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.