A Wonderful Year

2018 was a year of big transition for me and my family:  a move to a big city in a new country, our first time living in a country that spoke a language different from our own.  

At first, only having the language skills of a two-year-old made me feel vastly vulnerable and at a loss.  When I waited in line at Office Depot next to an elderly gentleman who turned to me and commented on the length of the wait (I can only presume!) I could only smile and nod.  I was unable to read the descriptions on food packaging at the grocery store.  I had to learn how to shop for groceries without a car, only buying the amount of things I could transport home in my little rolling cart.

I used my deductive reasoning skills at the supermarket

to figure out this was buttermilk.

There's always Arabic on the buttermilk in France.  Why?

Do Arab nations use a lot of buttermilk in their cooking?

One more thing I've yet to Google...

I had to work out a system for getting on and off public transportation with kids:  adult, kid, kid, adult.  This way if the doors close on the Metro no kid is left alone.  I had a new city to learn my way around, a city filled with beautiful architecture, famous landmarks, and lots of people, as well as sirens, horns, and cigarette smoke.

The year brought new friends and new relationships, the birth of a new church, and new routines for my kids as we went back to full-time homeschooling.

our first "practice" service at EIC Ternes on a snowy March Sunday

And how did we fare with all these new things?  With so much grace and kindness from the Lord, I'm happy to report!  There were some moments of holding back tears in a large crowded supermarket one night, unable to find what I wanted and unable to read the instructions on how to use the scanner to pre-scan your items.  Even when a kind stranger took the time to tell me, he spoke quickly in French, and I couldn't understand.  

a screenshot from the kids' Duolingo lesson

I don't know if they've ever used this phrase.

BUT, there have been so many wins along the way:  when I was able to tell the lady at the flower stand in French that I didn't understand French well, and she graciously said, "How about English, then?"  I found it true that if you try speaking in French, people are usually happy to try their English with you if they can.  And for some reason, the people at the Monoprix bakery always compliment my French.  (Maybe they hire the nicest people.)  And on my last trip to the grocery store before we came home for Christmas?  I had a long conversation (for me) in French with the lady at the checkout.  I felt so triumphant and thankful.

The community of people at Emmanuel International Church has made making new friends a joy.  The new church plant has seen people come through the doors from countries I've only heard about on the news, and I love to hear the stories and see the evidence of God working in people's hearts all over the world.  

In addition to meeting new friends from faraway places, God brought another American missionary family to us who have six children.  They bless us with their seven years' experience living in France and with friends for our kids who understand our kids' experiences.  

  

Any end-of-year reflection would be incomplete without marveling at God's provision for housing for us in France.  We spent five months living in the city and five and a half months living in a suburb just outside of Paris.  In both places the Lord not only provided a place for us but a family to be a part of and to love and serve.  When you're walking by faith, you sometimes walk like Abraham, not knowing where you're going.  But when you obey like Abraham and go anyway, you really do get the immense joy of seeing the Lord provide just what you need.  Living with the Lowe's in the city gave us the chance to really get to know Paris.  Moving in next door to Noreen gives us the joy of serving her and a connection to England, someone to drink Yorkshire Tea with.  

And maybe it's because I watched It's a Wonderful Life last night, but I can't help but agree.  There is struggle and heartache and tears, but there are good friends and laughter, and grace.  And it really has been a wonderful year.

Packing

Since the time we began preparing to move to England four years ago, packing has been a constant theme in my life.  But not just packing for a vacation or short trip.  Packing for me has involved making lots of decisions all at once about every single item in my house.  I've never read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, but I've heard about it, and I feel like I've been through it except for me the categories have been:  give away, sell, store, or pack.  And having to make so many decisions like that in a short amount of time takes a toll on my brain's mental capacity.  Decision-making is not my strong suit.

The first time I went through this process I didn't think it was so bad.  I felt kind of glad for it.  I thought, "Everyone should do this once in their life."  It seemed like a good exercise in letting go of things, holding material possessions loosely.  And it was.  We arrived in England with eight suitcases:  clothes, toys, a few books, my good silverware, notebooks, homeschooling supplies, and snacks.  

When we moved into Capstick Cottage and unpacked our suitcases, the shelves felt bare, the new items I'd bought at IKEA unfamiliar, not really mine.  I learned firsthand what a character in Jan Karon's To Be Where You Are thought about the things that made up her life:  "How could people let go of their old things, when each told a part of their story?  Old things were a literature, a narrative."  In leaving behind most of my things, I felt a little un-moored from my life.  I no longer used the dishes bought for me by the women who surrounded me in my church as I grew up.  I no longer pulled the covers up over my head at night bought on a trip to Target with one of my first friends in Tuscaloosa.  I was no longer surrounded by the books from my childhood, old and dear friends.  Everything was new in my life, both outside the walls of my home and within.

Now, living where we did in England is the best place to live when you're in need of new possessions, pictures and plates and books to turn a house into a home.  Charity shops abound there.  And slowly my walls and bookshelves didn't look so bare anymore.  And with our last move that brought us to France and the smallest place we've ever lived as a family of four, we're surrounded by the new things that make up the newer chapters of our story:  books collected in Whitby and York, curtains bought at Wal-Mart on a trip home and carried across the Atlantic.  

Storage space is limited here so this week we're sorting again.  What do we want to give away?  What do we want to keep but can take back and store at our parents' houses?  We're really thankful our parents have opened up their homes to our possessions we didn't want to part with forever.  Maybe one day we'll part with some of those things, too, but for now, the favorite chair left at my mom's house tells a part of the narrative I don't want to part with yet, the chapter where an engaged 22-year-old me used my paycheck from Wal-Mart to purchase furniture for the home I looked forward to sharing with my soon-to-be husband.  Sometimes our possessions are like the stone Samuel laid called Ebenezer, "Thus far the LORD has helped us."  They call our minds back to times and places, provisions and graces.  And of course, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens...a time to plant and a time to uproot...a time to keep and a time to throw away..."  It comforts my heart tremendously to know there is a time for everything.

And now it's time to start school and keep packing.

Remember, Remember November

For the past four years that I've had a newer iPhone I've taken more pictures of our daily lives and put them all together each month, mostly because I realized I probably took at least one picture a day without even trying.  It's a fun way to be reminded of all that has happened at a glance.

I'd forgotten how many sunny days we had this month until I put these pictures together.  Ella and I joked that we could probably post a picture of beautiful fall leaves from every day this month because we took so many pictures whenever we went out.  

November 1 - Current Read-Aloud with the Kids

November 2 - Picture of Fall Foliage #1

November 3 - Sunny Saturday on the Seine

November 4 - A Favorite Quote (and justification for buying more books)

November 5 - A Little Frolic in the Forest 

November 6 - Walking the Dogs

November 7 - From the Outside Looking In

November 8 - Fall Foliage #2

November 9 - Making my own half and half 😊

November 10 - Pork Roast, Butternut Squash, and Broccoli in the pressure cooker (I put the roast back in for a few more minutes.)

November 11 - A Rainy Day Drive to Church

November 12 - Finally found the oatmeal and brown sugar in our local store!

November 13 - Fall Foliage #3

November 14 - Walking to the Grocery Store (Fall Foliage #4)

November 15 - Found a Charming English Bookshop

November 17 - Book Club Treat

November 18 - Bathroom View (Fall Foliage #5)

November 20 - A Cold Sunny Walk (The fall foliage has fallen.)

November 21 - Staff Thanksgiving

November 22 - Thanksgiving Fun

November 23 - All the leaves are gone.

November 24 - Reflection Pool

November 25 - It's Christmastime!

November 26 - Brought down the Christmas boxes from the attic

November 27 - I love my red wreath on my green door.

November 28 - Girls' Night

November 29 - Backyard Sentinel

November 30 - A Walk in the Park

This is our 310th day in Paris.  The year has felt full and good and fast.  I love this month of thankfulness before the calendar rolls over to all the Christmas sparkle and fun.  It's like a quiet pause, a chance to catch your breath.  

Something Different

Living in a different country than the one I was raised in gives me a heightened awareness of the things happening around me.  I notice what is the same and what is different, how what is different can usually be connected with what is familiar in some way.  

We've all had the experience of passing the homeless or down-and-out person on the street.  If you're from the southeastern United States like I am, it's probably been in your car.  If you're in a city it's outside a subway or on a crowded street.  We all struggle to know what to do in those situations and respond differently depending on how prepared we are or in how much of a hurry.  Sometimes we give money or pray for them as we go by.  In Alabama you might give them a bottle of water and a burger, a Coca-cola.  In Paris you often see such a person with a baguette and a bottle of wine.  

There's a man who sits outside our local supermarket.  He's nearly always there when I go inside.  I don't know his story, but I see him sit, and I watch people be kind, stopping to pass the time of day in a language I only understand the smallest fraction of.  Small towns are like that all over the world, I guess.  People slow down and care for one another.  

Some days I see a smattering of coins around him, sometimes that ever-present baguette or other food offering.  But one day as I was leaving the supermarket I noticed something I'd never noticed before in a situation like this.  There he sat, a fixture in this small town, surrounded by small houseplants and flowers.  I don't know who first left an offering of beauty, but for this day on the pavement there were flowers, bright spots of color on a grey day.

Friday Favorites, vol. xv

These are a few of my favorite things from this past week...

1.  Paris being home for a season

K.J. was away at a conference for the International Baptist Convention last week, so after four days of solo-parenting I was happy to get out of the house on my own.  I had a few errands to run in Paris, and as I walked by Notre Dame where hundreds of tourists maneuvered for the perfect angle for their picture it hit me afresh that this is where I live, that many of these streets feel familiar, and I know my way around, and I felt thankful.  

2.  The Christmas line at Marks and Spencer's

Speaking of places that were home, I also felt immensely grateful for the feeling of home I had in this English store Sunday night, filled with things that reminded me of so many memories in North Yorkshire.  When we first moved to Boroughbridge, the local supermarket carried a chocolate orange spread that delighted my husband because we've always loved the chocolate oranges my parents gift us for Christmas (unbeknownst to us, first created in Yorkshire!)  K.J. was ecstatic because not only could he buy said chocolate oranges for one pound, he could spread a delightful concoction on toast in the mornings.  A few months later this chocolate orange spread was discontinued but look what Marks and Spencer brought in for Christmas!  Christmas came early for K.J.

3.  The Canon remote shooting app

I haven't had cause to use it very often, but on a whim decided to take a picture of the four of us that wasn't a selfie.  I've used a remote before, but with my phone I can actually see us on the screen before taking the shot, which is a definite bonus. 

4.  A Child's History of the World

This copy has a super-weird cover, but I love referring back to this book when I want to discuss a topic we're not currently studying in school but is really relevant, e.g. this Sunday is 100 years since the first world war ended, and I wanted to give the kids an overview.  It is well-written and easy to understand.  I highly recommend it.

5.  Crash Course on YouTube

Before looking for a link to give you I didn't realize these two guys were brothers, which makes these even more amazing to me.  If you want a fun, quick overview of something in history or a refresher on something you forgot from your science class, I love watching these.  I often use them to supplement our science and history lessons.

6.  Usborne Illustrated Classics

I love illustrated classics of all kinds, but I mention Usborne because I bought James Treasure Island for Christmas two years ago, and he's just randomly picked it up to read on his own.  I think these beautifully illustrated books make classics much more fun to read aloud together or on their own because the pictures encourage them along through the challenging text.  Two years ago, I also bought Ella this copy of The Secret Garden with illustrations by one of our favorites, Lauren Child.  Plus, who doesn't love a beautiful book on their shelf?  I want to send my kids out into the world with a nice start for their home library.  

What are some of your favorite things from this past week?

Le Grand Trianon

Visiting the palace in Versailles is a popular touristy thing to do when you visit Paris, and we wanted to give K.J.'s parents a glimpse.  They got the more intimate tour because our favorite areas are around the Grand Trianon, the Petit Trianon, and Marie Anotoinette's hamlet.  It's a great place to ride bikes, so while the kids and our husbands went on a cycling adventure  T and I went inside the Grand Trianon, a smaller palace commissioned by Louis XIV.  I love this pretty blue room!

It has been a few years since I last walked through the Grand Trianon, and I was excited to see the terrace again.  It opens up to gardens on the left and a courtyard on the right and is so beautiful!

There's something about that open, light-filled space with that black and white floor that is stunning.

My other reason for preferring this back corner of the Versailles property is that there are gardens with flowers and grass.  The more formal gardens are all shrubs and perfectly trimmed trees along straight dusty paths.  

Our intention was to walk through the gardens to the hamlet Marie Antoinette had built so she could play at life as a peasant.  Unfortunately, I have long had a bone to pick with arrows on French signs.  They twist and turn and point in directions that don't always seem to indicate the direction they want you to go.  All that to say, we took a wrong turn at a sign and missed the hamlet.  We were treated instead to gorgeous fall trees in a quiet space devoid of all other visitors, so we weren't complaining.

I'd be happy to be lost here any day of the week.