{Re-blog: Line 13 Domination}

Last week my roommate Brittany and I decided to embark on an adventure which we have been planning for a while.

For some reason, we've always wanted to talk along our metro line.

We live on the very north end and have thought it would be great to walk along the streets above the underground metro all the way to the very end of the line- which is on the south side of Paris.

We set out on what turned out to be over 4 hours and 10 miles long but in the end we were triumphant!

Brittany documented the entire trip via photos and posted them on her blog which you can check out here.

Currently thankful for: adventurous roomies, sunshiney days and strong legs.

mgw

{Tours, FR}

After meeting in Bruxelles and returning to Paris afterwards, Jon and I decided to take another day excursion somewhere else. We've spent a lot of time in Paris, and it is always FANTASTIC, but we both wanted to try something new and go somewhere that neither of us has been. (Insert winy "I live in Paris and get tired of it sometimes" comment) We woke up before the crack of dawn and ventured down to Paris Montparnasse train station and took a train to Tours, France.

I've always wanted to travel to Tours. UA has a summer study-abroad program there and many of my French major friends participated in it so I've always had a little envy about the French country-side lifestyle.

We arrived at 8:30 in the morning (a little over an hour for a direct train ride from Paris) and set out to walking around the city. We ate breakfast in a park, explored the gardens of the Musée des Beaux Arts, visited the large cathedral in the center of the city and found a large stuffed elephant.

#typical #RTR

Flags along the Pont Wilson crossing the Loire River

Hotel de Ville (Town Hall)

I've heard through various avenues that you can rent bikes and go about the city for the day but when I started doing research I found this company that allows you to rent bikes for anywhere from a 1/2 day to lots of days to choose the length of your own excursion. They have bike locations in cities all along the Loire River valley and you can turn you bike back in at any of these locations. 

The Loire River stretches from the Atlantic Ocean through the central region of France. 

It's banks are dotted with chateaus and villages and little swimming holes. 

The trail we biked was mostly right along the river. It was an absolutely PERFECT day weather wise. 

We stopped and ate our lunch on a rocky beach next to the water's edge. It was like being in a dream!

Jon + bicycle on a plaza overlooking the river.

We decided we wanted to do a half-day (4 hours for 10Euros/bike) and bike to Amboise. Amboise is a town about 30km away from Tours and it's home to the chateau where Leonardo Da Vinci is buried.

This is a view of Amboise from a bridge crossing the river. We didn't actually go into the chateau because it was crazy expensive! We did, however, eat gelato and visited a museum in their town hall. 

We were super thankful for a sunny and warm day together... even if it meant sore muscles and extreme sunburn the next day.

Grâce à Dieu!

{the good shepherd}

I don't do creative things.

In fact, one things I've resolved to do this year is to start making more things with my hands. To make food or crafts or forts, whatever as long as they're trying something knew and learning how to not depend on a recipe or step-by-step instructions for it. 

The longer I live overseas, the more I've come to learn that as spontaneous and adventure-loving as I am, I like having a plan. I always use a recipe when I cook, I always follow step-by-step instructions and I like efficiency. 

These are all things I've learned I have to sacrifice living overseas. Yes. Even in France. Things are not efficient here in any strict definition of the word. Sometimes you get cut in line by everybody at the metro ticket desk. Sometimes the bus doesn't show up or the bank is randomly closed with no explanation. Seriously, I'm surprised this country is still running. There is no clear-cut process or any idea of "efficiency" here. I'd expect that if I was living in Sub-saharan Africa. Not in France. Not in the country of the Tour-de-France and the Cannes Film Festival. 

So my need for instruction, for a plan, that's part of my identity. I could tell you the hundreds of little pieces of life that have formed me to be this way. I could tell you about forgetting to add an egg to a batch of brownies I made as a little girl and crying afterwards because they were ruined (my mother still hugged me and said they were delicious), about planning my own birthday party in 5th grade (and meticulously decorating my backyard and karaoke machine) and how I am a terrible wanderer when walking (I walk fast, always). There are loads of details and things that have made me come to realize that I like a plan. I like a recipe and clear direction and with those in mind I can experiment and have an adventure and build forts. 

I like a plan so much that I focus on the plan. My life and identity are built around the process and the plan and not the destination or yet, on the one who guides me through the plan. 

Listening to a talk that a friend of mine gave on John 10, she described how Jesus is our Good Shepherd. Instead of walking behind the flock of sheep, shepherds in this part of the world would walk ahead of the flock so that the sheep would follow behind. Each sheep knew his shepherd, and the shepherd would know his sheep. He would walk out in front to prepare the path for the flock following him. 

This is how Jesus is with us. 

He will never push you into a place where he has not gone before you and prepared a way through for you. He will not call you to a foreign land or to a new job and leave you deserted.

The fact that He has called me to do something does not make it easy, but it does make it significant. He loves us more than to give us an easy life. He wants us to have a full and abundant life. 

Moving overseas was not the end of obedience, it was the beginning for me. Accepting this job, moving overseas and buying a metro card was not the grand, final, super spiritual act of my life, but a step of obedience towards my leader. 

As believers, Jesus shows us that He is the Good Shepherd in how he stewards us and teaches us in our time with Him. It is as we learn who Jesus is, who our shepherd is, that we respond. We recognize the call of our leader and are compelled to respond. 

This is a beautiful image to think about. Christ knows us deeply and intimately. Nothing in his flock is hidden from him. He knows them and loves them the same. He knows that we are silly sheep and that we will wander away at times, but He loves from the front of time. He loved first and loves us still. 

We are Known. Understood and Delighted in by our Shepherd. It is after we grasp this identity that we have direction and are fulfilled in what we do. He has handed me an identity and in return He asks me to step forward.

Everyday.

In a land that is vastly inefficient.

And in a ministry that seems impossible most days.

This is the only plan we need. This is the direction that has been given to us for our good and for His glory.

So in a commemoration of this lesson and the hours of soul-searching this provoked, I made something with my hands.

{meredith in paris in december}

Some really fantastic things happened in December:

I traveled to Étretat, FR with 5 awesome ladies.

I visited this friend and celebrated Jesus' birthday with her.

Floranie is my friend and incidentally my French language partner. She is kind, gracious, hospitable and grossly overestimates my technological capabilities. She has twice asked me to help her fix up her fancy new TV to her cable and a DVD consol. Neither time was I successful, woops.

I taught 5 full 1 1/2 hour French lessons to 20+ North African women. I'm sure I made numerous mistakes, but nothing too grave.

I continued working with my friend L on English lessons. She still struggled pronouncing the English "-th" and "h" sounds and I struggled figuring out how to teach that. We laughed a lot, drank lots of tea and she fed me many many apple pastries after I told her I love apples.

I met weekly with the ladies from my team for fellowship, prayer and time in the Word together. We are going through 1 Corinthians right now.

Our team had a Christmas party at my supervisor's house and I made THIS:

Brittany, Ruth Ann and I made 12 plates filled with home-made banana bread, chocolate covered pretzels, clementines and sweet candies and gave them to neighbors in our building, our local bakery owner, and our land-lord. We gave them the plates, wrapped up in green bows along with Christmas cards explaining the birth of Jesus in French. We prayed over these plates as we passed them out and it was a fun opportunity to meet some families we've only seen in passing and to let them know that we love them and want to be active in our community and in our building! I'm praying that in the following months, with warmer weather and warmer demeanors we will be able to spend time outside of our building meeting women and girls who are our neighbors.

I met with a small group of women each representing different "sending" organizations. We are all here doing similar work with the same people group and this was a time of sharing and encouragement as well as training for discipleship and ev work. It's such a blessing to be able to partner with other like-minded believers on this side of the world!

I went to England to see Jon. We bought Spongebob drum sticks for a 3 year old friend, drank beaucoup of tea, played games with English friends, played games with American friends, cooked foods that reminded us of home and took a fairly hectic trip back to Paris via boat via bus.

Lots of wonderful friends came to visit us and spend the beginning of the New Year in Paris. We reflected on God's faithfulness to us in our present countries and his faithfulness to us throughout the year. We spent Sunday studying Hebrews together and singing songs in English in my living room and we spent New Years Eve walking through the months of 2012 sharing happy and sad memories but all that reflected the goodness of God. It was a sweet time and I'm so thankful for this time with them.

December was full and draining, but ultimately left me Full.

The Father reminded me of and renewed my joy through the advent season reflecting on the gift of His Son to humanity. I learned about Peace, about joy, and a lot a lot about obedience.

Thank you for remembering me during this time, for sending sweet Christmas cards and tweets and emails and for supporting the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering. You are each a huge blessing to me.

{the state of being}

At the beginning of December all of the ladies on my team were able to travel for  a weekend away from the big city. There were 6 of us: 3 journeymen girls and 3 ladies who are married. We piled up in one of the family's mini-vans and drove 3 hours north of Paris to a small village called Les Loges. Driving out of the city was beautiful because it had snowed the night before and though next to no snow sticks on the streets of the city, the countryside was covered with a beautiful white dusting! We arrived and settled into our bed and breakfast for the weekend. We had prepared and packed all of our food for the weekend and since we were the only people staying in the house, we had it all to ourselves! 

On Saturday we headed to Fecamp, a 30 minute drive through the countryside where we went to a large marché and admired our first view of La Manche (French for English Channel) We then drove along the coast to the city of Êtretat, our ultimate destination for the weekend. Êtretat is a small village on the coast which is characterized by several large arches spanning from the top of the cliffs to the grey-blue water of the channel. Monet painted several works on the beach looking out at these arches and after reaching the beach it was obvious why.

Monet's Porte d'Aval

Meredith's Porte d'Aval + crate

It was cold and windy but we were bundled up and resolved to walk to the top of one of the first arches that we saw. At the top we found a breathtaking view of the English Channel in the distance, of waves crashing below us on the shoreline and the combed back grass that had been beaten down by years of blustering wind. It was a scene out of my imagination. The older ladies decided to head back down to the beach while Brittany, Ruth Ann and I decided to walk farther over to the next hill. Once we got there we sat down and dangled our legs over the edge of the cliff, almost taunting mother nature to blow us over. I'll probably regret that decision at some point, but in the moment it was a rush to feel the wind blowing around my feet knowing there were only grass and rocks to hold onto, no guard rails or insurance liabilities. As we sat there admiring the inhibition we felt, the grey clouds parted and sun burst through onto the water. La Manche immediate transformed from stormy grey to a brilliant green-blue and we sat there together admiring the Creator of it all. At the particularly grey and cloudy point where I was at that time emotionally, it was a vivid remind of the faithfulness of my God to renew my weak passions and to sustain me forever. After 5 minutes of light dancing across the waters and the cliffs, the clouds moved again to cover the sun, but nothing was ever quite as dark as it was before. 

After such a religious experience, we climbed back down the hills to the beach, RA decided to stick her feet in the cold waters and we traipsed about the town until we decided that it was time to travel on. We stopped at a goat farm and bought gourmet chocolates made from goat's milk, drove up another hill for a view of the entire village of Êtretat and then meandered on home. We spent the evening eating soup next to a large stone fireplace, playing question games and reading 1 Corinthians together. 

Êtretat, the name of the village, is a really interesting name to me. The best I can deduce from my amateur experience with French (disguised as an undergraduate degree) would be that it comes from two different French words. "Être" is the verb "to be" while "etat" means "state or condition." The meaning that I've assigned based on these facts is that the village name means, "the state of being." 

I really like the symbolism of the village name, "the state of being." This weekend retreat couldn't have come at a better point. The end of November brought a flood of emotion from my first Thanksgiving away from home, the onset of a hard and heavy case of culture shock, and a season of distance from the Lord (always me running, no doubt) Being able to escape to the north, to let down the guard of tough skin that one must develop to cope with living in a huge city, to sit next to a fire and laugh and cry and reflect with these women, it was bliss. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that this weekend was instrumental in helping revive my spirits to continue working during December and to prepare me for Christmas away from home. 

me, blissfully next to La Manche

{noteworthy pictures}

note old couple sitting on bench and hoodlum youth in background. 

this lady and her coat.

every Sunday afternoon hundreds of people meet up and rollar blade through the streets of Paris. I will be doing this when it gets warmer outside. 

I found this old letter block at an antique market. Kabyles are Berbers from North Africa = my peoplee!

this dog. he's huge. he doesn't deserve to live in a small apartment he deserves to live on a farm with a big porch he can lay on all day.

where I eat my nutella sometimes. balcony overlooking La Defense (tall buildings in distance)

yes these are beads for your Christmas tree translated as "heading towards the future"

No, I have no idea what that has to do with Christmas or Santa riding a rocket ship. 

{Novemburr}

How quickly time is passing! I can hardly believe that in a few short days I will have been in Paris two months. I've been stuck in this strange tension of wanting to feel established and know how everything operates yet I also excuse myself for not knowing things that I should and I at times chose timidity over boldness- using the excuse that I'm new here and don't need to know everything yet. I think it's this tension that has worn on me the most.

I  complained to Jon after I had been here two weeks that I was ready for establishment, ready for community and local friends and women to pour into. I expressed a deep envy for his life and ministry and the connection he has in the city where he lives. I had been here two weeks! 14 days. I scarcely allowed myself time to recover from jet lag let alone build deep and lasting friendships and a solid connection to my new home. How silly I must have sounded (yet how patient and encouraging he was). I'm thankful that God gives us enough tasks to handle at the right time because what my short-sightedness saw then is little comparison to what life has become now.

 These two months have been filled with the establishment of new routines, speaking lots and lots of French, multiple bank appointments and the budding of new friendships. I'm now working with two NA ladies teaching them English and praying for more and more opportunities to be present in their lives. I meet each week with a local French women who blesses me through her kindness, gentleness and servant heart to practice conversation and pronunciation. Three times a week I am at our ladies literacy classes and I have been transitioning into teaching. And each week I meet with the other women on my team for prayer, scripture and much needed english-speaking girl time. In all of this I'm starting to read several books to help me understand and better approach ministry among Muslims, attempting to buy a cell phone plan and spending quality belly laughs with Ruth Ann and Brittany. This is my life now. It will be my life for a while! And I am thankful that God has promised to sustain and lead me through it all (and the many many more tasks that will fall into it).

This is me with John Calvin. You could make an argument that he is apart of my daily life now, but we won't go there. This was taken in Orleans, France several weeks ago while I was visiting a friend. I still have not figured out why it was there or if John Calvin had any ties to Orleans, France. This picture makes me chuckle every time I see it. Why is his mouth open? What was he holding in his right hand? Was he really that tall?