big ear, how could you smell anything?  But that isn't the way God has made us.  He has made many parts for our bodies and has put each part just where he wants it.  What a strange thing a body would be if it had only one part!  So he has made many parts, but still there is only one body.

-1 Corinthians 12:14-20

I know that when God calls us to do something, He will provide the resources we need, but still I've been amazed and humbled by the generous outgoing of support I have received already from so many friends, family, and even strangers!  It is an incredible privilege and responsibility to invite people to invest in God's Kingdom in this way.  I hope and pray that I can do a good job of relaying the work that God is doing in France so that they can experience it, too, firsthand.

#15. It's Just Stuff.

Last spring I began the process of packing up my classroom and apartment as I moved one step closer to leaving for France.  I actually started making my packing list for France months earlier, so as I made decisions about what would stay and what would go, I kept repeating to myself:  It’s just stuff.  If I don’t need it, if I can’t use it, I’m not going to keep it.

The problem is that I’m so sentimental.  Everything I see, touch, and smell reminds me of a person or an experience, and that makes it hard for me to let go of anything.  But it’s just stuff.  I don’t need the objects to remind me of those people and places.  So with the exception of a few items (childhood memories in a trunk; books on a shelf; one file of science supplies—just in case) I took pictures of the things I worried I might forget and boxed all of it up.  

Everything I needed for now and for France came with me to my parents’ house.  Everything else went into storage to sell.  [Yes, everything, dad…except the bed.  ;-)]

And now it’s time!  Our garage sale is this Saturday, so for the past couple of weeks I’ve been reopening the boxes I packed a few months ago and carefully trying to organize and display it in the most appealing way possible.  And still, I have to keep reminding myself, it’s just stuff.

 

But it’s cool stuff.  It’s the dishes that I carefully picked out before I moved out on my own the first time.  It’s posters and teaching manipulatives I made and used at the best job ever with the best students and coworkers ever.  It’s antique dollhouse furniture that I played with when I was little and thought I might give my own daughter someday.  

But it’s just stuff.  And if I can’t use it, I might as well give it to someone who can.  They can use it, and they can make new memories with it.  That’s what stuff is for.  To be used.

Having more stuff doesn’t make you a better person or give you a better life.  Matthew 6:19-21 says, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

I want my heart to be where God has called me to be—sharing His love and hope with others who need to hear it.  And I want to be free to go wherever He wants me to go and do whatever He wants me to do, without my stuff getting in the way.  So I’ve already decided when I leave for France, I’m only taking 2 suitcases with me…good thing I’ve already made my packing list.

I want my breakfast served at eight with ham and eggs upon the plate
A well-broiled steak I’ll eat at one and dine again when day is done.
I want an ultramodern home and in each room a telephone;
Soft carpets, too, upon the floors and pretty drapes to grace the doors.
A cozy place of lovely things, like easy chairs with inner springs,
And then, I’ll get a nice T.V.--of course, I’m careful what I see.
I want my wardrobe, too, to be of neatest, finest quality,
With latest style in suit and vest; why should not Christians have the best?
But then the Master I can hear in no uncertain voice, so clear:
“I bid you come and follow Me, the lowly Man of Galilee.”
“Birds of the air have made their nest and foxes in their holes find rest,
But I can offer you no bed; no place have I to lay my head.”
In shame I hung my head and cried; how could I spurn the Crucified?
Could I forget the way He went, the sleepless nights in prayer He spent?
For forty days without a bite, alone He fasted day and night;
Despised, rejected – on He went, and did not stop till veil He rent!
A man of sorrows and of grief, no earthly friend to bring relief;
“Smitten of God,” the prophet said--mocked, beaten, bruised, His blood ran red.
If He be God, and died for me, no sacrifice too great can be
For me; a mortal man, to make; I’ll do it all for Jesus’ sake.
Yes, I will tread the path He trod, no other way will please my God,
So, henceforth, this my choice shall be, my choice for all eternity.

-William “Smiling Bill” McChesney (1936-1964), missionary to Congo 

#14. God Makes Beautiful Things Out of Dust.

Poppies!

 Every time I write the word, I have to use an exclamation point.  

Poppies!  Ever since the first time I saw them growing in a field in France, I have gained a new appreciation for this simple flower. 

<<Le petit prince, qui assistait à l'installation d'un bouton énorme, sentait bien qu'il en sortirait une apparition miraculeuse, mais la fleur n'en finissait pas de se préparer à être belle, à l'abri de sa chambre verte.  Elle choisissait avec soin ses couleurs.  Elle s'habbillait lentement, elle ajustait un à un ses pétales.  Elle ne voulait pas sortir toute fripée comme les coquelicots.  Elle ne voulait apparaître que dans le plein rayonnement de sa beauté.>>

“The little prince, who was present at the first appearance of a huge bud, felt at once that some sort of miraculous apparition must emerge from it. But the flower was not satisfied to complete the preparations for her beauty in the shelter of her green chamber. She chose her colors with the greatest care. She dressed herself slowly. She adjusted her petals one by one. She did not wish to go out into the world all rumpled, like the field poppies. It was only in the full radiance of her beauty that she wished to appear.”  
-Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

The little prince’s flower may not have thought much of the poppies, but I think there’s something really cool about them…the way they seemingly pop out of nowhere, adding their burst of color, without caring what else is around them.

According to people who actually know things about flowers, poppy seeds can lie dormant in the ground for a very long time.  If the ground is disturbed, then the seeds can germinate, and the poppies will spring up!

The ground in Northern France and Belgium was devastated during World War I with the effects of battle after battle…the artillery damage, the gunpowder, even the fallen soldiers themselves.  The soil was so acidic that almost nothing else could grow there.  But come spring and summer, the barren battlefields were filled with poppies!  Major John McCrae even wrote a poem about them.

So to me, poppies have become a beautiful symbol of life and resilience, even if they do come out into the world a little rumpled.

But on my most recent trip to France, as I took some time to reflect on the work that God is doing in France right now, I began to think about the poppies in a new way:

What, after all, is Apollos?  And what is Paul?  Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task.  I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.  So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.  The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor.  For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building.

-1 Corinthians 3:5-9

Only God can make life spring up out of dust.  Still, He calls us, the body of Christ, to participate in His great work by sowing seeds, by watering them, and by trusting Him to make them grow.  Our God is the Lord of the Harvest, and He is in the business of restoration and reconciliation.  There is no ground too hard or too dry for Him.  And sometimes it’s the ground that looks the most unhospitable that will bring the most beautiful blooms.  

"All around

Hope is springing up from this old ground

Out of chaos life is being found in You...

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us..."

-Gungor, "Beautiful Things"

"It's from the deepest wounds

That beauty finds a place to bloom..." 

-Jason Gray, "Nothing is Wasted"

A Pause for Reflection...

There is nothing on earth quite like the joy of a Snow Day.  Your plans are already made; you have places to be and things to do.  But then, suddenly, with one phone call or email or image on the TV screen, time stops.  Classes and events and deadlines are postponed.  God has literally given you the gift of time.  What will you do with it?  Snuggle up with a book and hot chocolate?  Turn off the alarm clock and go back to sleep?  Rush outside to sled and build snowmen and have snowball fights? 

Part of the art of celebrating the Snow Day is to convince your parents that even though the roads are too bad for you to go to school, they are safe enough for your best friend to come over to play!  Or, if you’re willing to roll the dice, you can invite your best friend to spend the night before the snow starts.  ;-)

I think there are some good lessons to be learned from the Snow Day.  First, patience.  It is truly agonizing to attend a school that starts with a “W;” just when you finally think they’re almost done with all of the “Saint” schools, then they cut to a commercial break!  (For the young folks, when I was a student, they apparently did not yet have the technology to keep the list rolling through the commercials.)

Also, Snow Days are a lesson in rest.  God commands us to keep the Sabbath to rest, to worship, and to focus on Him.  I often find myself so concerned with my day to day responsibilities that I don’t take the time to rest as I should.  But on Snow Days, when schedules are suspended, I can truly rest!

Snow Days have been a part of my life for the past 25 years, first as a student, and then as a teacher.  I’ve been blessed to have a job that NEVER required me to work on a Snow Day.  But I realized on Thursday that I might have just celebrated my last Snow Day ever!

I was sad to learn that there does not seem to be an official French term for “Snow Day.”  Even if I do encounter some days in France on which snow interferes with plans, I don’t think it will ever have the same feeling as celebrating them here.

It’s ok; I know God will have plenty of new adventures for me in France.  The Lord has taught me a lot over this past year about the importance of looking forward, rather than looking back (see Thing #7, No More Looking Back).  Still, I’m a sentimental person, and so I felt the need to reminisce for a moment.  

R.I.P. Edward…2/2/2011

"Come now, let's settle this," says the LORD.  "Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow.  Though they are red like crimson, I will make them as white as wool."  

-Isaiah 1:18

#11. What God Starts, He Will Finish.

"I thank my God every time I remember you.  In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."

-Philippians 1:3-6

Friday, for the first time since Candidate Orientation over two months ago (yikes!) our little group was able to reunite, via Skype/cell phone.  [So grateful for technology, even when it doesn’t work exactly as planned.]

I am so incredibly thankful to God for our group.  We heard it was one of the smaller ones, but I’m really grateful for that!  We were able to really get to know each other throughout the week and to ask and answer questions honestly.

I definitely feel like God put us together deliberately; I can’t imagine being there with a better group of people (which also applies to the GEM staff!).  Even though we spent less than a week together, I love them all dearly…Dennis, with his chill personality and subtle but hilarious sense of humor (“Hi, I’m Dennis, and I also have 7 children.”), Terri, the epitome of the Proverbs 31 woman, who also made me feel better about having so many questions (“Sharon, is it ok that I don’t understand anything that you just said?”), Kevin, with his ability to instantly befriend anyone, who thinks nothing of munching sweet potato chips in the president’s office, and Jazz, my fellow Francophile, who is one of the coolest, kindest people I’ve ever met (and she can hula!).

It’s not like I expected this process to be easy, but there have definitely been some unexpected challenges.  I am grateful for loving and supportive family, friends, and church bodies, but there is just something about us going through this process together that I really appreciate.  We’re all heading to different places, and we may get there at different times, but I can’t wait to see what God does with our little group.  [And also to have an “excuse” to visit Paris, Germany, and Switzerland.]  :-)

"Remember the things I have done in the past.  For I alone am God!  I am God, and there is none like me.  Only I can tell you the future before it even happens.  Everything I plan will come to pass, for I do whatever I wish."

-Isaiah 46:9-10

#10. One Step at a Time



“Imagine yourself as a living house.  God comes in to rebuild that house.  At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing.  He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.  But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense.  What on earth is He up to?  The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of—throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards.  You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage:  but He is building a palace.  He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

 

Today is my birthday. 

I think birthdays always make us a little introspective.  Today, I can’t help but think about what a different place I’m in this year than I was last year—literally and figuratively.

This week I’m in Colorado at Greater Europe Mission’s headquarters for Candidate Orientation.  I had been anticipating this for months…then getting excited as the date got closer and closer…and then last week I panicked. 

Am I really supposed to be here?  Can I do this?  Is God really calling me to France, or am I doing this just because I want to?

I am definitely a thinker, and over the past few months, the thoughts have been coming and going faster than I can make sense of them.  I feel like I’ve been trying to take all these scraps and post-its of thoughts and to put them together, so that I can organize them into little files to store away in my mind and heart.  Journaling and blogging has helped, but there are still some nagging, half-processed thoughts that don’t seem to fit into any file.

Yesterday during our morning worship, we talked a bit about what it means for God to break us in order to reshape us and use us.  I’ve definitely experienced this over the past year.  One of these areas that I keep coming back to time and time again is my desire to know God’s whole plan, when all He is showing me is one step at a time.  I struggle to find the balance between wanting to be in control (which I’m not) and simply wanting to give God my best, which I think includes being as prepared as I can be. 

For example, right now God has called me to be a teacher.  I can’t serve Him to the best of my ability without taking time to plan and prepare for my students.  The unexpected can (and does) still occur, but I’m a more effective teacher if I take the time to study, prepare, and practice what I’m doing.

Yet, for some reason, when it comes to this journey of missions that God has me on, overthinking seems to be my biggest enemy.  I know it’s normal to have doubts and hesitations when starting something new, but the more I try to sort through them and process them, the more confused I get.  So last night I took a little walk under the beautiful Colorado stars, and I boiled it all down to these three options:

1. I can go back to where I was last year at this time, and forget everything that God has done in me since then.
2. I can stay exactly where He has me right now.
3. I can keep moving forward, one step at a time.

Those really are the only options. 
 
#1 is ridiculous; we can’t move back in time, and even if I tried, I can’t change the circumstances that have brought me to where I am; I can’t bring back people or opportunities that are gone; and most importantly, I can’t forget the lessons God has taught me since then.

#2 is equally absurd.   Even though change is scary, it’s a part of life.  Things can’t stay the same forever; if they did, we would never grow.

So #3 it is…keep moving forward, trusting that as God has guided me so far, He will continue to do so—in His timing, not mine. 

I’m so grateful for Bible Study Fellowship and the difference it has made in my life.  I remember hearing early on that it is “a season of preparation for a lifetime of service.”  To be honest, when I heard that, I didn’t ever want the season of preparation to end!  A lifetime of service seems scary and hard.  But it’s not really preparation if you’re not actually preparing for anything.

I’ve been able to use so much of what I’ve learned in BSF and apply it where I am.  Now God is teaching me new things, and it seems, calling me to a new place. 

I don’t know if I’ll end up in France.  If I go, I don’t know if I’ll be successful there.  If I am, I don’t know if I’ll stay or come back.  If I come back, I don’t know what I’ll do when I get here.  I can’t know any of that, and I could make myself crazy trying to figure it out.  All I know is I have to keep moving forward, one step at a time.

I appreciate C.S. Lewis’s quote above.  It is really painful when God starts demolishing walls that I thought looked fine right where they were.  But He is the architect, and He alone knows the blueprint.  I don’t need to see it to know that His house will be infinitely better than the one I would have built on my own.

 

For we are God’s masterpiece.  He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. 

–Ephesians 2:10