Letting Go of the American Dream

Yesterday we staged the boxes that will be shipped to Lyon. We had a goal of getting everything on one pallet. I measured and marked off a 4x4 space with masking tape, and Greg piled boxes on top of one another inside the space, making sure to stay under the four-foot height limit. Fortunately, we were able to fit everything in, with a few inches to spare.  It's really odd to see all of our worldly possessions crammed into such a small space. The other day it really hit me how much our ties to the American Dream have unraveled. We no longer own a house. We no longer own a car. We have a bit of savings, but not enough to withstand a long crisis. When I added up everything for the shipping company's inventory list, the replacement value of our possessions came out to just a couple of thousand dollars.

In a way, it's scary to see how low our net worth is. But on the other hand, it's amazing to think about the freedom this provides us. We could conceivably pick up and go anywhere on a moment's notice. Honestly, just a few suitcases would suffice: 95% of the items on the shipping pallet are wants, not needs, and could easily be replaced (although I do have a few priceless mementos that would be sorely missed).

We didn't get to this point overnight, though. It's taken two years of whittling our possessions away, little by little. First, we went from two cars down to one. Then came the Big Purge. We sold our house last June, and the three weeks between the contract and the closing was a nonstop flurry of garage sales, Craig's list sales, and donations to charity. We rid ourselves of furniture, appliances, clothes, toys, lawn equipment...you name it. Despite our best efforts to weed out the majority of our things, we still drove a small U-Haul to our furnished rental house. We lived there for about a year, and during that time we acquired a few more things. So this weekend we had Big Purge 2: the Sequel. Like most sequels, there's not much new to the story: another yard sale, and more things to haul to Goodwill. But now, hallelujah, everything else will fit on a 4x4x4 pallet and a few suitcases.

As long as it's taken to get rid of our physical possessions, it's also taken at least that long mentally to come to grips with letting go of the safety net of material things in order to follow God's call on our lives. Things often do really do get in the way of following God. So does money. Jesus said that it's so difficult for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God that it's more likely that a camel could fit through the eye of a needle. But that doesn't mean it's impossible. Anything is possible with God. Jesus gives us the answer in his famous sermon on the mount. Don't store your treasure on earth, where moths and rust can destroy, or where thieves can break in and steal. Instead, store your treasure in Heaven. Seek first the Kingdom of God, and he will meet your true needs as well. I guess for us, the biggest lesson in all this was realizing what our true needs are. We need shelter. We need food. We need clothing. We'll have all those things in France, or wherever else God chooses to send us. What a blessing that he gives us even more! 

Big rocks

I used to be so well-balanced: I had a fairly consistent time of prayer and Bible study in the morning, I exercised regularly, I prepared most meals at home, and I worked on my French each day. These last few weeks, however, have had me running all over town for those final meetings with college and financial planners, doctor appointments, visits with friends, and taking the girls to visit with their friends. I feel really badly for the family who loaned us their car for our remaining time in the States. They are in for quite a shock when they see the odometer! (I'll have to get them a nice thank you gift to compensate -- which involves yet another errand to run). The few hours when I am home are spent packing, preparing for garage sales and giveaways, and helping my daughter with her summer school math homework and SAT prep. In a nutshell, things are far from normal!

I've noticed that being out of my routine has made me very grumpy. I'm more irritable with my poor husband, who also has a lot of extra activities on his plate. I'm more apt to snap at the girls than sit down with them and talk things over. Obviously, something has to change. I know that I have to intentionally build in some margin, and use that precious time to recharge, or I'm going to burn out. Thinking about this reminds me of a very common illustration that was popularized by Steven Covey (I believe it was in his book First Things First). The story involved someone trying to get rocks of various sizes into a glass jar. When the small rocks were put in first, it was impossible to get the big rocks in later. However, putting in the big rocks first enabled small rocks to fill in the cracks. It was even possible to completely fill up the entire jar with tiny pieces of gravel and sand.

I thought about what would be considered my "big rocks." Is packing a big rock? No, but right now, packing is an urgent task. It must get done. But it also WILL get done! Seriously, I don't think we're going to leave the country without accomplishing this activity. Is quiet time alone with God a big rock? YES! I need to meet with Him every day. For me, uninterrupted morning time in prayer and study is like hitting a "spiritual reset" button. I'm at my best when I'm sitting at His feet, listening to His Word, with a heart that's ready to obey.

Another big rock for me is exercise. It helps me relieve stress. Today I felt myself getting really wound up inside. I almost hyperventilated just thinking about all the things I needed to accomplish. My wise husband encouraged me to take an hour in the middle of the day to get some exercise. So even though the "to do" list wasn't finished, I did as he suggested and worked out with my DVD buddy, Tony Horton (P90X!) Afterwards, although I was dripping with sweat, I felt ten times better. My anxiety was gone.

What are your "big rocks?" Post a comment and let me know. In the meantime, I've got to run and tackle another big rock -- dinner. (Does frozen lasagna count as a homemade meal?)

Stuff, stuff....and still more stuff

I feel time speeding up. The countdown is on: only 23 days left in the U.S. Our rental house looks like a bomb went off. Stacks of "stuff" line the hallways, and you can't even see the countertops because they are covered with miscellaneous papers, articles of clothing, dirty dishes, and other odds and ends. Today I've set aside an entire day to work on organizing the piles and finalizing what will be included in our 4x4x4 shipping pallet. Before I get to work, here are some of the exciting, and not so exciting, activities that have made up the last 3 or 4 days:

This weekend we had a ton of opportunities to see friends and supporters. We had a farewell pool party on Friday night, which was a lot of fun and not too sad, because many of the partygoers were friends we'll run into again before leaving for good. Also this weekend we were formally commissioned by our church not once, not twice, but four times!

The girls and I attended a yearbook signing party for our homeschool group. Lori and Lindsey have attended Classical Conversations for seven years, and this small band of homeschoolers has become like extended family to us. We've gone through good times and bad together, sharing a few tears but also much laughter. Once again, this event was another bittersweet time of saying goodbye not just for the summer, but for years to come.

Yesterday we spent pretty much all day selling our car. First we picked up a loaner car from a friend, then Greg and I had to go to the DMV to get a title released (the one in our possession had errors). While there, wouldn't you know it, their computer locked up twice, so we ended up waiting an hour and a half for what normally would have taken 5 minutes. I should have seen this as a perfect opportunity to practice patience for dealing with French bureaucracy in the future, but instead I just fumed, sighed, and tapped my foot loudly. Not a great witness.

Many of you have asked -- we are still waiting on word about the apartment we've selected. Today we got word that the dossier has been accepted by the agent, but they are waiting on the owner for the final word. We continue to pray that if this is the right apartment for us, we will have favor with the owner and hear something soon. In the meantime, I'll continue to pack those boxes and storage tubs, even if we don't have an address to send them to!

Peter Pan and Lullabies

This week we traveled to Wilmington, NC to visit my brother Brad, his wife Andrea, and their two kids, Alex and Annie. This was the first of many "final" goodbyes we'll face over the next three weeks. There is something about knowing it's the last time you'll see someone for several years that makes the visit bittersweet, emotional, and intentional. Each moment with them seemed sharper; each conversation, more purposeful; each setting, more colorful.

It drizzled lightly on our first day in Wilmington. It's a beach town, so of course our girls were eager to experience the North Carolina coast one last time before heading overseas. Due to the cool, misty weather, the cousins instead spent time indoors playing, while my sister-in-law and I enjoyed unhurried time in conversation. During a break in the weather, we headed to the cheesy boardwalk area and played old carnival games, earning tickets to be exchanged for cheap plastic trinkets. We bought ice cream (a "must" at the beach, regardless of the weather), and took a leisurely stroll on the sandy boardwalk. That evening my brother grilled steaks. We sat around the table for hours, sharing stories from our childhood, and remembering family gatherings from the past. Time slowed down as the memories poured forth. It felt very "French."

The next morning, the sun broke through the clouds and we all headed to the beach after all. I took it all in - the roar of the surf, the warmth of the sun on my skin, the feel of gritty sand and cool waves between my toes. The shrieks of laughter from the kids as they body-surfed. My niece's intense concentration as she built sand castles. I wanted it all etched deeply into my memory.

Back at the house, I sat on the floor of my seven-year-old nephew's room as we listened to his collection of CD's. Alex showed me a CD of lullabies that had helped him get to sleep when he was a toddler. We listened to it, and he said the music made him sad. I asked why. He said, "Well, I'll never be a baby again for the rest of my life." I looked at him and smiled sadly -- I understood. His eyes were shining. He said, "I'm not crying. I just have a little water in my eyes."

I call it the "Peter Pan" syndrome. Deep down, we want life to stay the same. We don't really want to grow up. An exciting adventure in Lyon awaits, yet part of me wants to curl up in bed and stay right where things are safe, cozy, and familiar. Life does move forward, though, with new challenges and obstacles, and that is good! It would be a terrible waste to forego adventure for safety, to just let things stagnate. So, I choose to seek out what's next with my head held high, my hands on my hips, and a smile on my face, just like Peter Pan as he faced Captain Hook. I can still look back on those fond memories of great times with friends and family. They will always, always be with me. All I have to do is fly back to the nursery window, peek my head in, and listen to the music. Alex, will you join me?

The taxi ride

Last April in Lyon we shared a taxi with one of our French-speaking colleagues. During the 30 minute drive to the airport, he and the taxi driver enjoyed an animated conversation. I was happy that I could pick out bits and pieces of what they were saying, even though the dialogue was very fast. However, one phrase that my friend used several times was unfamiliar to me. I asked him about it when we arrived at the airport: "Mike, what does 'toot-ah-fay' mean?" He wrote it out for me: Tout à fait. He explained that it was one of those idiomatic phrases that's hard to translate directly. It meant something like: "that's right" or, "exactly." If you look at the words literally, tout means all, à is a preposition that has several meanings like at, to, or by, and fait can mean fact. But putting them together gives the connotation that all the facts are in agreement -- in other words, "exactly!"

This is an example of why learning a new language both fascinates me, and challenges me at the same time. Words are not static. They can change meanings depending on the situation, the culture, and the audience. Old words become outdated, and new words take their place. Words and phrases have connotations and hidden meanings that are constantly in flux. An example is the word "garçon." It used to be perfectly acceptable to call a waiter "garçon," which means "boy." But now if you were to use that word in a restaurant to summon the server, it would be very offensive!

In January, my family and I attended a two week language acquisition course as part of our training for ReachGlobal. This school didn't teach us a word of French; rather it taught us how to effectively learn any language. One thing I took away from that course was that language learning is about much more than just words and translations. Language, they said, cannot be separated from culture. To learn a language well, you also understand the context and worldviews in which it is spoken.

The main purpose of  language, of course, is to communicate well. I've found that approaching language acquisition with humility and with the heart of a learner speaks volumes to the native people of a country. Trying to understand the local colloquialisms and idioms tells the people that you really want to understand them -- to move into their world. My greatest desire in learning French is so that I can become more personally and intimately connected with the people, the place, and the culture of Lyon -- so that I can understand, appreciate, and love it well. Tout à fait!

Faux pas linguistiques

When I tell people I'm moving to France, the first question I usually get is, "Do you speak French?" I typically reply, "J'apprends le français" which means, "I am learning French." I have really struggled with learning the language but at the same time I find it fascinating, and even enjoyable. I'm using lots of different methods to study, and in a future post I'll review some of the tools and techniques that I've found to be most helpful.

Right before our first trip to Lyon, I checked out a Pimsleur "Learn French" CD from the library. At that time I knew absolutely NO French. I mean, zero! I think I probably knew how to ask "Parlez-vous français?" but I'd be at a loss if someone actually answered the question affirmatively! So, every night for the two weeks leading up to the trip, my husband and I listened to a lesson. As we tried to imitate the strange sounds coming from the CD, we laughed at each other (and ourselves) and shook our heads in dismay. I remember thinking, "I will NEVER get this language!" It was daunting, to say the least. However, some of it actually stuck. This particular CD was perfect for amateurs heading to France. It specialized in simple, realistic conversations that one might encounter in a French-speaking country, such as basic greetings, asking for directions, and ordering in a restaurant. I memorized some basic survival phrases for the trip, but I don't think I said much other than the obligatory "bonjour's" and "au revoir's."

Our second trip came just a few months later, this time with our entire family in tow. I had listened to several more CDs, having added Speak French with Michel Thomas to the mix. I carried a small notepad with an expanded list of survival phrases, and this time I felt slightly more self-assured. But my bubble burst quickly after making two significant (and funny) gaffes! The first one happened when we were dining with some English-speaking friends in their home. This family had been in France for more than 10 years, and were fluent French speakers. After dinner, a French neighbor of theirs rang the doorbell to ask to borrow something. We were introduced, and he of course asked me in French if I spoke the language. I was so excited that I understood him! I confidently answered a phrase I had practiced many times: "Je comprends un peu le français, mais je ne parle pas très bien." (I understand a little French, but I don't speak it very well). At least, that's what I intended to say! The man and my host both looked at me quizzically. The French man even looked a little mad! Embarrased, I told my host what I'd intended to say in English. She laughed and explained my error: because I'd been trying to show off, I ran the words together, trying to speak more quickly and sound more capable than I really was. So my "je ne parle pas" came out sounding like "je n'aime parler pas"-- in other words, "I don't like to speak French!" That night, I learned the importance of enunciating clearly! As a novice, I'm not expected to speak quickly, but I do need to practice correct pronunciation. Just a slight difference can prove to be significant!

The second mistake happened during a side trip to Paris. We were eating in a restaurant, and much to my kids' dismay, I tried to converse with the waiter in French, even though he was perfectly happy to speak with us in English. I carried a phrase book for travelers in my purse, and between courses I would flip through the book and look for something new to say. As we were finishing up our meal, the waiter came by and asked how we were enjoying our dinner. I sighed with satisfaction and said, "Le repas est très bon!" The waiter gave me a sideways shrug and raised his eyebrows in that quintessentially French expression of annoyance. "What did I say?" I asked. He said, "You said that it wasn't good." The kids tried to duck under the table. I wanted to disappear as well! Later I realized that I had stressed the "pas" part of "repas" (meal). "Pas" means "not." So my waiter heard "not" loud and clear, instead of the intended "REpas." Since then, I've switched to phrase that's less likely to cause confusion: "C'est délicieux!"

I know I will continue to make many, many "faux pas linguistiques." But although the errors are embarrassing at the time, they are an absolutely necessary part of language learning. If you don't make mistakes, you just aren't trying! One language advisor told me recently, "You will make one million mistakes when you learn a new language. So you better get started soon."

The List

Yesterday as I was packing for the move I came across a list of "pros and cons" that my husband and I made on the return flight from our first trip to France. Way back in December of 2010, we were invited by ReachGlobal to explore an opportunity to provide leadership to the International Christian Community of Lyon. We departed for this trip with very little information about the role, the city, and the church community. But we went nevertheless with open minds, wondering if this might be what God had in store for our future.

The vision trip went extremely well! After 10 glorious days in Lyon, we boarded the plane bound for home with excitement, willing to keep the door open for more prayer and exploration. At the same time, we were a bit terrified. What would such a drastic lifestyle change mean for our family? These mixed emotions led to the creation of The List.

Making a pro/con list might not seem like a "spiritual" thing to do. I mean, if God asks you to follow Him, you go, right? That's obedience! But often it's not initially clear whether or not God is driving the decision. In those cases, I've found that making a pro/con list can be an excellent tool to use to weigh a major decision. You see, God does give us minds and expects us to use them! We pray for His wisdom, but we also pray for our own discernment as we make decisions. Most choices we face are not spelled out in scripture as having One Right Answer. (Of course, if a decision is sinful, causing us to disobey God's specific commandments, the answer is always NO!)


Here are several ways that our list proved helpful to us:

• Transparency. Since my husband and I both contributed to the list, we were able to communicate openly with each other about our true feelings, both positive and negative.

• Objectivity. Creating the list caused us to step back from the emotional high of the trip and jot down facts.

• Fears were exposed. As I read back over the list of cons, I quickly realized that most of the negatives involved "what ifs." What if we uprooted everything and then hated it? What if it wasn't safe for our daughters? What if we got hurt or depressed? What if we failed? Our con list revealed a lack of trust in God to meet our needs. Seeing our fears spelled out in black and white reminded us of the importance of stepping out in faith, knowing that God is trustworthy.

• Eternal perspective. Our pro list was full of things that really matter in the long run. We'd be using our God-given gifts and talents. We would have the opportunity to meet people from around the world and share the love of Christ with them. Being part of an international church would give us a small taste of how heaven is portrayed in Revelations 7: people from every tongue, tribe, and nation worshiping God together.

• Prayer guide. Our list became a reminder of specific things to pray about as we went before the Lord to seek His guidance in this decision.

• Praise report. Now that I've rediscovered the list, it's been so much fun to look back and see what God has done since we made the list. He's taken care of many of the fears and challenges from our con list, and He's expanded the pro list beyond what we could have initially imagined. 

The last line on the pro side of our list reads: "We'll be 50 someday!" That line came from a challenge that a pastor made to my husband years ago, when he first felt the call to quit his sales career and go into ministry full time. That pastor looked my husband in the eye and soberly said, "Greg, you'll be 50 someday. Do you want to look back on your life at age 50 and regret not doing what God has called you to do?" That question puts everything into perspective.

30 reasons to move to France

Not much time to blog today. Instead, I'll share a fun link that highlights some of the things that make France great. When things get tough and we wonder why we're doing this, I'll revisit this list again and remember....oh yeah, that's why!

Click here to read more....enjoy!

House Hunting Internationally

Life goes on. Even as we continue to grieve the tragic death of my daughter's friend, we must continue to press forward with plans for our move. I wish we could stop time and delay the tasks at hand, but with just over a month remaining until our departure date, it just isn't possible.

This week's moving tasks have alternated between packing and apartment hunting. Since packing is really boring and tedious, I won't blog about that (at least not today). However, the apartment search has been really interesting. At times, my husband and I feel like we're on HGTV's "House Hunters International." Like the couples on the TV show, we really do take walks holding hands and saying, "What did you like about the first apartment?" or "Well, we should probably eliminate one." The only difference is we are having to do the apartment search virtually.

Thankfully, we have several sets of friends that are already firmly established in Lyon and seem willing to play House Hunters International along with us. We send web links of apartments we've found online, and they give us their feedback: "No, that one is in a sketchy part of town," or "Did you realize that it's on the 6th floor with no elevator?" The few that have passed their initial elimination tests have gone on to the "visitation" round. Our friends go in person to check it out, take measurements of the rooms, and snap pictures. Right now we have three contenders. One is in a district fairly far from the heart of the city, but is within walking distance of the girls' school. The other two are in a classy central district; one is just steps from a metro station and the other is near a nice shopping area.

Our favorite, the "metro" apartment, is in an old traditional building on the 1st floor (which is actually the 2nd floor in America, not the ground floor). I learned from one of our friends that the official first floor in these old buildings was the floor of nobility. In this building, there's actually a "half-floor" with very low ceilings between the ground floor and the 1st floor called the "entresol." It was lived in by household staff or just common people. So we would actually be living in "nobility" quarters! (That's unbelievable on our limited budget.) This apartment has two large bedrooms on opposite corners, a roomy kitchen, and a very spacious "salle de séjour," or living room. The kitchen has a mini-alcove with a separate door entrance that was used by the cook as her "bedroom." It is the size of a small closet  - just big enough for a cot! Incredible, and fascinating. Below the apartment is a "cave" which is actually not too different from what it sounds like. It has a dirt floor and can be used for storage, as long as everything was tightly wrapped in plastic. But it would make an excellent wine cellar!

 A picture from the inside looking down into the common courtyard. I'm not including any interior photos because there is someone still living in the apartment, and I don't want to violate her privacy.

 Another picture from the tiny balcony looking down onto the street below.

The "cave"

We're frantically working on getting our dossier put together for this apartment. It's tricky on many counts because we're Americans entering the country on a long-stay visa. We have to get a French national to act as our "garant;" basically a co-signer. Many owners prefer not to rent to foreigners, so they could always turn us away even if we are the first to submit our dossier. But we will just pray, and if this isn't the right solution for us, I'm sure one of the other two will work out -- or even something else that we might stumble across in the meantime!

Hard lessons

One of my daughter's friends died this weekend. He was only 11 years old. It was such a tragedy, and we are in the throes of grief. We pray for this precious family that will have to bury their son, and we pray for his young friends that have to experience tangible loss at such a tender age.  Lord, only You can provide comfort.

My husband and I have hugged our kids more tightly this weekend. We've overlooked the little things that used to irritate us such as forgetting to put the cap on the toothpaste. We've spent time listening to our kids, taking walks with them, playing board games, and just being with them. We've prayed together, cried together, and, even in the midst of the grief, we've laughed together. Even though the house still need to be packed up, and our moving "to do" list is huge, we are putting this aside for the time being. Our priorities have suddenly and irrevocably shifted. A Bible verse that I've known for ages  has spoken to me in a new way:

We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. 
2 Corinthians 4:18

Lord, help this lesson stick! I want to care more about the cleanliness of my daughters' souls than the cleanliness of their rooms. I want to give more hugs than reprimands. I want to take time to really listen to them when they come to me, rather than keep half my brain focused on the tasks I need to accomplish that day. Life is so precious, and can't be taken for granted. Lord, help me remember to always say "I love you" before they walk out the door.

Grief

There's a grief that can't be spoken....there's a pain that goes on and on.  (Marius from Les Miserables)

Oh my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I have no rest. Yet you are holy.
Psalm 22:2-3

The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18

As for man, his days are like grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourishes. When the wind has passed over it, it is no more, and its place acknowledges it no longer. But the lovingkindness of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him.
Psalm 103:15-17

The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away. Blessed be the name of the LORD.
Job 1:21

You will not grieve as do the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus...Therefore comfort one another with these words.
1 Thessalonians 4:13, 14, 18

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away. And He who sits on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new."
Revelation 21:4-5

Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?
John 11:25-26

Jesus wept.
John 11:35


We will miss you, Jeffrey. Yet we rejoice that you are safe in the arms of Jesus.
Rest in Peace - 
Jeffrey W. (2001-2013)

Looking back

We've been preparing for this move for about two years now. In June 2011, my husband Greg was invited to join ReachGlobal in their efforts to multiply churches globally. For us, that meant moving to France to collaborate with the International Christian Community of Lyon. Since long-stay visas in France prohibit working, we had to raise full financial support from churches and individuals in the U.S. This took a lot longer than we had anticipated! But God has done some amazing things during these two years. The saying "God is never early, but He is always on time" rang true for our family.

Here are just a few of the milestones, and the lessons I've learned during the waiting period:

• A place to call home: We sold our house last July after only 9 days on the market. The buyers were friends of mine from the homeschooling community who stopped by one day after seeing it online, and made an offer almost immediately. I was thrilled, but then my joy quickly turned to worry. Where would we live in the meantime? Then God blessed us even further by providing a "temporary" home. What was meant to be just 2 or 3 months turned into a long-term arrangement. I can't believe that we are still in that same "temporary" home, and we'll move from here to Lyon in mid-July 2013, exactly one year after we sold our house. Lesson learned: God meets our needs! Do not worry then, saying, "What will we eat? or "What will we drink?" or "What will we wear for clothing?" For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your Heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. - Matthew 6:31-32

• The power of friends: The long process of raising support forced us to travel across the country. This opportunity to reconnect with family and friends blessed me tremendously! One ministry training event took us to Colorado Springs, the home of not just one, but two friends who had previously relocated to that city. Other trips took us back to our Texas roots, where I was able to spend time with friends and family we'd left behind nine years ago when we moved to the east coast. At training events in Minnesota and Colorado, my daughters made instant friends with young people who are now living abroad in places like Taiwan and the U.K. (Side note: the girls were NOT excited about attending the training events, but they quickly realized how fun they could be when they kept an open mind.) Now that our U.S. travel has thinned out, I'm in the process of saying goodbyes to local friends and family. These friends have been vital to my emotional health. Friends have stood by me, prayed for me, laughed and cried with me, and have helped me in countless ways.  Lesson learned: Friendships are important! Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

• It's just stuff: When we sold our house, we got rid of about 90% of everything we owned. I'm not usually a material person, but it was really interesting to notice that certain things were painful to give away. Books I'd read to the girls when they were young were especially difficult to part with (I kept many of our favorites). Furniture was no problem to get rid of, though! Our furniture for the most part was very old and outdated, and I didn't seem to have any emotional ties to my nightstand or dining room table. In fact, we kept only four pieces of furniture, none of which we will take to Lyon: a grandfather clock handed down to my husband, a beautiful antique hutch, a Hoosier cabinet, and my old dresser drawers that I'd had when I was a child, that had been repainted for my daughter by an artistic friend. These will remain in my parents' home and be waiting for us whenever we move back to the U.S. Someone asked me recently if I missed anything that I'd sold or given away. I thought hard about it, and was happy to realize that I had no regrets! It's really nice to be traveling lighter. The only thing that has happened that was really painful didn't involve tangible things. We had a computer crash, and to our horror the backup device that we'd been faithfully using didn't save any of our data. Most of it could be re-created, but many years of pictures and videos were lost forever. Lesson learned: Memories are to be treasured over things. Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in Heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:19-21

Introduction

This summer, our family of four will be moving from small town America to Lyon, France. Our lifestyle will change in just about every way. We'll go from a quiet house in the suburbs to a tiny apartment in the heart of the city. Instead of driving 30 minutes to do our shopping, we'll hop on a bus or metro, or just walk to the nearest boulangerie. We'll trade Wal-Mart for the fresh farmer's market.

School will be a big change, too. Our two girls have been homeschooled, and we have supplemented their education with a classical program that meets one day a week outside of the home. Their class size with that program is about 8-12 students per grade. When we move to Lyon, they will go to a very large French public school (about 2000 students) that has an Anglophone department.

In Lyon, my husband and I will be involved in ministry with an International Christian faith community. Right now it's a small group of English-speaking ex-pats, students, and missionaries. We love this group of people; we've met many of them during our past visits to Lyon and can't wait to be with them full time.

We are really excited about this move, and yet we're also nervous, sad, scared, and exhausted. In this blog I hope to share some of the joys and struggles that we encounter on this journey of faith. I invite you to join me as I describe our family life, our ministry, and the beautiful city of Lyon.