french people have hearts, too/that time I got sick at the grocery...

French people tend to have a bad rep when it comes to interpersonal interactions. Even other french folks have described their fellow countrymen as cold, distant, unwelcoming...

In general, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt and rise up in their defense when I can, so even though I've had my moments here and there of bruised feelings after various interactions with people, here are a few of my people-can-be-so-kind moments to share:

•  The two women who work at the post office - one of them spent time talking me through the whole process of which envelopes were required, which ones would be best, which ones wouldn't cost an arm and a leg, which ones would actually be safest/most likely to be delivered in one piece, when I came in with questions based on the instructions I had to follow for sending off and receiving back Dave's renewed passport. The other woman was the one who patiently helped me through the above process once I actually had everything I needed the next week because the first visit had just been a reconnaissance mission. (And do not just chalk this up to good customer service! Customer service does not look the same here as it does in the states...)

•  The couple strangers nearby when I wiped out on a bike a few months ago - thankfully I was uninjured, but they both came over to make sure (ça va?? Oui, ça va, merci. vous êtes sûr?? Oui, merci beaucoup!). I do know others who haven't had the same experience when they've had bike mishaps, so thanks to those kind folks.

•  The secretary at the doctor I saw this morning - I do not expect people to bend over backwards to help when confronted with my still-less-than-ideal-though-improving french, so I truly appreciated her patience and clarity as she spoke slowly, wrote notes/used her hands to support her words, let me repeat what I thought I'd understood her tell me and kindly correct my misunderstandings. While it wasn't a lot, she took extra time for me without making me feel like a burden. What a gift!

And then the most dramatic example so far, and the inspiration for this post:

• The employees and fellow shoppers at the grocery store a couple weeks ago - I hadn't been feeling great for most of the day, but was feeling better and needed to go to the store to get ingredients for the dessert I planned to make that night for a game night and for a baby shower the next day. So I walked the 15 minutes to the grocery and was starting to pick my way through the produce section when I started feeling funny again - took off my coat to try to cool down, popped in a peppermint (my mom's sure-fire way to alleviate any type of nausea), and continued walking around. I'd made it to the apples when I determine that it was too late for the peppermint to help and there's a good chance I'm going to pass out and WHAT DO I DO I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A GROCERY AND WHERE DO I SIT AND UH OH.... Thankfully, I spotted an employee about ten feet away putting produce onto the refrigerated shelves. I make it over to him and manage some combination of french that communicates that I don't feel well and is there anywhere I can sit down. Precious man reaches down and shoves a bunch of cauliflower out of the way on the bottom shelf and helps me perch there. He is joined by a sixty-something year old precious fellow shopper who starts stroking my head and checking my pulse. They are both asking me questions which I'm trying to process and answer in french while I'm increasingly about to pass out so my eyesight and hearing are both clouding over. Somehow I manage to communicate this and precious woman helps me to the floor. I think at this point precious man has gone off to get a glass of water. Precious woman is still trying to find my pulse and then I realize I'm going to vomit which thankfully I was able to communicate ("to vomit" is vomir in french...definitely a helpful cognate!), so then precious woman picks up one of my empty produce bags and holds it for me, stroking my hair, while I throw up. Seriously, she wins Stranger of the Year Award! Whatever stomach bug/food poisoning it was was satisfied then thankfully and the potential of passing out dissipated. So with the fog lifted from my eyesight and hearing, I was able to see the several other kind fellow shoppers who had gathered to see if they could help and hear their questions and actually comprehend the french - have you eaten today? Yes are you pregnant? No are you diabetic? No do you have heart problems? No...etc etc. Precious man returned with water and to say he had called the pompiers to come. Precious woman explained that I'd vomited and was starting to feel better, and I explained that I didn't think I needed an ambulance. Precious man called them back to explain the situation and we all allowed as how, if I continued to get better, they didn't need to come. But precious man was not at all willing for me to walk home by myself. Thankfully we have friends who live nearby who I could call and they were able to come meet me. Once they were on route and I was continuing to feel better, precious woman said goodbye and went off to do her shopping, leaving me in the care of precious man (François, because by this time I can read his nametag on his uniform) who did not leave me until I was safely in the care of Tim and Paula, and who assured me that it had not been an inconvenience at all and to go home and rest. He wins my Monoprix Employee of the Year Award! I haven't seen him again yet, but I hope to so I can show him I'm better 😊

So anyways, y'all. It may not be like living in the South over here (maybe more like the Northeast 😉), but kindness is beautiful and it does exist! All over!

When I told this story briefly to a french friend (who went to university in Ohio) yesterday while we were discussing the differences in customer service/people's interactions here versus the states, his response was "well, yeah, I mean they still have hearts" - which is, of course, true. 

But I think it's worth paying special attention to. In fact, maybe it's even easier in a culture that's less warm-and-fuzzy/more cold-and-prickly at it's base to notice and be touched by the moments where people show us their hearts. Those are moments not to miss! 

And hopefully moments that we create in the lives of others, too. I pray we'll all go show our hearts today to someone who may need it 💙

daily a bride

I wrote this as a guest blurb for Emily's blog. Check her out at her website here! Her new newsletter will be up in a few days...

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So your friend and wedding photographer is coming for a visit and she asks you if while she's there you'd be up for getting back into your wedding dress to take some pictures. Obvious answer: "um...HECK YES!"

I knew that it was tucked away in the guest room, having made the trek across the ocean still carefully wrapped up in the box from the dry cleaners that I hadn't touched since getting it back after the wedding. Thankfully I could still wriggle into it, despite now living in the land of delicious baguettes!

Honestly, I'd anticipated feeling a little funny being all alone in front of the camera - not being a part of a pair, having someone to interact with - but rather just me, alone and exposed. But that was not the case at all! I've loved watching through social media as Emily has been learning, growing, honing, stretching her craft, and I'd already been able to experience it on her visit as I played being her "assistant" while she did shoots with some friends of ours. And her skills were equally evident as she guided me and put me at ease for this solo night --

Our wandering shoot itinerary was taking the funiculaire up the hill to the Roman amphitheatre, playing there for a while, walking up to the Notre Dame de Fourvière basilica, playing there for a while, walking down the hill through the gardens and stairways, playing along the way, and strolling home through Vieux Lyon's cobblestone streets. And "playing" is the best word I have to describe the night - just climbing onto and off of and into and around all sorts of old stone pieces at the amphitheatre; twirling and running around the courtyard of the basilica; smacking myself in the face after trying to look artsy with some branches...it was all just such fun, playing and laughing with my friend - who, by the way, was giving me great guidelines/instructions/suggestions so that I could know what to do instead of getting lost in that "alone and exposed" funny feeling that I'd anticipated but that never materialized.

I didn't have bridal portraits done before our wedding - just wasn't really my thing or something I cared to do - but I will say that, whether or not you did portraits beforehand, I highly recommend something like this after the fact! Now we have all of these beautiful photos of me that involved doing all sorts of things that would certainly not have been as fun and playful if I'd been thinking about keeping my dress clean or unmussed, etc. Heck, my dress still has a tear in the floofy-under-dress part from the grand ol' time I had at our reception ;) What a joy it was to get to wriggle back into this dress full of great memories and then play in it to make some more, worry-free.

And, certainly, it's something that is to-each-their-own, but I kind of love looking through these images and seeing the differences from the wedding day itself... We didn't do everything exactly the same - my hair is cut so it is different, we decided not to worry about my turquoise heels and some of the jewelry, it was chilly so we added my leather jacket...

You can see the passage of time and, for me, even more so the passage of life: that night was in a different piece of the world than our wedding, I spoke a different language to the people we bumped into, I had different things on my mind...

So I am grateful to have had this fun silly night with Emily, and now grateful to have these images. Time is passing, life is changing, I now own a leather jacket(!)...but I am still Dave's bride, covenanted to him in joy, dancing and twirling that night before an audience of only the One who witnesses each of the moments of our marriage when Emily isn't around to document them...

Just precious to have these images to remind me that, while I don't wear my wedding dress every day (alas!), I am daily a bride - to my Dave and to the Lord.

*all the photo credit to Emily Frazier Creative !

Grace Alone

Because God is faithful to respond to prayer (even when you are sometimes half-hearted about them and a little scared of them being answered) and often in unexpected/unlooked for ways, I've been having the opportunity recently to have weekly discussions with some folks regarding our different beliefs about who God is; the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus; our different Scriptures, etc.

I've been grateful to process these conversations with some others, and would love to talk more about any of this with any of you if you're interested, but the one thing I really wanted to share here is how much these conversations have caused me to reflect back on my own testimony and to just glory in the wonder of how far the Lord has brought me.

I don't have a testimony that has ever seemed like much because it's not dramatic on the outside - I wasn't saved out of drugs or alcoholism or any of the things that the world looks at and says "woah, hang on now..." Which I think is part of why it took me so long to really get the gospel -- I wasn't saved from the burden of lots of "badness"...

I was saved from the burden of my "goodness"

I knew and believed who Jesus was from a young age, was thrilled to be baptized by immersion on Easter Sunday at my home church, loved everything about being involved at church, in the choir, camps, mission trips...the whole kit and kaboodle.

I was the epitome of the "good girl." Didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't swear (except occasionally during field hockey games #confessions), didn't sleep with my boyfriend (as though not crossing that line doesn't still leave the opportunity for plenty of regrets), loved my parents, loved my friends, was the mom of the friend group looking out for everyone, participated in Bible study and knew the "right" answers...

I knew Jesus loved me and so I was going to do everything right to make sure I deserved it!

At least on the outside, the things that I knew people could see and expected of me and I should be doing - so say all the nice things but don't worry about the judgmental thoughts in my head and heart or the gossiping with just one friend here or there; don't have sex but don't worry about the other stuff that nobody has to know about and all the lust in my head; and it's pretty easy to not smoke or drink or swear when you just don't try to be real friends with "those" people because, you know, your lives are just so different...

I lived my bubble life mostly contentedly until sophomore year of college when the bubble popped and the sand of my own ability to always get it right crumbled as the foundation of my faith.

And thank the Lord that he was right there with me -- through friends, through the Word, through his Spirit -- ready for me to finally receive his explanation to me of what his grace really means:

I love you.

Not because you try really hard and act "good".

I love you because you are mine.

Mine! 

I see what you hide from others - the things that no one else can know

and I love you and claim you as mine.

You can't earn this.

You could work yourself to exhaustion every day and not have "done" enough to earn this.

Let go of that burden.

Don't worry that I'll leave you where you are,

you know yourself and you're right that you're broken,

you're right that you have growing to do

but you don't have to do it yourself!

If you will just let yourself be hidden up in Jesus

and just seek to love me

and to know me

I will change you.

I won't stop the work I've started in you,

and you could never guess where I'll take you anyway

so why are you fighting so hard to do what you think is right?

My plan is so much bigger than yours --

I just need you to finally trust me enough to believe me about grace...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

I still relapse sometimes - into legalism, into believing it is works-based righteousness...but it is getting more rare.

Because oh the life-changing FREEDOM that is grace in Jesus.


*I wanted to share this song that is just it for me right now - spot on, yes.

This is a cover of the original, but it's my favorite version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Z2on2bhXOY  (if the link doesn't work, search "King's Kaleidoscope Grace Alone" on youtube)

Here are the lyrics:

I was an orphan, lost at the fall; Running away when I'd hear you call, But Father, you worked your will.

I had no righteousness of my own I had no right to draw near your throne, But Father, you loved me still. And in love, before you laid the world's foundation, You predestined to adopt me as your own. You have raised me up so high above my station; I'm a child of God by grace, and grace alone You left your home to seek out the lost; You knew the great and terrible cost But Jesus, your face was set. I worked my fingers down to the bone; But nothing I did could ever atone, But Jesus, you paid my debt. By your blood I have redemption and salvation. Lord you died that I might reap what you have sown, And you rose that I might be a new creation. I am born again by grace, and grace alone. I was in darkness all of my life, I never knew the day from the night, But Spirit, you made me see. I swore I knew the way on my own; Head full of rocks, a heart made of stone But Spirit, you moved in me. And at your touch my sleeping spirit was awakened; On my darkened heart the light of Christ has shone. Called into a kingdom that cannot be shaken; Heaven's citizen by grace, and grace alone. So I'll stand in faith by grace, and grace alone I will run the race by grace, and grace alone I will slay my sin by grace, and grace alone I will reach the end by grace, and grace alone

Amen and glory to Jesus for the work that he has done and is continuing!

*as I mentioned towards the beginning, I'd love to talk to you if any of this makes you wonder, question, or just want to chat. 

Love to each of you!

People are precious

People are precious. A truly necessary part of life. Whether your personality type has you needing a whole bunch or just a couple, you need someone.

Slow down a minute and think about how precious somebody or lots of somebodies are in your life - big moments or little moments - consider the moments that wouldn't have been the same or possible or accomplished without the somebodies in your life.

I'm reminded of how precious people are, how created for community we are...

...when I get to spend a week of quality time with friends who invested the time and resources and time off to come visit this side of the world;

...when we don't get home until 6pm from lunch after church because new friends take the time to sit around laughing and sharing and teaching us french;

...when texting with my brother-in-law as he grieves his dear papa moving from this life into eternity;

...when I don't realize that facetiming with my family for father's day will include seeing friends I haven't hugged in a year and a half, and the unexpectedness and wonderfulness of seeing them causes me to weep (I mean, really, ugly crying happened) for wishing I was there in person;

...when my four year-old nephew ruins the surprise of a package because he doesn't understand that mail takes time so he immediately asks me if I've "eaten the treats that aren't allowed in France" yet :) (don't worry - "not allowed" is apparently how's he's understood his mom when she said they can't be found in France);

...when a friend in my still-feels-new life knows me well enough to recognize when my "I'm fine" is a little off;

...when praying constantly in the waiting as dear friends are at the hospital laboring for their baby girl;

...when Jesus keeps after the slow process of making me more aware of the people around who just want someone to talk to, just need some interaction with another person - because they need to remember they're precious...

People are so very precious - don't take them for granted. Every day there are more stories of lives lost - whether accidents, sickness, the brokenness of people tearing at the lives of other people - why waste a minute of not remembering how much you treasure the everyday people in your life?

Take the 15 seconds to send the text just saying hi.
Make the tiny effort to make eye contact, smile, and say hello to the person you find in front of you: the cashier, the other person waiting for the elevator or the bus, the dog owner with the same walking route, the neighbor at the mailbox, wherever!
Call the friend who keeps crossing your mind and you just keep forgetting to actually reach out - the Spirit puts people on our hearts for a reason, maybe they need to hear your voice :)

Everyone needs to know they're seen, they're recognized, they're precious. Why not take the moment to remind them?

The worst thing that can happen is they don't respond - that's okay, maybe they're busy, or didn't hear you, or don't know how to respond. No harm, no foul - just keep on doing you.

The best thing that can happen is you make a day. You probably won't even know you did. But they will know - they will remember that they are precious.

Go make somebody's day :)

Writing, Everyday faithfulness, & Pentecost

Some people have encouraged me to write again, so I have an intention* to write more frequently here now. *the disclaimer is that "intention" does not equal "goal" - if it was a goal, it would have a place on our 2017 Goals spreadsheet where I would be able to track it having thought through the SMART goal process and where I would see my percentage of progress versus the percentage of the year gone, etc etc (seriously, we have that and it's awesome). But it's just an intention so I give myself the wiggle room to be a bit flaky with it. Perhaps next year it will make the Goals spreadsheet. For now my intention is to write a bit more and, if nothing else, it will make my mom happy. Hi, Mom :)

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I had the opportunity to go to the Colour Conference in London at the beginning of May with some other women from my church, where we met up with about 12,000 other women from around the world -- I believe they said there were 42? 49? countries represented -- pretty awesome.

I was really looking forward to having concentrated time in smaller groups with women from church with the hopes that I'd be able to create new and strengthen preexisting friendships now that my french is so much stronger. I'm grateful to say that that happened. For the conference in general, each speaker was strong in different ways and I need to finish going back over my notes and relistening to the voice recordings I made of the talks (I meant to do that the week after the conference, but was not disciplined. I'm getting better at discipline slowly but surely.)

But where God really met me was the idea of being found in the field as the "everyday" woman that I am.

We've been in France for about sixteen months and it's really been a time of growth and change. Recently, though, I've struggled again with "but what is my goal, my purpose here?" (I always know I'm looking to people again for my worth when I start struggling with that question, but it's still hard to shake sometimes. Fixing my eyes solely on Jesus is a learned choice and I have to relearn it with my wandering heart often.)

The Lord reminded me during the conference, with the speakers, with a conversation with a dear and true friend, and then with my Bible study when I got home, that there is such worth in being faithful in my everyday life. In 2 Timothy 2:20-21, Paul talks about the stuff in a house and how there are things that are made for a special purpose and there are other things that are made for everyday/common purposes. But with the sanctification of God, the things prepared only to be common can be used for extraordinary purposes.

And that is my life. I am an everyday woman and there is SUCH WORTH in my choice to do the things in my life -- the things that seem sometimes just too little to have importance -- the interactions with the people who are found just in front of me at each moment -- even if no one else even sees it, there is such worth in my choice to do these things with faithfulness. And that gives glory to God.

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Today is Pentecost - the birthday of the first church - the day that the Spirit descended on the apostles and first followers, coming on them in power in a way that changed their lives (and all of ours) forever.

God is in the process of teaching me about prayer recently -- I'm reading A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller and I highly recommend it -- and when I was thinking about Pentecost this weekend the Lord organised some thoughts for me to share at church this morning (just at a briefing of the teams during setup, not before the congregation):

Prayer is a mystery - we cannot understand really the process, how it works, etc. But in Daniel 10:12, we see a clear example that prayer in fact causes things to move -- it says: "Then he said to me, 'Fear not, Daniel, for from the first day that you set your heart to understand and humbled yourself before your God, your words have been heard, and I have come because of your words.'" This was probably not the response that Daniel had been expecting to the situation, but his words caused things to move, something was put into motion by his praying: "I have come because of your words"!

In the Old Testament, we learn stories of the rare people who were as faithful as possible without Jesus, and how God chose to use them -- and he spoke with and listened to these people.

But that is the thing that Pentecost changed!

When Jesus died and resurrected, the giant, heavy curtain that separated the Holy of Holies from the people was destroyed and the obstacle between all of us and the Lord was removed.

When Jesus ascended and sent the Spirit to anoint the first believers, that gave us the new method of communication! The obstacle was no more, we are ALL the ones that God chooses to speak with and listen to because the Spirit is our power to pray. I especially love the reminder in Romans that, it is not only by the power of the Spirit that we pray, but the Spirit also prays for us when we don't know what to pray -- interceding for us when we have nothing but groans. (Anyone else been clinging to that when our hearts groan brokenly at the news of more lives lost too frequently?)

Our words are heard by the living God and these words cause things to happen. It may not look like we expect, we don't know how it works, but prayer puts things - in me and in the world - in motion.

Wow. What a reminder I need to actually do it.

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French update:

Fun fact - both the section about everyday faithfulness and the section about Pentecost I had to translate into English because both of those are things I shared in front of groups of people, writing and delivering them in french!

And related to that fun fact - my english brain is becoming mushier as my french mush becomes slightly more solid. So forgive my weird sentence structure at times, and I tried to catch it if I ever used french words mixed in but might have missed some.

And I went to a baby shower for about 4 hours today and existed close to entirely in french, managing to follow most things, express myself almost every time I wanted to, and did not leave with a headache or feeling totally overwhelmed/spent!

Y'all. Such progress.