Des souvenirs, J'en ai beaucoup (Memories, I have a lot of them...)

The change seemed to take place overnight, literally, and Grenoble is now humming with holiday frenzy!  Yesterday after seeing Jessie off at the train station, I walked through a downtown that was transforming before my very eyes: store owners hung elaborate ornaments and garlands in their windows, strings of white lights illuminated every road, and temporary wooden huts and tents crowded huge public squares as the Christmas market started to take shape, form, and character.  I jumped into the fluid motion of the masses, whisked into dozens of Grenoblois who seem to have appeared from nowhere to start their holiday shopping.  The energy was contagious!  I AM SO EXCITED FOR CHRISTMAS IN GRENOBLE (although for the actual holiday I’ll be home with my family… best of both worlds, eh?).

There’s a lot I want to write about right now…. the amazing testimony I heard in church this morning, the splendid lunch I had at Granny’s home this afternoon, my precious time with Jessie the past three days, my awesome time in Paris.  I think for now I must settle with a brief story to represent each:

This morning in church we heard from the father of a Chinese member of our church, Lilan.  He spoke up front, completely in Chinese, and described how his extended visit to see his daughter in France became the most transforming event of his life.  He came to France an atheist and will leave a new Christian.  His story is amazing, one that showcases so beautifully the power of God’s word, the power of the Christian community, and the power of the Lord’s Spirit.  It also reminded me of the power of prayer—for with other women in the church just a few weeks before, I had joined to pray for these people whom I had never met.  God’s on the move.

~ . ~ . ~

Granny invited Renee and I over for lunch with her three granddaughters, and I felt so privileged to be welcomed into her home and given the opportunity to experience a true French meal.  Here’s some things to know about that: an alcoholic aperitif with finger food is a highly valued part of the pre-meal~ your piece of bread is put directly on the table and if you need more you never hesitate to ask~ you go through a lot of dishes during a true French meal~ pork roast and apples go really well together~ French cheese is scary if you don’t know how it is going to taste~ dessert will always be something more original than cookies and brownies and it will always be great~ european chocolate is so much better than the American variety~ you will usually feel like taking a nap after a French meal because of the wine and that "full" feeling!

~ . ~ . ~

As I write this, Jessie’s water bottle sits on my desk and the watch she forgot is still hooked to my bed frame—pardon the sentimentality, but I miss Jessie a whole lot!  She is one of my very best friends at Truman and she was able to come down to Grenoble Wednesday night and stay until Saturday late afternoon (during her Thanksgiving break).  We didn’t have a huge agenda for our time; honestly, most of what we did was talk about anything and everything for three days straight. We changed surroundings, of course: from my cozy little dorm room, to a hike in the mountains around Grenoble; from Rabot’s tiny kitchen, to the thanksgiving dinner table with my American friends; from the wonderful city gardens (Jardin de Ville), to a favorite tea shop downtown (and every place in between).  It was an overwhelming, undeserved gift, having the privilege of sharing Grenoble with someone whom I love so dearly.  Since my family won’t be able to come for Christmas, she is the closest to family that gets to see the life I live here.  Jessie’s presence allowed me to greater realize how far I’ve come and gave me a fresh appreciation for all that is my life here.  The visit was encouraging, sharpening, a tremendous blessing.  The Lord gave us such a good weekend.   I love and miss you, Jessie!  Thanks a thousand times over for coming.

~ . ~ . ~

And then….. how to recount just one story from Paris?  We’ll do it this way….

Favorite museum: Musee D’Orsay, hands down.  I wanted to melt, looking at all that wonderful impressionist art on the 5^th floor. 

Favorite meal: late afternoon escargots (loved them), rose wine, cheese plate, and bread at Taverne Henri IV.  Felt French through and through.

Favorite purchase: 1953 copy of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo… with the back page missing!  It's the five book complete set, fragile and falling apart.  Maybe I’m weird, but I just love that!

Favorite morning visit: Versailles with Jessie.  Oh my gosh, it's such a stunning palace (and that's not even mentioning the gardens!!). Everyone must see this place; it's the epitome of French monarch culture.  Favorite sighting: Louis XIV’s alarm clock. Ha.

Favorite area of the city: St. Germain, mostly because we wandered here when Jessie and Kamiah first arrived and it was such a pleasure to have happy, great conversation with them!  But St. Germain is also where you can find two of the most famous cafes in town (where people like Ernest Hemingway used to frequent), as well as where we found a great old man street band, and a personable crepe stand owner.

Favorite funny moment: strolling Paris at night and spotting the U.S. flag-- after verifying that the building it was hanging near was in fact the U.S. embassy, we both turned back to take a photo (we were proud).  However, the French policemen patrolling the front immediately shouted at us, and one came alllll the way across the street.  He told us to immediately erase the photos we had taken (I thought he was going to arrest me or make me profess my nationality or something).  Apparently, it is against the law to take pictures of the U.S. embassy, even if it’s the one in France.  And there’s a funny French policeman standing in front to make sure of it.

(p.s. more pictures of Paris... my favorites... are rolling on the slideshow to the right!).

~ . ~ . ~

Well, here's to bits of pieces of lots of random thoughts, all rolled into one post.   : )

Pray for God’s work to take on new dimensions here as I finish out what has been an absolute blessing of a semester in France!  Much love to my family and friends… not a day goes by when I don’t miss you.

Humbled and Thankful~ 

 

....and the minute.

I want to thank you, Lord, for life and all that's in it.
Thank you for the day and for the hour, and the minute.

Maya Angelou

I wanted to make sure I wrote a quick something on this night and on this holiday, especially for this season of my life.   And I guess it's not so much so I could express my thanksgiving in generalities..... instead, as I was brushing my teeth and reading the little sayings and scriptures I stare at every day, I was struck by Angelou's words, written on a small piece of stained glass dangling from a corner of my mirror.  I'm especially affected by how she finishes what begins as a very general song of thanksgiving. 

Thank you for the minute.

Do I say that enough?  I am exceedingly thankful for life and all that's in it.  THANKFUL.  And maybe everyone says that (at least, on this holiday, you've got to muster up some sort of sentiment of the sort regardless of life's current circumstances, right?).  Maybe it's easy to say that because, well, "natalie, you're living in EUROPE" (and that's freakin' awesome!!).  But as I reflected on Angelou's beautiful words, I join her simple--and specific-- hymn of praise.  Yes, Lord: I am thankful for life, for my family, for good health, for a great place to study, for friends......

but I am also thankful for how hard I laughed with Elisabeth tonight (mostly as she laughed at me).

I am thankful for the sweet conversation I had with Jessie for a good part of the night as we sprawled out on my dorm room bed and enjoyed being with each other for the first time in three months.

I am thankful for the Vercours, the Chartreuse, and the Belledonne mountains, always the mountains.  But specifically today I'm thankful for the Belledonne, because they stand the most tall, and they change colors and moods as I do.   They remind me that You are God and I am but human. yet--- I am your child.

I am thankful for the amazing macaroni and cheese that Richie brought tonight for our Thanksgiving meal, and for an opportunity to laugh around the table with friends that are soon becoming 'family.'

I am thankful that despite it's difficulty, I am still enjoying the pursuit of French language mastery SO MUCH and I am progressing steadily and with increasing surety.


I am thankful for the hot shower I just took, even if I have to push a button to keep the water going every five seconds and, after midnight, the lights go off and I have to shower in almost complete darkness (yep, that applied tonight :).

I am thankful for my 'wall of love' that I get to look at every day, which is covered in letters, drawings, and Scripture, reminding me of the countless people who care enough to encourage me and share their lives with me even as I live here.

I am thankful for the tears that welled up tonight as I talked to my family and saw all four of their faces appear on my computer screen.  Those tears were rich in love; I'll never quite realize the value of the unity and support we have for one another.  To me, these are the most precious people on the planet.

I am thankful that Jessie Elledge, in the flesh, is sleeping next to me as I type this at my desk! (did i already mention how thankful I am that she came all the way here, that I get to have her for three days?!).  And I am thankful that Skype worked so she could talk to Jbox.

And then I think about the Lord, about the gratitude I feel simply because I am invited into a living, healing, transforming, love-relationship with the Lord, the Lord who gave all this to me.  The Lord who gave his all for me.  That, friends, is always what I will be most thankful for.  I seek to live with the attitude of the psalmist: "Apart from You, I have no good thing" (psalm 16).  So let me declare tonight, as Thanksgiving ends for me here: Apart from the Lord I have no good thing.

Gratitude is great no matter how it's expressed, but gratitude in generalities loses part of its grandeur.  Be a person that pays attention to the day.  And the hour.  And the minute.  God is to be discovered in all circumstances, and I'm so convinced that as you experience God in a moment, you will have no response but to be thankful.

As I heard it said and what has stuck with me: Joy doesn't render us grateful; gratitude renders us joyful.

Tonight I am rejoicing, rejoicing, rejoicing in every good gift.  In every good minute.  In every detail of Who God is and all I have still to know in Him.

On a holiday that is so loved in the United States and that I get to celebrate through skype and sentiments : HAPPY THANKSGIVING (or in one of the translated french versions, 'bon jour de grâce")!

Fête de la Raclette!

Tonight, I hung out with five other volleyball friends at a teammate's apartment.... we experienced the very popular "Raclette" for dinner (how to explain..... melted cheese goodness?  just see the pictures).  The girls speak quickly and use a whole lot of slang, but I was proud to have followed the conversation and added things as often as I could.  These girls are great.  These girls are FRENCH through and through.  Needless to say, it was a memorable night.

More on Paris to come.....I get giddy thinking I get to write about it! : D

Jessie Elledge, one of my best friends from Truman State, shows up at Grenoble's train station tomorrow at 7:33pm!  She will spend nearly 3 full days here and I CANNOT WAIT to share Grenoble with someone so close to me.  Pray for a wonderfully fun and enriching time with her!  Pray especially that SHE would be greatly encouraged by what the Lord has to show her here, and by the fellowship we share when together.  I am quite anxious to spend some good time with someone who knows me so well.  Not to mention, to make up for the countless hugs I lack every day here! ; )  On the itinerary: the Bastille, hiking, Museum of Grenoble, campus, volleyball game, down town wandering, ice skating......

But I return to my orginal thought: here are pictures from tonight's hangout!

me, Perrine, and Coline... can you tell Perrine is a jokester? (and also one of my favorites??)

Cecile and Rosine, ready to get this started!

it was Elisabeth's first Raclette experience!  En revanche, my family actually has le truc at home. (bah. i guess i should say "excuse my french," thought not in that sense.  after hanging out with native french speakers and speaking it for an extended period of time, I seriously can only think in the french phrases right now... thus the italics :).

note the european way of eating... two hands on the table with fork and knife, ALWAYS.

YUM.  cold cuts, boiled potoatoes, pickles... and of course, lots and lots of cheese.

this ham was literally called "the ham of Paris." it made us sad that we weren't there anymore.  but, then again, a raclette party wasn't a bad alternative!!

Paris, JE T'AIME.... (Paris, I love you!!)....

It's not often that I can sit and ponder life at 3 in them morning in a friend's flat in Paris.  But that is where I find myself.  This post will be short and sweet, because I'm about to take full advantage of her (acclaimed) comfy couch.  But first, a brief update on the past two days.... my life as "an american in paris!"

This week presented me with a long weekend, so earlier this semester I planned a trip to the city of light, Sarkozy's home sweet home, the center of French revolution and monarchy, the place "you just HAVE to go to."  Paris and I are quickly becoming best friends (as cliche as that sounds, because everyone loves Paris right?).  My friend Elisabeth and I stayed in a small but cozy black-and-white themed flat the first two nights here and have transitioned to a student friend's flat for these next two nights (thank you, Julie Anne!  soooo gracious).  Since arriving at the Gare de Lyon, our time has been non-stop sight-seeing, people-watching, city-slicking..... it's a dream, to say the least.

Take a moment tonight for example, when I was on the cusp of the Champs-Elysees near la Place de la Concord.... the temporary white and blue gleaming ferris wheel they put up just for the holidays was whirling around to my left, the Arc de Triomphe was looming in the distance, Le Louvre was shining in all it's glory, and the Eiffel Tower was in a frenzy of flashing colored lights as it began it's nightly light show.  I turned to Elisabeth and told her I was feeling a bit over-stimulated... as if I just wasn't given enough senses to take it all in!

Tomorrow I'll meet up with Jessie Elledge who arrives in this grand city at the ungracious hour of 8:30am.  We'll have a good 36 hours together (eeeeee excited!!) before I have to be torn away from Paris like a child torn away from a cookie jar.  There are just toooo many sweet tastes of life in Paris that I want to taste for myself. ; )

I'll definitely write more when I return to Grenoble (home sweet home) but I thought I'd take advantage of the opportunity to express my where-abouts and document, for memory's sake, just how much I am charmed by France's capital.

Bon nuit!

Ce que j'ai appris sur le Mexique.... (What I learned about Mexico....)

Last night, I had a friend up to Rabot.  Mariana is a friend from class, a quiet and sweet-spirited girl from Mexico; I am enjoying getting to know her a lot!  I met her at the bottom of the mountain so we could walk up; guests who come up to Rabot always get their daily exercise. ; D  We made dinner, had tea, and watched a movie (with spanish subtitles for her!  I learned a few words ;).

I find it amusing that though we live in neighboring countries, it is in France that I am learning so much about Mexico!  Cultural exchanges like this one are by far highlights of the semester. 

So.  Things I learned about Mexico....(more to come)....

** During New Year's, families might listen to the radio (as her's does) and at midnight, a bell rings ....for every time the bell rings, they pop a grape in their mouths.... 12 times to represent the 12 months!

** Mexican University students have to pass an english language test in order to take another language in college.... if they are not at a sufficient level in english, they have to learn english first.

** In southern Mexico (Mariana lives in Mexico City but studies in Puebla), they do not eat beans!  Contrary to what most Americans think of with all Mexican food!

** Mexican Universities are not all that small.... hers is 40,000 students (she thinks ; )!

** Americans do not know how to make quesadillas... especially Americans trying to make them with ingredients from a french grocery store.

Known

From the old Grenoble fortress perched on top of a large foothill, I saw the hazy visage of Mont Blanc for the first time today.  A french man actually pointed it out to me.....well, not to me.  It was the benefit of a new past-time I've acquired: eaves-dropping on the french.  ; )  Mont Blanc, at 4,807 meters, is the highest summit in Europe.  I don't know why, but as I stared at the white mass hundreds of miles to the east, I felt really privileged.

Today was a jour férié, or a national holiday, to celebrate Veteran's Day. Whereas many American schools would slap a one-liner memoir in the student newspaper and continue on with the week, France closed down.  This is another reason I like France.

God clearly wanted us all to enjoy the mid-week break, because this afternoon the long-lost sun decided to return, kissing the sparkling white mountain tops and warming up a recently cold and dreary Grenoble.  I couldn't help but put on my hiking shoes and set off for a walk!

I decided to venture a bit down the road toward a place where the trail heading up to the Bastille bleeds into the Geology school's parking lot.  The air was crisp and the sun at just the perfect angle to pierce through the wood and set ablaze the golden trees lining either side of the trail; I was drawn into the serenity in an instant.  I passed many other couples and families who were profiting from the weather and day off and couldn't help but keep going, all the way to the top (I am one who has to 'peak' once I start).  The last time I was at the top of the Bastille, it was an overcast late-summer day; how different it is when the mountains are white, the trees sloping below are dotted burgundy and gold, and the sunset is a watercolor painting in the sky!  The sun disappeared behind a mountain at about 4:30, but it's rays still stretched out wings from behind it, and from both sides, they warmed the complexion of  the surrounding landscape within reach.  It was amazing.

The chorus to this song played on repeat in my thoughts on the way up and down.  Maybe writing out the lyrics will get it out of my head....but then again, it's a melody I never want to stop singing.

Savior, you have known me as I am
Healer, you have known me as I was
As I will be
In the morning, in the evening
You have known me, God, You have known me
Completely
You have known me
(Known by Audrey Assad)

I guess it was just one of those afternoons when I took time to just...be.  It's something that I'm doing more often here.  I'm growing, and ever needing to grow further, in the art of doing nothing (not even thinking about anything in particular!).  God prompted me to go on a hike this afternoon, but it wasn't so I could accomplish anything at all; it was just so He could show me His glory and help me learn how to let myself enjoy being known by Him...and simply that alone.

not from today..... I'm thankful I didn't have my camera, actually.... gave me more time to experience it with two eyes. but, of course, any other day I take about 50 million pictures of the mountains.

La Vie Quotidienne... (Daily Life...)

Dusk falls like a curtain all around Grenoble.  The white billowing clouds have quickly swallowed the same-colored mountain peaks, those which surround the city tucked inside.  Today, my commute home was not much different than any other day, but for some reason my senses took in more than usual and set me in the mood to write.  So, here you have it—more an outlet for me than anything—2 hours in the life of Natalie Graf in France. ;D

Class finished today at 3:30, and afterwards, I board a tram and head toward the nearest grocery store with a simple list in my head: marshmallows and rice krispies.  A friend and I plan on making the famous American treat for our volleyball team tonight.  This grocery store is huge, and I lap the front aisles in search of marshmallows (Not knowing what the name is in French, I don’t bother asking… turns out it is “marshmallow” also, how original!).  I finally find some white and pink ones in the candy aisle.  Alright, that works.  Next, a 10-minute survey of the cereal aisle (people probably think I’m crazy for pacing it as I do) and all I come up with is a chocolate rice cereal that vaguely resembles what I’m looking for.  Good enough. ; )

It’s always insanely busy at the checkout at this time of day; surely I’d pick the aisle with the lady trying to buy the mysterious un-priced bag of onions!  Thankfully I am in good spirits so it doesn’t bother me when, after her delay, the cashiers want to switch out right before my turn.  I could have muttered il vaut pas la peine (which means ‘it’s not worth it’ and is my self-deemed “phrase of the week”), but instead I let my two items slide to the front and smile at the new cashier.  

I take a different route than usual home, thinking it will be faster. False.  But no big deal, because waiting for a connecting tram—again—gives me time to think.  When the A line finally comes, I grimace as the cars slow to a stop—I see that this one is packed.  I send up a quick prayer that more people will get off than get on, and it is only half answered.  Finding a small space suitable to stand inside, I look at someone no matter where I avert my eyes.  I feel like time is suspended as this tram car briefly unites people from all walks of life—a mother, wearing a burka, with a stroller beside her….. a teenager with his ipod, drowning out the world….a perplexed, tired looking middle-aged woman….. an older gentleman, seemingly a bit perturbed that I am crowding his space.  It’s a chance to step into their world for just a second, to bathe just one tram car in prayer, a prayer for hope and for true life found in the joy of the Lord. 

I get off one before my stop, hoping to catch the bus up to Rabot, and I watch it literally pull away and the driver shrug and give me a sympathetic smile. 

No sooner do I decide to walk toward home than a strong gust of wind blows the beginning of rain into my eyes.  I shiver inside my coat and walk more quickly. I often feel conspicuous on the streets of Grenoble; my always-rapid gait sticks out amongst the always meandering, never hurried French people.  I wish I could be like them: never be in a hurry.  But that’s for another day, I think, as the wind gusts grow stronger.  I clearly remember the first couple days in class, when my language professor told us that it was hardly ever windy in Grenoble.  Lies!  I smile.

I wait at the next bus stop until the bus comes around again.  This one is strangely empty, and as I head toward a free spot in the back, the jolt of the start sends me nearly flying to my seat.  And so it begins the zig-zagged route up.  This bus always feels like it’s about to implode, especially back here, where the buzz of the engine —no, the groan—can be felt directly beneath my feet.  This driver is good—he only has to back up around a turn once. 

We grind to a halt and I briskly head toward the five flights of stairs separating me from room 358.   Looking to my right, I catch a view of the city.  The journey is always worth it, that’s for sure.  No doubt the wind is stronger up here, but the sight of my window on the third floor consoles me.  I enter the building, pass by the front desk to see if my room number is highlighted…. nope, no mail today.  Up to the highest floor, down the pink hallway, two clock-wise turns with my key…and I am home. ; )

Quand on est à Rome... (When in Rome...)

When I came to France, my primary goal was not to travel as much as possible, strange as that may sound coming from a student abroad.  I truly wanted to relish the unique and precious occasion to BE a Grenoblois, as they’re called, to settle into a French-sort-of life in order to see what it’s all about.  That being said, I began this semester with only two goals relating to travel: to make it to Italy and to Paris.  Well, one down.

When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money.  Then take half the clothes and twice the money.         
–Susan Heller

Though I laughed when I read this piece of advice for the first time, I truly did have it in mind as I prepared for my university’s weeklong fall break.  With 7 full days on my hands, I decided to make a whirlwind tour of Italy and southern France: Grenoble—Venice—Florence—Rome—Cinque Terre—Nice—Aix-en-Provence—Grenoble.  It was GREAT.

Italy allowed me to carry back souvenirs that engage all senses (souvenirs means ‘memories’ in French… I think it’s a very fitting translation).  The trip was full of leisurely moments watching the world go by, and yet it moved at such a pace that I can only describe the mere aura of each city as I came to experience it.  Just as I was settling into one place (and finally figuring out how to navigate it with my consulted-so-much-it’s-falling-apart-after-one-day map), we were catching that truly magical vehicle that transforms your surroundings in but three hours: the train! 

Venice doesn’t fail in all it’s hyped up to be.  I’m already planning on a return trip with my significant someone someday, because you just can’t help but feel the romance lingering in the narrow streets and certainly on the Grand Canal!  When I first arrived, I was alone (Elisabeth was coming to meet me from Budapest) and to be honest, I was completely paralyzed by my fear of getting lost, at night, on my way to my hostel.  Venice is infamous for being dreadfully confusing to navigate, and after spending a day and a half there, it really is true: Venice is like a PEOPLE MAZE.  Dead-ends included. ; D  But the Lord magnificently guided my steps and I arrived just fine.  In Venice, Elisabeth and I took full advantage of our steeply priced Valparetto water taxi pass and traveled to four out of five islands surrounding the lagoon the next day.  We also enjoyed "family dinners" at our hostel every night!

I arrived in Florence with high expectations because of what other good friends had told me about it.  In this city, I saw a lot of art.  Old art. Renaissance art!  It was all really good (I certainly admitted many times that I could never even paint the SKY as well as they did) but needless to say, I’m not much of an art history buff.  Some sections took a little while for me to really “get into,” but it was culturally enriching to walk the halls of the Uffizi and the Academia, and to witness first-hand the splendor of Michelangelo's David.  Great little anecdote: in the Uffizi, the best-known museum in Florence, you could not bring water bottles inside, and unfortunately, I had my Nalgene with me (which never leaves my side if you know me well).  I suffered greatly from anticipated separation anxiety until I had a bright idea: I hid the Nalgene in a potted bush next to some bike racks in a courtyard nearby.  The highlight came later, when I went to retrieve it and two Italian men gave me the oddest and most amused looks as a water bottle magically appeared from underneath the bush.  :)

Florence was also where I enjoyed my best and most memorable dining experience, which included getting in without a reservation, sitting with strangers on either side of me, making very good friends with the Italian businessmen to my left (to the point where they were offering us bites of their steak and giving us their dessert), and being poured sparkling white wine after dinner for free, THREE TIMES (because the waiter said we weren’t drunk yet).

Switching scenes and time periods, we scampered off to Rome and saw the Colosseum first thing as the sun was setting: simply an experience like no other.  I kept thinking of the schoolbooks I had read about the Colosseum, and felt immensely privileged for the chance to see it in person!  Rome was definitely one of my favorite stops.  I enjoyed the large-city atmosphere and was constantly enamored by the juxtaposition I witnessed everywhere between Roman ruins and Roman metropolitan on the same street corner.  We saw a lot in Rome, walking the city five times over.  We ate a lot of pizza and even more gelato.  I experienced the Vatican’s immense St. Peter’s Cathedral (where this time, I left my Dad’s pocket knife outside the gates disguised in a cookie wrapper in a trash can--ha).  My varied thoughts on the biggest cathedral in the world and the center of the Roman Catholic Church will have to wait for another day….

Changing paces dramatically, Elisabeth and I caught a train at midnight, which left two sleepy-eyed and slightly disoriented college students in La Spezia’s train station at 4:14am.  After sleeping a bit in the train station and a 15-minute train trip to Riomaggiore, we found a scenic overlook and journaled until the sun came up over the Mediterranean.  Then, we began a 9k daylong hike through five small Italian villages directly on the coastline, known collectively as Cinque Terre.  One word: GORGEOUS.  It was exactly the kind of ending I wanted to have in Italy, and I embraced the cheerful-looking building facades, the fresh air aroma, the staggering views, and the gently hushing waterfront with much pleasure.  This was one stop I had greatly looked forward to, and as I swam in the Med at the end of the day and let the setting sun dry my face, well, I couldn’t think of anything much better.  As I wrote in my journal that morning:

The Mediterranean Sea rustles just beyond the edge of the stone pathway, and the sun’s purples and pinks and oranges are making their way around the cliff’s edge to my left.  It is early here--as still as if no one lived here.  I’m receiving a gift right now--  I’m glimpsing a period of the day most people aren’t around for, and I open it with wonder, with humility.  Oh God, You are Holy.  Who am I, and why, after all my unfaithfulness, all my self-centeredness, would you choose to bestow on me a moment like this?  You are wonderfully beautiful, more than any god or gold or grandeur.  God, You are incredibly Incomprehensible and yet you make yourself known to those who You have created… us with such finite understanding.  That doesn’t seem to matter to You.  You love to be known, however imperfectly, by your children.  Father, may my comprehension of you become sweeter every moment.  Make me holy in the knowledge of your holiness, and shed light and complete joy on this heart today.  Thank you.  Thank you.

Southern France the next day was toured rapidly as we snaked back into France, the homeland.  It felt really nice to be back in a country where you could understand and be understood!  A friend from Truman studying in Nice walked us through the city when we arrived late afternoon and we continued to enjoy the Mediterranean for as long as we could.  Aix-en-Provence was given all of five hours of our time, but we managed to find some treasures at one of their infamous markets and linger in the coolest cathedral ever, which mixed architectural styles ranging over 800 years.  Literally, there was a spot in the church where you advanced whole historical ages as your glance moved upwards.  Crazy cool.

Though the last train we took was dreadfully overbooked and I stood two hours in the middle aisle all the way, it was great arrive back at ‘home.’  I can't help but feel like Benjamin Disraeli when he says: Like all great travelers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.  It’s true, and I thank the Father for the incredible memories I hold with me now (not to mention, the pictures….it was hard to pick, but here are my favorites from each city....enjoy!).

~venice~

~florence~

~rome~

 

~cinque terre~