Hidden Treasures

There are many beautiful churches in Lyon, but one in particular caught my eye the other day...not because of its beauty, but because of its location. This nondescript church, situated in a predominately commercial district, was literally walled in by colorful stores on all four sides. Were it not for the height of the chapel, it would have been completely hidden.

This colorless holy place, surrounded by the temptations of boutiques and boulangeries, got me thinking about the juxtaposition of sacred and secular. The church in Lyon is not dead, as some would claim, but it is definitely cloaked beneath a veneer of predominantly postmodern and atheistic worldviews. Cathedrals are visited by thousands of people daily, although mostly as tourist attractions rather than places of worship.

One such attraction is the grand 19th century Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourviere, which proudly stands tall above the hillside above the Saone River. It can be reached by car or funicular, but there is another way...by foot. The church is accessible via an old staircase which lies almost hidden between two buildings. When my Dad and I tried to find the stairs, we walked right past them several times before finally noticing them.

At the top of these stairs, once we caught our breath, we were immediately captivated by the sight of a beautiful garden surrounding us. The basilica was still above us; the city spread out like a painting below us. The gardens in between were quiet and peaceful. We stood motionless and speechless, enjoying the surroundings, not feeling the need to break the silence with conversation. This is a holy place, I thought. I imagined generations of former pilgrims trekking up the hillside, resting in the shade of the garden trees, then pressing on to worship. 

After spending time in the gardens and even more time in the church, my Dad and I made our way back down to the Old City. There, we found even more hidden treasures. The city of Lyon is known for its traboules, or passageways. These traboules, which connect one building to another, were originally used by silk workers who used them to transport their delicate wares in all sorts of weather. It's rumored that some of the traboules were later used as hiding places during the revolutions and by the French resistance in World War II. Today, many traboules are used by apartment owners and shopkeepers, but are still accessible to the public. 

As we opened doors leading into the traboules, we felt like explorers entering a hidden world. We never knew what we would find...

....sometimes a beautiful courtyard...

...sometimes a scary, cobwebbed cellar...

...sometimes a winding staircase...

....always a hidden treasure, waiting to be discovered. 

As I think about these many different "hidden treasures" of Lyon, I always stop and pray that the greatest treasure of all, Jesus Christ, would be discovered by many seekers of truth and grace.

"The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field." - Matthew 13:44

Lindsey's tips on thriving in France

Those of you who know my daughter Lindsey won't be surprised to learn that she has a YouTube channel. She's very creative and loves to perform. I told her that if she did a video about France, I'd include it in my blog, so now I'm making good on my promise!

Click here to see her video on YouTube.

Lindsey has been posting videos on her YouTube channel, called "lyonaiselindsey", for a few weeks now. (Yes, "lyonaise" ususally has two "n's" but that name wasn't available). This whole YouTube phenomenon is so interesting. She follows several people that apparently somehow make a living by "vlogging"(posting video blogs). These people have loyal fans, they attend YouTube conferences, and they even get sponsors who send them off on exciting travel adventures. I think Lindsey would like to become one of these overnight sensations. I'm not so sure about that plan...but I've always encouraged her to live her dream! So do me a favor -- help her get a fan base. Watch her videos and give her a "thumbs up!" Who knows, maybe she'll become the next YouTube star. 

Here's another one to get you started....





You're never too young to have a "bucket list." In this video, Lindsey shares some of her dreams and goals. I love that she's interested in travel, and I hope we'll have the opportunity to see many European countries while we're living in France.

More "Stay-cation" photos of Lyon

We've toured our new city on foot for countless miles (or kilometers I should say). These photos and the memories they represent are worth the price of sore feet, and I've found that ending the day with a refreshing apéritif helps tremendously!

Earlier this week we visited the Parc de la Tête d'Or, a huge park situated about 2 km north from our apartment. It was a bank holiday, so the park was very crowded. But we managed to find a good picnic spot, then enjoyed the free zoo and botanical gardens. The name of the park means "Golden Head," and there's a legend that a buried treasure lies somewhere underneath the park, featuring a golden head of Christ. Indiana Jones needs to visit this place!

Our picnic spot gave us a great view of the lake. You can rent addle boats and canoes.

The park's free zoo draws large crowds.

Lindsey was dwarfed by these huge leaves inside the greenhouse!

Stunningly colorful flowers in the botanical gardens

The rivers of Lyon are overshadowed by two hills: the hill to the west of the Saône River features a 19th century basilica and is known as "the hill that prays." To the north is the former silk industry district known as the "hill that works." We started at the base of the "hill that prays" and explored the St. Jean-Baptiste Cathedral and the Fourvière Basilica. Then we hiked along some ancient Roman ruins, including remnants of an amphitheater dating back to 15 B.C.!

The Cathedral of Saint Jean-Baptiste. Started in the year 1180, it took 300 years to complete!

This arch on the grounds of the cathedral once belonged to a church dating back to the 1st century! 

The best way to the top of Fouviere hill is by "funiculare," a cable-car railway. 

The Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière, built in the late 1800s.

The inside of the Basilica is extremely ornate; almost tacky.

Greg took this panoramic shot of Lyon from the top of the hill.

The Roman amphitheater. The part you see with the people standing on the seats have been refurbished, but much of the original stone remains intact. It once held 11,000 people!

Ahhhh....refreshment after a long day of exploring our city.

Tourists in our own city

Our sweet daughter Lindsey arrived on Monday accompanied by my parents. We've had a great time playing "tourists" in our new city. Yesterday we explored for hours. It was a beautiful day!

Bienvenue!

Our youngest daughter, Lindsey, will arrive from the U.S. today! I am so eager to see her. Only 5 hours to go before we pick her and my parents up from the airport. Lindsey has been away at summer camp in Maine for the past 3 1/2 weeks. She missed all the thrill and excitement of our move to the apartment in France. Part of me is sad that she didn't experience our arrival, but the other part of me that knows her personality very well understands that this was the best possible scenario for her. Although she is adventurous in many ways, Lindsey is also very steady. She detests change. And moving to France involves HUGE changes. So, for Lindsey to miss the chaos and hassle of the actual move -- the cleaning, the unpacking, the painting, the IKEA construction, etc. etc. -- this was all for the best. Plus, from her letters and phone call, we know she had an amazing time at camp.

The first few days will be rough for Lindsey. She'll have jet lag to deal with, and she'll be "campsick." She'll be disoriented, and will have the same steep learning curve that we've faced for the past 3 1/2 weeks. But she will have her family by her side to guide her, including her sweet sister to lean on for support.

Counting down the hours.....

IKEA

Many of you have commented on my post about the 4x4 pallet that we shipped from the US to France. I'm looking forward to see it again, hopefully in late August. It will be like Christmas in summer to rediscover what I packed onto that pallet many weeks ago!

Honestly, I feel a little guilty writing that we were able to fit everything in such a small area. The reason our pallet was so tiny was that we didn't ship furniture. Most of our furniture was "vintage", and not in a good way! They were items we bought on the cheap when we first got married 20 years ago, and not much was worth shipping overseas. So, needless to say, we needed new furnishings when we arrived in Lyon. People from our church got us off to a great start, blessing us with donations: we have two mattresses on the floor (feels like camping!), a dining table, and we also have an offer of a couch on the way. It's working fine for now, but isn't the best long term situation.

To complete our furniture needs, yesterday we took a trip to IKEA. If you've never braved IKEA, you haven't really lived. It's a humongous furniture showcase and warehouse. You scurry around like rats through a maze who are hoping to find the cheese - or in this case the futon - at the end of the tunnel. IKEA items are functional, modern, and very reasonably priced. I've browsed at this store before in Charlotte, but I've never actually bought anything. It's a whole different ballgame when you know you have a single afternoon in this huge store, and you must find everything on your list or you'll have to carve out another day to do it all over again.

Greg, Lori, and I bravely entered the store, shopping list in hand, eager to conquer. We were lured in by the creative showcase rooms, which demonstrated how you could fully furnish and equip a 48 square meter apartment for under 3000 Euros. We quickly found a solution to our bathroom storage problem (right now we're getting by with three cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other as "shelves.") I was feeling pretty good. Then we hit the dining room section. So many choices for chairs! I think we sat in every single one. We finally decided on a model, wrote down the information, and headed to the next section. Hours went by. Kitchen....bedroom....home office. With each section, we grew more and more weary, more and more deflated. In some sections we were required to meet with a sales representative who printed out a list of the parts required for our order. You see, at IKEA, nothing comes assembled. That's why it's so cheap -- you pick out what you want at the showcase, then you go to the warehouse to find your items which are packed flat in cardboard boxes, then you check out, then -- oh joy -- you get to go home and put it all together.

I'll spare you the gory details, but by the time we checked out, we had three carts full of flat cardboard boxes. Two strong delivery guys just brought it all upstairs, and now the fun begins. Greg and I will spend the weekend on the floor with our cartoon-picture instruction manuals and start to piece everything together.

I'm starting to wish I'd shipped a bigger pallet!

Stuck

It's amazing the number of strange things that have happened to us in Lyon that have never happened to people who have lived here their entire lives. On our first visit to Lyon in December 2011, we got stuck  between floors on an elevator for about half an hour. Bad enough, yes, but we also happened to be stuck with two very grumpy French people who obviously thought it was Greg's fault that the elevator decided to call it quits. The very next day, our city bus crashed into a bus stop shelter, smashing glass all over the sidewalk. Thankfully nobody had been inside the shelter, or they would have probably been killed. Frankly, after that trip, it's pretty incredible that we pursued a permanent move to Lyon!

Yesterday we attended an Anglican worship service in a part of the city we're unfamiliar with. On the way home, our metro car suddenly came to a screeching halt in a dark tunnel between stations. We smelled rubber burning from the brakes. The lights flickered, then went out completely for several seconds. Lori was not a happy camper. An announcement came over the PA system, and we could make out a few phrases like "système électrique" and "merci pour votre patience." About 20 or so minutes went by as workers tried to reboot the system to no avail. Then we heard another announcement including the word "sortie" which I knew meant "exit." Sure enough, people started lining up at the doors. We actually had to jump out of the metro car onto a narrow ledge that served as a  makeshift walkway and walk back through the dark tunnel to the nearest stop. It was a great adventure!

This afternoon a friend and I met for coffee at (I'm embarrassed to say) Starbucks, and then we walked back to my apartment so I could show her our new home. We entered my apartment building and started to go up the stone staircase which led to my floor. We do have a teeny tiny elevator in the building, but we're only two flights up, so I rarely use it. As we rounded the first turn in the staircase, we heard a loud banging sound from below. I thought it was coming from the ground floor apartment, so I paid little attention. Then we heard what sounded like an alarm. I thought, "is there a fire?" My friend and I looked at each other quizzically, and headed back down the stairs to investigate. We heard the loud banging again, and then a muffled voice. It was coming from the elevator. Instant flashbacks to that first trip to Lyon. Thankfully, the elevator was not stuck between floors, but was just simply sitting on the ground floor, refusing to open its door for the poor lady stuck inside. My friend and I managed to open the outer door and, using all our strength, we pried open the inner doors, releasing the captive woman. She merci beaucoup'ed us over and over again. I managed to introduce myself and told her that I was her new neighbor (although I think I actually said "they is my new neighbor"). But Madame was very forgiving of my broken French and was all smiles, mainly because I had just rescued her from a tiny little box. She said that I was welcome to come over and visit any time.

Being stuck is never fun. But sometimes it leads to opportunities you never would have experienced otherwise. At the very least, it gives you a great opportunity to pray. And sometimes it might even lead to a new friendship.

Baby steps

One of my favorite comedies is the 1991 movie called "What About Bob." Bill Murray starred as Bob, a psych patient suffering from crippling panic attacks. His psychiatrist, played by Richard Dreyfuss, helped him cope with everyday life by challenging him to break down mundane tasks into "baby steps." Bob's anxiety was so severe that he had to break even the simplest routines into these tiny steps: "Baby step down the hall....baby step turn the doorknob....baby step walk out the door....baby step onto the sidewalk."

In France, I feel a lot like Bob. As a foreign newcomer, I'm in that awkward stage of having to learn where things are and how things operate, all in another language! Plus, France is famous for having a lot of bureaucratic red tape, even for natives. It's inevitable that the one piece of paper we don't have with us is the very one that's needed. This has happened with setting up banking, insurance, and utilities. Every time it's been a different document, but in all three cases it's meant that we have had to make multiple trips for the same task. Baby steps indeed!

Three pieces of advice I've received have helped me be patient in learning the "baby steps." First, someone wisely told me that if I could accomplish ONE task a day in the first few weeks, that equals success! So on many days I actually feel like an overachiever! The second nugget of wisdom came from some cross-cultural training we received a few months ago: Just because something is different doesn't make it "right" or "wrong." It's just different. That has become my mantra whenever I get frustrated. The last pearl came from my friend Terri. She likes to quote, "If it's not a good time, at least it makes a good story." In other words, we can look back on the little mistakes and inconveniences and laugh about them. Like Greg pantomiming to the garage attendant, desperately trying to communicate that he'd already moved our car before turning in the ticket. Or me almost getting plowed by a motorcycle looking the wrong way down a one-way street. Or the time when one of us (I won't name names) mixed up the words for "now" and "the same thing" when ordering (basically, he thought he was saying to the waiter "I want the same thing as she ordered" but he really said "I want it NOW!")

I'm sure I'll have lots of other funny stories to share in the weeks to come. But now it's time to baby step out the door to buy some groceries.