Clé en Main

"Key in hand." This is the phrase that the salesman used to tell us the final price of our new car. In a providential misunderstanding due to the language barrier, David inadvertently negotiated a lower price. Those who know David well know that he would never purposefully ask for a lower price. That is usually my job. But thanks to our inability to communicate in French, we saved a whopping 1000 Euros off of the sticker price--bringing us in at 2,500 Euros BELOW our car-buying budget! Way-to-go, David and Thank You Lord!

And while I am thanking people, let me say with heartfelt gratitude, "Merci Beaucoup" to all have given money to Four For France over the past two years. It was the accumulation of your gifts that allowed us to pay cash for this car, and we are deeply, deeply grateful.

Now to all who want the gory details (Dad!), here are the specs on this beauty:

It is a 2007 Opel Zafira with 47,500 Kilometers (which is just under 30,000 miles), has had only one owner, and has never been in an accident. There are seat belts for up to seven people, which means when you come to visit we can cart you around in style! The 1.9 Liter Turbo-Diesel engine has a lot of get-up-and-go, and we have discovered that diesel fuel is actually cheaper than unleaded gasoline in France. We love the manual transmission--all 6 gears. Opel cars are made in Germany, but I believe they are owned by GM.

Love it! Love it! Love it!

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Still in Transition

We continue to be in transition, and any form of "settling" is still not close enough to have a date attached to it. Perhaps this is because we are having a hard time finding a place to live. We did not get the house that we initially wanted to rent--for reasons that are yet unclear to us. There are very few places available in Massy, the town where our language school is, and so we are broadening our search to surrounding areas.

Even so, there is absolutely nothing over 100 square meters (about 1000 square feet) and most homes and apartments in our price range are about 70 square meters (700 square feet). In France you have to use a Realtor to find a rental, but the Realtors have so much business that they do not bother to return phone calls. We are still more bemused than frustrated by this process, but the shipping container with our stuff is due to arrive in France next week, and it would be nice to be able to give them an address for delivery!

Building on this post about transition, let me add a few to the list:

You know you are in the midst of transition when...

...you have been living out of a suitcase for 6 solid weeks, and your clothes have forgotten what hangers are.

....you go to a church for the first time, and friendly people welcome you and ask (in English), "Where are you from?" and you stare at them blankly because you really do not know how to answer the question.

...you can't part with your cell phone even though it has been "out of service area" for a good four weeks. You dream of owning a cell phone that will work, but for some reason this seems to be an impossible dream.

...you enter the place where you are staying and begin looking for your pets, and then remember you don't have any pets with you at the moment and you haven't had pets with you for a month.

...you grocery shop for one meal at a time because you are not exactly sure where you are going to be the next time you need to eat.

...you finally have a checkbook, but it doesn't look like an American checkbook, and so you have to call a friend to ask HOW to write a check in France. Then you hope that you can spell French numbers correctly.

...every day is an adventure. You no longer know how to plan a day or anticipate events. You go with the flow, because you simply do not have a choice.

On Monday we found ourselves without any hope of meeting with a Realtor, in the midst of a waiting period for getting our car, and discovering that the cell phones we want to buy have to be ordered from another store. Realizing that it would be impossible to check any tasks off of our to-do list, we decided to head in to Paris for a day of R and R.

We went to see Napoleon's tomb and a War Museum, then bought crepes and ate them in this garden behind Notre Dame. After lunch we stood in line for an hour to see Sainte Chapelle. Then we grabbed a scoop of ice cream before hopping on the Metro and a train back to Chantilly.

Today we are back on the hunt for a homestead and the venture for a vehicle--wondering if "transition" is our new normal.

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My Paradigm Shift

Our trip to Poland was refreshing and exhausting all at the same time. Yesterday we made our way back to France, but poor Graham spent the entire trip home battling a very painful stomach virus. Chandler commented (somewhere between the third and fourth mix-up of the day, while we were in YET another line trying to get our itinerary sorted out), “I hope nobody takes this the wrong way, but I am really SICK of traveling.” David and I were in our own states of fatigue, but holding it together for the sakes of our boys, who were clearly being troopers of their own. Needless to say, sleep came easily last night.

This morning I am going to hit the laundromat with a mountain of dirty clothes while David tackles step number 43 of the 87 step process required to obtain a cell phone in France. Living in Europe can be so glamorous…and then there are days like this!

But before I decide which book I am going to read while I wait for the rinse cycle, I thought I would share with you my BIG take-away from the conference in Poland. It isn’t earth-shattering, but it is a major paradigm shift for me. After an amazing teaching on the parable of the talents, our speaker asked, “What is God expecting you to do this year?”

It was one of those moments when I knew the answer as soon as the question was asked. This year God expects me to learn, to follow, and to listen. Do you see how contrary those things are to the things I have been doing? I have spent the past few years in ministry teaching, leading, and speaking. Now the teacher must learn, the leader must follow, and the speaker must listen.

I have often lamented the fact that there is no such thing as a Follower-ship Conference. Leadership is taught all of the time, but we are rarely taught how to be good followers—even though before ALL else we are supposed to be followers of Jesus.

I feel the gentle but firm tug of the Holy Spirit, reining me in, slowing me down, and turning my head. He is inviting me to move from my comfortable place in the front of life’s classroom to a small desk in the midst of a giant lecture hall. I am sensing a need to pack all my knowledge and experience away for a season—don’t worry, it will keep—and open a fresh spiral notebook, expectant.

I must change my entire approach to life. I can no longer filter events, insights, and information through the sieve of a mind that is called to teach and lead others. Right now I need to be a sponge, for I have no way of knowing how God wants to use the events, insights, and information that He has planned for me to experience in the upcoming year. I do know that He only allows us to be sponges for a time. Eventually, He plans to wring us out.

Please do not misunderstand. I do not think that roles of teacher and learner are mutually exclusive of one another. In fact, they are two sides of the same coin. God is asking me to flip the coin for a while, allowing the role of learner to dominate. I just hope I can do it.

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Loneliness--Level 1

I am NOT joking when I tell you that the American song "All By Myself" is playing in the hotel lounge as as I write this post. I feel like my life is being set to music as I sit alone, preparing to blog about my first wave of loneliness. I guess God knows that humor goes a long way with me...so really, the song made me smile.

Let me start with a question. When you go swimming, are you the type of person who likes to ease gradually into the cool water or are you the type who goes straight to the diving board and jumps in head first? Those who know me well will attest to the fact that I'm a jumper. I know it is going to be cold, I just prefer to get it over with quickly.

But there are times in life when even though I know I have to go in to the deepest coldest part of the pool, God puts up a NO DIVING sign, and I am forced to enter slowly, one small, painful step at a time, which is why I have called this post "Loneliness--Level 1."

While today I wrestled with my first bout of loneliness, I am keenly aware of the fact that I have barely scratched the surface of the depths of loneliness that I will feel in the coming weeks and months. I wish I could just "dive in" and get it over with, but it doesn't work that way. I will have to face each level as it comes, trusting that God has prepared me for that which He sets before me. Believing that I will see His glory on each step. Knowing...but experience in new ways...that He truly is sufficient. More than enough. Everything.

Today's loneliness had nothing to do with missing friends and family at home. I am sure those days are coming, but it was not the case today. Nor was I actually alone today, until now. In fact I was surrounded by English-speaking, God-loving women of faith. I'd like to think that I would feel right at home in such a crowd. Instead, I felt like a total outsider.

Don't get me wrong, the people here are wonderful. They are open and accepting. I have met women that I truly hope to count as friends--eventually. I think I was just hit with the realization that it will be a while before I have kindred spirits here. It will take time to get to know people. And it will take time for people to get to know me. And I think that the latter was the part that really made me feel lonely today.

Remember the old Cheers song? "You want to go where everybody knows your name." I have never been the most popular girl in the world, but it is weird to be in a place where everyone else seems to know each other and I hardly know a soul, and those I do know I only know at a very surface level. I also wonder if anyone will ever want to know me. Oh brother--that really sounds pathetic! I can't believe I even wrote it. Nevertheless, there is something woven deep in to the fabric of my being that LONGS to be known by another.

And then I consider two things:

1.) My God knows me. We have established intimacy. Is it possible that in being removed from a place where I felt known by many, I will find a place of deeper intimacy with God? An old worship chorus just came to mind (Thank you, Holy Spirit!):

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And helps me when I call

Truth. Reality. Hope. He IS drawing me closer. Helping me learn to lean on Him.

2.) My God also LONGS to be known. And isn't that why I am here in the first place? Perhaps this longing to be known is a gift. Perhaps I am getting a glimpse into the heart of God. Perhaps this pain is my tutor. Perhaps God is preparing me for ministry.

Perhaps?

No.

Certainly!

Today I did get a hug from a dear woman who serves in Spain. She was tender but genuine when she told me, "I know what you are going through, and this is just the beginning." In other words, I have deep waters of loneliness yet to experience. I can't dive in and get it over with, but I can look for Jesus each step of the way. I know I found Him on level one, and I have barely gotten my toes wet. I trust He will meet me in the depths.

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Wisla, Poland

We are currently nestled in the mountains of Poland at a lovely hotel with 300 other GEM missionaries who are all here for our organization's annual conference. Meanwhile, Graham and Chandler are at a Youth conference at a different hotel in the same town with all of the 13-18 year old GEM missionary kids. I haven't seen or heard from them in two days, but I have been told by some of the youth leaders that they are having a wonderful time and making great friends.

Our conference has been TOTALLY inspiring. There is more to tell than I have time to share at the moment, but I am overwhelmed with the feeling that we are dead center in the middle of God's plan for our lives. We have vision, passion, and tremendous hope. These things are critical because in all other possible ways--mentally, emotionally, and physically--we are completely out of our element. For example:

• I am 39 years and last week someone had to show me how to fill out a bank deposit slip.
• Our field leader had to "babysit" us through the rental application process because of the language barrier.
• AND, as IF having a language barrier were not alienating enough, I do not even understand French pictures. Here is a road sign we often pass. What, oh what, do you think it means?

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Welcome to France

Well we most certainly hit the ground running, and it is a good thing because the red tape in France is abundant! For example, Tuesday went something like this:

We went to a cell phone store to purchase cell phones, as we feel quite inept without a modern mode of communication. We were told (very kindly) by the store manager that it would be quite impossible for us to purchase phone without first having a French banking account, as we would need to sign up for a service plan, and that requires a bank account.

No problem (we thought to ourselves) and we took out 500 Euro from the ATM and went to the bank to open an account. We were told (very kindly) by the banker that it would be quite impossible to for us to open a bank account without an address. He gave us an application form of sorts, and also a list of required documentation. We meet with him again on Friday.

In the meantime, we went to look at houses, only to find that (of course!) we will need to have a bank account before we will be able to rent a house. Do you see our vicious circle????

Ahhh, but there is hope. Next we went to our language school, who patiently helps foreigners move to France every year. They gave us a letter to give to our bank that testifies that the SCHOOL address is a valid address for us to use. Hopefully, the banker will find this sufficient enough to grant us the supreme honor of storing our cash with him for safe keeping.

On the house front...we did find one that we would like to rent. We meet with the realtor on Friday afternoon to make an application, but she also gave us a list of about 25 pieces of documentation that she needs from us. We have some of it. Some of it is documentation that simply does not exist in in the United States. Some of it we HAVE, but not WITH us...like the past three years' tax returns. So if the house is to be ours, we will need some help from above. Thankfully, He IS our ever-present help, so I think that things just might work out!

And if/when things do work out, we will be settled in Massy and ready for language school. Here is a picture of the shopping center close to the house we want to rent...where I will buy groceries, etc. Isn't is wonderful?

Don't you wish you could visit me?

ME TOO!

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On Dry Land

We arrived in Southampton at 6:30 a.m., disembarked from the fabulous Queen Mary 2 at 9:30a.m., and took a bus to St. Pancras Station where we are currently awaiting the 16:02 Eurostar train to Paris Nord. The Internet on the ship was expensive AND slow, so I was reluctant to post very often. But now that I am enjoying free wi-fi, I will try to take this time to bring you up to date.

The Queen Mary 2 was tremendous. One of the highlights of each day was dinner in the Britannia Restaurant, where the dress code was quite formal.

We are all smiling here because our photo was being taken by a man in a kilt. Did you know that it is impossible NOT to smile when your picture is being taken by a man wearing a kilt?

We really did spend a LOT of time eating, and we savored every morsel. When we weren't eating we found time to read books, nap, play games, go to concerts, watch movies, and swim.

Another highlight of our trip was a mid-Atlantic rendezvous with a tiny canoe and the four men in it who are trying to beat the world record for rowing from New York to England. We waved and cheered them on. The record is 55 days, and when we met up with them they had been rowing for over a month. In that time they had capsized twice, lost one man overboard (but recovered him quickly) and had performed surgery on an ingrown toenail with a Swiss army knife.

The QM2 launched one of its fast rescue boats to greet the canoe--a spectacle in and of itself--and then they took some photos while greeting the rowers. We purchased one of these pictures for three reasons: 1.) They got an amazingly cool shot! 2.) It shows the size of both boats relative to each other, which is mind-boggling in both respects, and 3.) If they break the world record we were witness to an historic endeavor. Unfortunately, we only have a paper copy of the photo, so I can't upload it until we have our scanner. But trust me...it was SO TOTALLY AWESOME!

The name of their boat is the Artemis Investments--you can Google them if you want more info.

Well our train is getting ready to board. So much more to say, but it will have to wait. TTFN!

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