Summer Rhythms

It's summertime in France: the season when the pace of life slows to a crawl. Last year at this time we were in process of moving into our apartment, and all the busy tasks that go with moving prevented me from experiencing the summer down-time. But this summer, I'm getting the chance to fully appreciate the change of rhythm from frenzied to carefree.

Each morning, I wake whenever the sun beckons me to get up. No alarm clock necessary. I open all the windows wide to catch the pleasant cross-breeze, and sit out on our tiny balcony with a steaming oversized mug of coffee. From there, I watch the street below slowly come to life. Ladies unhurriedly walk their dogs. Children happily roll down the sidewalk on their scooters and bikes. The cafe manager across the street opens his shutters and puts out a few tables and chairs. Now that it's summertime, just a few cars trickle down the usually busy boulevard.

August -- vacation month -- is just around the corner, and I noticed today that several stores had already put up their "fermeture annuelle" notices. Soon, most of the shops that line our street will roll down their metal exterior shutters and roll up their awnings. The A7 to southern France will become a virtual parking lot as vacationers flee the city for the sunny shores of the Mediterranean. Meanwhile, here in Lyon we'll have an abundance of parking spaces to choose from.

Whether you are stay-cationing (like us) or going away this year, bonnes vacances à tout le monde!

Travel Post #5: Tuscany (Guest post from Lori)

"The world is a book and those who do not travel only read one page."
-St. Augustine

A few weeks ago, I was granted with the incredible opportunity to be able to travel to Italy with my friend, Victoria and her mother. They have a beautiful house that used to be a monastery in a tiny village 20 minutes outside of the town of Villa Franca, in the district of Tuscany. It was completely secluded, on top of a mountain, overlooking a valley and other numerous mountains surrounding it.

We took advantage of having a car and a GPS and made several day trips. The first was to Pisa to see the famous leaning tower. It was very amazing to see in person and really does mess with your head a bit, because it is something that should be straight, but isn't.

Just a couple of days after Pisa, we went to one of the Cinque Terre. It was absolutely beautiful and looked like a painting. There were sandy beaches, cliffs, sailboats, and some of the bluest water I've ever seen.

The last place we visited, the day before he headed back home, was another tiny town named Bagnone that was absolutely charming. It looked like it was right out of a fairytale. They also made the best cappuccino I have ever had in my life. And again, some of the bluest, clearest water I've ever seen.

Even heading home was an incredible site. We drove through the Alps and one of the longest tunnels in the alps (16 Kilometers) We got incredible views. It was cloudy and rainy and seeing the fog obscure the mountains is magical. One of the most incredible sights was when we went around a corner and there was a massive mountain that seemed to be directly in front of us. It almost looked like the sky and because of the fog, it was impossible to see where it ended. It was breathtaking.

However, one thing I cannot recommend is driving almost non stop for 9 hours with 4 people, 2 dogs (a boxer and chihuahua, both puppies but the boxer being very big) and numerous suitcases in an average sized European car.

One Year

"Today it's been exactly one year of living in Lyon!" Oh, I desperately wish I could write those words. But I can't -- it's not true.

That day was yesterday.

And yesterday, I was completely unmotivated to write. It's not that I didn't remember and reflect upon the year, it's just that I didn't want to write about it. I still don't, honestly. Because this year has been a mixed bag.

Isn't life?

But this year, these 365-plus-one-days of life abroad, has contained the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

Extremes.

This year has sucker-punched us with painful goodbyes, especially the earthly loss of Greg's mom. Many tears have been shed this year, by all four of us. For the girls, the adjustment to public school in France was brutal. In the early days, just summoning up the courage to venture out in public was a challenge. Trying to navigate a new culture and language often targeted us for ridicule. The weird sensation of feeling totally alone in a crowd exposed deeply ingrained insecurity issues. We had fights, Greg and I, some of the worst in our entire 21-year marriage. Trying to encourage our pre-teen to see the bright side of things left us exhausted. Missing our family and friends ached physically.

But there's another side to the coin.

There have been glorious days, days filled to overflowing with beauty and friendships and laughter. We've walked through some of the most beautiful countryside I've ever seen. Because at first all we had was each other, we've bonded more closely as a family than ever before. We've celebrated silly successes with our language victories, and we've even learned to laugh at our mistakes and not take ourselves so seriously. Ministry and church life have flourished. We've met incredible people and formed instant bonds with many of them. We've loved deeply.

The earth has completed another slow journey around the sun, and in that time I've certainly changed. I'm stronger now due to some of the challenges I've faced. I've realized that my worth doesn't come from my performance or my appearance, but because I am a precious child of God. I've learned (am learning) to count it all as blessing; to give thanks for both the good and the bad. I can cross each swift river of the unknown by faith because the bridge is Christ.

From one year to the next, that bridge will always hold.

Travel post #4: Biarritz (Guest post from Lindsey)

Hello everybody! This is Lindsey, I'm the daughter of Wende and I'm guest blogging today.

Now recently I went on a trip to Biarritz France, and I thought it would be fun to tell all of you about my trip.

    So this is the first view I got of the beautiful beach! 

  The beach was nice because it was both 

rocky, and sandy. I had a wonderful time here

with my friend who I went with drinking smoothies, and eating ice-cream.

The next thing I did was go to the Biarritz aquarium,

where I saw some great animals!

I really hope you enjoyed my blog!

If you want to you can check out my youtube channel

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCf8OMUV3Nv3rBLwwzJv5DUQ

Travel post #3: Oingt

First, a weather update: the current temperature (July 10, 2014) is 13C (55F). I have to document this, so when it's blazing hot in August I can look back and remind myself that it was actually cold in July.

Now on to sunnier topics. This post is part of my intermittent travel series, and this time we're heading to the Beaujolais town of Oingt (pronounced, very nasally, something like "wahn").

Photo courtesy voyage.michelin.fr

Greg and I first visited Oingt on our first trip to Lyon in December 2011. Oingt is situated about 36 km northeast of Lyon, a pleasant one hour drive through the hilly countryside of the Beaujolais wine district. Even that winter, Oingt was pretty: golden stone glowed warmly from the hilltop village, beckoning us forth.  Summertime makes this quaint town even more beautiful, as dazzlingly bright red, purple, and yellow flowers spill over the confines of their pots and beds. We revisited Oingt just a couple of weeks ago, this time accompanied by our daughters and one of Lori's friends from America.

Strolling through this once-medieval town immediately made me think of the opening scene of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I couldn't help singing aloud, "there goes the baker with his tray like always..." Yes, the teens were horrified.

We started our day by climbing the winding staircase to the top of the old church. The inside is humble yet beautiful in its simplicity. An artistically mis-shapen golden cross decorates an otherwise plain stone altar. In December, the church boasts a large and very unique wooden creche (nativity scene).

From the church, we wandered throughout the tiny village (population around 600) and found an artist's works on display inside one of the ancient medieval buildings. The artist was very kind, and patient with our "Franglish" as we admired his works and asked questions about his life in Oingt. Eventually he walked us through a narrow, low passageway deeper into the building (which was a little creepy, actually -- I'm glad Greg was with us). More of his paintings and sculptures were on display there, inside a perfectly round, tiny, cold room. It turned out that we were in the center of what used to be the town dungeon! He pointed to a hole in the roof, formerly used to lower food and water to the prisoners. It was fascinating!

Beneath this tower is the dungeon 

We escaped the dungeon without incident and found the only open cafe (it was a Monday, the day when most shops and many restaurants are closed in France). We lounged lazily on the terrace which overlooked picturesque vineyards below as we soaked up the sun and feasted on crepes.

This short visit to Oingt was a day trip we'll remember fondly as the prelude to those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. Now, if the sun would just come out!

A Most Unusual Fourth

In America, our family always celebrated the Fourth of July with the typical fare of parades, cookouts, and fireworks.

Not so this year.

In France, the 4th of July is just another day. It was technically the last day for public schools, although students have been trickling out like a steady drip from a faucet since grades came out a few weeks ago. Lindsey skipped her final day of school, thanks to an invitation to accompany a friend on her family's week-long beach vacation. Greg worked all day, and I did the normal household chores. Lori hung out with a friend. Like I said before, it was just another day.

Later that evening, though, we enjoyed the company of some friends from Botswana, Africa who came over for dinner. While I was putting the finishing touches on the meal, Germany was putting the finishing touches on France in the World Cup. Greg and our friends watched the final minutes on TV, but Lori got the chance to watch it on a big screen in Place Bellecour with thousands of avid football fans. Later she described the scene to us: a throng of wall-to-wall fans were crammed together, singing La Marseillaise proudly, waving giant French flags and cheering with excitement. Red, white, and blue smoke bombs positioned throughout the square created a hazy veil which wafted over the  crowd. Little by little, the fans became more subdued as Germany prevailed, 1-0.

Lori is somewhere in the blue smoke

Back at the apartment, we turned off the TV and sat down to dinner. Our friends entertained us with stories of life in Botswana. We listened, riveted by tales of traditional village life, entranced by descriptions of raw unspoiled desert beauty. They told us of a land where wild animals roam freely, and it's not unusual to see rhinos, elephants, gazelles, even the occasional lion or cheetah ("they don't bother you as long as you keep a healthy distance"....yeah right!) The wife recalled dreamily of the time she got to visit the awesome Victoria Falls: "one cannot walk away from there thinking there is no God," she said. We laughed along with them at funny stories from their childhoods and courtship. It was a great evening.

Now as I reflect over this most unusual Fourth of July, I smile at the irony of eating an Italian meal with African friends after watching a French football match on an American holiday! Even though it was an enjoyable night, I do miss our American traditions. I always enjoy watching fireworks, and I'm really craving a hot dog right now. What I really miss the most is the deep pride I feel on Independence Day in America. However, this year's "un-holiday" fostered a sense of pride as well: not for my home country, but for my world, and for my God who brings us all together in perfect unity.