Heading Out

Wish I could write more. Checking out of my apartment in an hour. Agh!

Will post more definitive ministry wrap-ups for GBU, JAO, and L'Arche in the next two weeks.

The rundown--
June 29-July 3--Going to London for Poet's Corner and Indian cuisine. And tea. Granddaddy says it's my going away present to myself. :)
July 3--Compiegne
July 4-6--Chantilly/Gouvieux and Apremont with missionary and French families
July 6-7--Compiegne
July 8--Arrive on American soil (at least this is the plan)

July 8-30--Texas Tour
July 30-August 2--Drive and move to Chicago

And here's a picture or two to tied you over until the stories.

Sunset ride out by the chateau tracks

Picnic with Mahina and JoJo

GBU End of Year Picnic on the Oise

Boat tour in Amiens with Le Moulin

L'Arche Staff BBQ in the woods

Horizons Evangeliques

Interested in reading more about the pulse of Christianity in France? Want to grow in your French comprehension? Looking for a current resource for students, your personal library, or research?

May I introduce you to Horizons Evangeliques, France's new Christian magazine which promises to be an excellent theological, practical, and intellectual engagement between faith and the French, and hopefully you!

Visit the website for subscription information.

Personal note: The pastor of the Compiegne church is part of the writing/editing team!

As a Christian

I came across the following as I read on the way back from a Le Moulin outing to Amiens (pictures to follow at some point). It comes from an Epistle to Diognetus, a respected pagan some speculate may have been a Greek emperor in the 1st century:

Christians do not distinguish themselves from others by their country, their language or their dress.
They do not belong to any particular city, they do not make use of special dialects, their way of life has nothing particular about it.
They do not set themselves up, as many others do, as champions of a human doctrine.
They do not distribute themselves in Greek or barbaric cities according to pre-arranged divisions.
They conform to local customs as regards clothes, food and life-style while bearing witness to the extraordinary and truly paradoxical laws of the spiritual republic to which they belong.
They live each in their own country but like strangers in the house.
They fulfill all their duties as citizens, and put up with all their tasks, but like strangers.
Every strange land is their country and every country is for them a strange land.
In the same way they are in the flesh but they do not live according to the flesh.

And so we find that as citizens of the city of Zion to come, we are particularly crafted in our being and faith to be the most mobile of human creatures. Our attachments to "home," land, and nation rank far below second place as we hear the call to go and make disciples and go and love our neighbors, those who become our neighbors. We see too that within enclaves composed of ourselves, "the paradoxical laws of the spiritual republic" lose meaning and indeed, lose existence. So we find it strange to return home. We find it unsettling to speak only of "Christian" subjects in "Christian" settings--thus Gospel, justice, love, and grace should once and always be on the tips of our tongues and in the reach of our hands in how we live and for what our blood courses. And we find that a place and people can become in many senses as our own, adopted through our citizenship which claims the globe and our loyalties which disregard all that would keep us nationally and spiritually secure.

News Bytes

Below I've linked you to some interesting resources and articles as of late. I'm not stirring any political pot, because that's not my job. Nonetheless, for an American living in France, these articles have served me well to understand some conversations I've had here concerning U.S. elections, namely that I've noted the French don't realize Republicans exist, which has amused me to no end. I have repeatedly had to clarify for people, "It's not just about Obama and Clinton." Oh? they say. Oui...oh.

I would like to add this as well. Americans could learn a thing or two concerning environment care from the French. While a popular trend here and a growing trend of concern in the states, I personally find I recycle more, waste less, always carry a re-usable bag in my purse, am addicted to my bicycle or feet, and think about energy use increasingly more since living in France. If you ask for a plastic sack, they'll say, "Tsk, tsk, l'environnement." And if you don't turn out lights, they will come behind and do it for you. Needless to say, one learns quickly to be mindful of the small things which add up to make a difference.

CNN's Eye on France
I have not watched or read much of this CNN Special, but I recommend it nonetheless if you're looking for the latest coverage on France's shifting cultural and political role in Europe and the world.

Race, France, and U.S. Elections

Maureen Dowd's latest op-ed concerning Carla Sarkozy and her surprisingly positive effect on Sarko's popularity.

Roger Cohen on Obama and France

Week in Review

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, today, you get lucky. I'm posting pictures from various events, etc. of the last 1-2 weeks. I have little mental capacity to write anything lucid nor the physical energy to keep my eyes open long enough to do so. This week has been full of late nights and early mornings, days full of so much moving that at their end my feet are numb. Literally numb. I've planned only a picnic lunch and a L'Arche foyer dinner tomorrow, so it is my off day to pack, organize, and make my apartment look like I'm moving out in...5 days!!!!!!!!!!!

Without further ado...(btw, these are out of order b/c I'm a tech idiot and not taking the time to sort them all around)

6/20--Set-up for the American party at Le Moulin

Setting up with staff

They surprised me with gifts that participants created, this painting by Gerard
being a particular favorite of mine.

My friend Mahina and her friend Martin provided our live entertainment!!!

The music drew quite the crowd, a big hit!

Teaching the natives line-dancing.

Attempting Texas two-step

6/22--Baptism at Compiegne Baptist Church

Pastor Pierre is the bearded long-haired on the left.

6/22--Fete de la Musique (Music party) later in the day

BBQ following the Fete de la Musique,
i.e., minus 2 hours I was at church from 10:30am until 8:30pm

6/17--Madame Bataille correcting my French for my goodbye words at L'Arche.

6/17--GBU Prayer and Worship Night

Passing the leadership baton

6/21--7a.m. bike ride along the Oise River and into the fields

6/14--7a.m. 30 km bike ride in the forest to Pierrefonds, local castle town

6/14--Jean-Stephane and Chloe headed to tennis lessons

Later in the day, football lessons with Chloe and Loick.

J-Cool

My first strawberry clafoutis for a L'Arche foyer dinner

Saturday morning market, a habit I will miss greatly in America.

6/16--Monday morning Le Moulin planning meeting
Valerie, Martine, Francis, Benedicte (L to R)

6/12--Dinner at the foyer Le Demeure

"Mentioned in Passing"

Mentioned in Passing
In Memory of Anne-Marie Osborne Aycock Posey
June 14, 1914-June 17, 2008

It comes in waves, almost steadily
Mimicking morning sun’s rhythm
Surprisingly yet surely
The ebb and flow
Of life and death
Of what was and shall not be again

Hands that mixed and made with deftness
Pie shells for family and neighbors
Packed peas for the winter months
Canned tomatoes and stored up jams
Whipped up the only pies I’ve ever liked
Tickled my ears while I laid on her lap

She woke me at 7am on many a weekend morning for fresh bacon and eggs
Gathered family year after year into her home for every holiday
Held up dress after dress for me to try on
Let me nervously drive her car before I was old enough to do so legally
(the same car I still drive today)
Told story upon story of life on the farm
From World War I to Depression to II to Korea to Vietnam
Cared for and buried a father, a mother, a husband, my Poppy, her sister

Now she too joins them
And in this we find cause to rejoice
That generation after generation gather round a Throne

We’re not sure,
But the Bible says maybe we won’t have our families and spouses after passing
But my sister says, “Well……”
And I respond, “Yeah, there’s that too…”
The ambiguity
But we can hope

Jesus will be enough for her we know
But wouldn’t it be sweet
For Mamaw and Poppy to worship Jesus together
I think they would like that
And most of all, I think God would too


"I like to think of heaven as the holding place until
We’re released back onto this earth made New
As it was meant to be
As we were meant to be"

It Has Begun

Between 24-48 hours ago, It began. "It" may hereafter be defined for this post as "the total loss and control of emotions, specifically that of tears." It is, in a word, rough. I have taken extra precautions. I am beginning to let people know this will happen sporadically and I will be unable to do anything about It. I have stopped wearing mascara on my bottom lashes and may stop wearing it altogether, depending on how the next 48 hours of diagnostic testing go. It connects to very little logic other than what is going on in my head and heart, which if you can figure the logic out of those two, you get a prize. It happens when I realize I'm doing something for the last time--like swimming with Moulin participants, enjoying a firework spectacle with the Prevotes, encouraging again the JAO leadership transition team, getting with students for what may very well be final goodbyes, bike rides to places that in a couple weeks time will no longer be in the my life, eating betterave rouge (red beet) salad that I once detested but I now long for, going to dinners in L'Arche foyers, etc, etc. It happens most pointedly when I'm all alone, sitting on my favorite church garden bench to savor my holy space or washing my face in the bathroom. Without warning, as It's definition suggests, I am all apart.

I've had visions too of chaining myself to something grounded and inanimate and pitching an "I don't wanna fit," which I rarely did as a child but now the moment appropriately seems to call for it, to protest my departure. People keep bringing up what date it is, and this does not help. At all.

Yes, yes, as I go, I am doing so in peace. But that doesn't mean every now and then I can't just be a human and grieve and lose it and pitch a fit. I just hope they can drag me out of the car July 8. We have no idea how that day will go.

Not One for the Dinner Table

Islam, Virginity, and French Law

This article raises so many issues on so many levels I won't even attempt to articulate my thoughts. Read it all please.

It is Time

Final GBU Bible Study at UTC

The ladies (sans Natacha)

I finally looked at the calendar today and promptly fell into a panic attack. I've been putting if off for a while now, counting specifics days and weeks and all, and was only made aware of it being a month away from my July departure on June 8th when someone told me. That was not a happy moment, and I can't remember who you are but you shouldn't have done that. Oddly, I am not weepy but stalwart, resolute in pressing forward with my various calls which brought me here until the very end. It's what one has to do, or at least I have to do, to not do the following...

I'm canceling my ticket home. I have mulled it over for multiple evening conversations with myself and honestly, it's not that I don't trust God to be faithful to continue his work here without me. But it feels, I think, quite selfish to leave. Christian Americans who read this blog (and any others of course), I would like to say this to you (and myself as well)--you've got it good. In fact, easy. Pick a corner of a town and you've got a church before you. I recently read an excellent book which records the following: "For a religious marketplace to exist, a society cannot have state-established, supported, and regulated churches." The authors follow with this a few paragraphs down: "...when religion becomes disestablished, it opens the doors for creative religious entrepreneurs to market their alternative faiths to religious consumers. The general public, likewise, is freed--at least in ideal--to choose among options. Disestablishment in the context of a new, pluralistic nation [America] led to a religious marketplace."* I will be the first to admit I am guilty of this on many levels and deciding on where to attend church is a very serious question for me. But, welcome to America. On the other side of the Atlantic, however, welcome to France, where there is no marketplace but rather a population cynical of church due to a sordid Church-State past (among other reasons) and maybe oh, 4-5 Protestant churches within my town or an hour+ beyond. My wrestlings with selfishness become clear. I also leave behind this--

Yesterday Corine and I plopped down on the grass next to the Oise River. We began to talk and she shared what she was learning from her quiet times, how it's "bizarre" that the particular questions she is asking every day continue to be met with response in her Scripture reading and meditations, encouraged by a Lecteur de la Bible her grandmother sent her from Cameroun! She began unfolding to me the story of Job and this was not my time to ask questions but to simply listen. To have this young, sincere, tender woman of Jesus teach me from her heart what God has been teaching her through Scripture of himself.

Earlier in the day, during lunch with Natacha, Corine, and Marie-Pierre, Natacha delivered as promised the teaching and worship of Passion: Paris. With great gusto and laughter, for which she is now in my mind famous, she covered all the points taught and again, this was not my time to talk. It was my time to listen and encounter this dear, fervent young woman teach her sisters of how God would use them.

So you see. I am leaving a lot. And it is selfish. But maybe you also see that it is time. A year is too short, and I struggle with a bit of jealousy reading of a brother leaving an Asian country after 3 years. Three years, I thought, what a dream! Time to really sink into a place, a people, to know the rhythms of the lives of those we love far deeper than I can within a year. This week, however, the same moments that made me want to cancel my ticket also told me, You can go. You can go.

In peace, then, I will go. And leave in the hands of my most capable God the lives, the hearts, the unfolding stories of those whom he said before time, I have knit them into your skin Jennifer to love but I have knit them into my hand to keep always.

In love, I came. In peace, I go. And for this I am a most grateful woman.

*Divided by Faith:Evangelical Religion and the Problem of Race in America; Michael O. Emerson and Christian Smith

GBU Update--Whoo-hoo!!!

Tonight GBU students gather for the last Bible study of the year. We are beginning the great spring wind down, followed next week with a night of worship and prayer and the week after with a big end of year, invite your friends party. God has been good this year, has made us numerous, has equipped students, and has begun galvanizing an identity for them together.

Praise be to God as well for the following. Natacha has decided, after the Passion worship conference, that she wants to go the GBU camp, the very same one I started out at last August. Over sandwiches on the yard today with her, Corine, and Marie-Pierre, Corine softly interjected as I told Natacha I would get her all the sign-up information, "Me too, I want to go." Hooray!!!!! Pray that the two of them will definitely sign up and go and that we can figure out some help financing their participation. (If you're interested, don't hesitate to contact me.)

This all is indeed good news. Pray that as I work with Nari and Armel to call out leaders for next year they would come together and continue the vision and work of GBU at Compiegne.

Please pray for us. This can't be done without the prayers of the people!!!

And the Wall Came Tumbling Down

This morning after church Nari and I were walking to join Natacha for sandwiches down by the river. Natacha was in charge of an information display for Mozaik at an all-city garage sale wherein students were invited to participate. To the point, on the way Nari and I passed by an entry to a cyber cafe next to UTC that I pass all the time. Today, however, I heard loud “hallelujahs” and worship echoing out into the street from within. Nari kept walking, on the phone with Natacha and not having heard the praises. “Nari!” I called, “listen.” She came running back and then we just turned to one another, quickly forgetting our sandwiches and waiting Natacha, “Tu veux voir?” [do you want to see] A simultaneous, “Yes.”

It was a gathering of no more than 10-15 adults and children in what would be labeled a small ethnic church. A handful of the women were dressed in traditional African wear, which we later found out was more specifically Congolese. We were welcomed in and took our places at the plastic porch chairs, standing and praising. As the pastor powerfully began speak of the Father God, in whom we have victory, and by whom the disobedient devil was banished from heaven, and because of whom we have hope and joy because of the death and LIFE of Jesus Christ, I began to cry then weep. The pastor was loud and powerful, then at other moments tender and inviting, and I realized. I realized I have forgotten what a powerful God we serve. I wept profusely as Nari laid her hand on my back then I, mine on hers, and I saw Xue. I saw the walls of Jericho. I saw crumbling unbelief. And I saw a God who is capable. Who is powerful. Who has the victory and it is my great sin to not believe and follow obediently in the great conviction that he is tearing down walls. As worship continued, we were invited to take the hand of our neighbor or place our hand on the person in front of us, something I haven’t done in church since I left America. A member of the church prayed and again, more profuse weeping as I heard so much of God’s joy and love in his prayer to a God who is glorious, worthy, powerful. Forgive me, for I have sinned and forgotten.

I love church. And even though I’ve gone through rough spells, I always have and will need church in a way I can’t explain. Today I was reminded of the place wherein God has established the Church in the living out of Christian faith, of identifying with a people and learning of a God corporately. Church affects ministry. In its timidity, church teaches us as well timidity. In its carefulness, it teaches us to be careful. In its boldness, it teaches us proclamation. In its teaching emphases, be it stoic intellectual recitations, inspired and informed textual exegesis, proclamations of Gospel through spoken and sung word, it teaches something about the person of God beyond what is simply stated. Through the implicit curriculum of form and function and method of Sunday mornings, or Saturday nights or Friday evenings or whatever, we as members of a church and ministers of the Gospel are equipped, or ill-equipped, to know how to go about our weeks of living with others in his name.

While my job here is to support and not criticize, this morning I realized the French church has as many walls up to a powerful and liberating God as the culture. God is moving in the church, there is no doubt. Nonetheless, values and identities such as homogeneity in form, fear, safety, carefulness, not thinking outside the box, are just as much at work in churches here as they are in the culture. And both church and culture are bound here in a way that saddens and teaches me how to direct my prayers and encouragements. I am not basing this realization off of one morning’s experience in an ethnic church, for there are other instances, and one this week at Passion has led me to see God’s hand in placing these pieces of comprehension before me. Knowing Americans as I do, knowing the energy-expectations of Passion as I do, I realized this by reading the body language and encouragements of the Passion stage—France was and is a tough crowd, even the passionate Christians. Because of so many national wounds, they have learned to play it safe. And sadly, I think, this life becomes best lived with a safe God.

This morning, as Nari and I walked out of this small little church gathering, jaws to the ground with how awesome God’s presence was there, I told her, “I forgot that we serve a powerful God who can tear down walls.” And in further reflection I am reminded of the oft-quoted because it’s SO true line of C.S. Lewis in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe concerning Aslan, the lion who symbolizes in this series Jesus. “Safe? Of course [Aslan] isn’t safe. But he’s good.” I serve a good God, who is not safe, who is not timid, who demands that I shout and pray that walls come down.

Note: It is a known fact amongst French national Christians, mission workers, and ethnic Christians (in France this normally means of African origin) that ethnic churches may at times not always have the clearest theologies, namely that there can be incorporated into their beliefs and practices remnants of spiritism and animism. Another visit will help me in discerning, but this morning I heard three in one preached--Father, Son, and Spirit--and did not hear nor discern worship, praise, or pastoral direction that would place me ill-at-ease. Several points in fact confirmed a sincerity and Spirit-led gathering.

Foyer Evangelique Universitaire

This morning Joy and I headed north to Lille, France, to visit a university ministry called Foyer Evangelique Protestante, or FEU which means “fire” in French. I am now familiar with GBU and through the states and some contacts here aware of Agape, European Campus Crusade. (try inviting a Muslim to a “Crusade” event : /) FEU was the latest on the list of ministries to check out. To say Joy and I were excited and overwhelmed by our time there would be an understatement. Two young couples with three kids between them welcomed us into their home for a morning discussion of their vision and ministry. Next we were invited to stay for a home-cooked lunch, to which a college student ran down from upstairs to join. Another student ran in from her morning on campus to eat up dessert and play with the kids. One of young wives toured me and Joy around Lille for the afternoon, during which we spent most of the time talking while walking, and not necessarily touring. Great fun! En bref, here is what I would like to share.

Vision
FEU exists to serve the Church, encouraging students who know Jesus and those who come to know him to plug into their local churches. While they offer a regular weekly line-up of events as well, they carefully work to balance and not overlap nor overextend students between their programming and the churches’. In Lille, they work with 4-7 partner churches to connect students with congregations, needs, and church life. FEU sees their role as a part of the Church to build the Church and seeks to cultivate in students habits which will carry them beyond university parachurch activities after receiving their diplomas.

What it Looks Like
FEU’s exist in Grenoble, Lille, Marseille, and Chambery, and take on a variety of forms. Most are facilitated either out of someone’s home, which is bought with the space and intent to rent rooms to students engaged with FEU such as in Lille, or a larger building such as in Grenoble. As we experienced today, in a house or building welcoming students, the front door is always open and someone is always in the home. On Thursdays the team meets together and stays together for a good part of the day, thus contributing to the community sense of the ministry. FEU is a part of France pour Christ’s mission and is a relatively new ministry as far as mission history goes. It is also a France-born ministry.

Weekly Ministries
FEU Lille’s weekly ministries begin on Sunday, transporting students to church in a large vehicle. For the afternoon, they gather students for football (soccer), which provides an excellent opportunity to connect with students outside of FEU. Sunday evenings they often organize a culture-themed party replete with food, music, maybe dancing, and hanging out. Mondays are prayer. Tuesdays are prayer and days on campus engaging in evangelization by giving 12-question Bible knowledge tests to passing students. This year they have been able to connect with 600-900 students through these questionnaires, many leading to more significant conversations and invitations to FEU. Thursday they offer a Bible study and are looking to begin next year shuffling students to churches for studies there instead depending on local church activity. Saturdays they organize tourist outings, beach trips, and other fun gatherings for students, many of whom they shared don’t get out and see much if it isn’t organized for them. Alongside regular activities, each member of the couples is actively engaged in meeting with students one-on-one for discipleship, prayer, and Bible study. Each couple and students involved in leadership are significantly involved in local churches so as to fuel FEU’s vision and model church participation for other students.

Personal Note
If you’ve been keeping up this year, church attendance has been a huge prayer request this year with students. Having seen increased faithfulness in attendance I am encouraged but also have needed wisdom in how to further connect these students with a church I’m myself learning. Being at FEU today provided a great source of encouragement, vision, and resources, seeing that here exists a ministry feeding into the life of the local church. Being there as well with Joy was excellent because I asked questions from the student ministry perspective and she asked from both local French church needs perspective as well as potential placement for short-termers with GEM such as myself (to which they are VERY open). Our different sets of questions were able to fuel a broader discussion and garner more well-rounded, useful information.

Before we headed out, we stopped by the “Catho,” the Catholic university and one of many Lille universities. According to Wikipedia, with over 97,000 students, this city is considered “one of the first student cities in France.” Let me add, nothing gets my blood pumping like a college campus. Nothing. And nothing gets it pumping more than one attracting national and international populations, such as Lille and such as Compiegne here, yet on a much smaller scale. Today my blood was really pumping.

Ah, feels like home...in front of the Catholic university main hall

On the way out of town, we drove through Roubaix, keeping our eyes out for potential mosques, which we know exist but for which I was unable to find addresses. Shocker. If you google Roubaix, you will pull up many articles on Muslim-civic interactions. This is considered one of the most heavily Muslim-populated cities in France and has attracted significant research attention in France and internationally.

Although we didn’t see much of Lille, if you are interested in checking out academic life, ministry opportunities, or want to visit a place not Paris (which I recommend), this is a great spot. Please feel free to leave a comment if you would like more information concerning FEU or other opportunities in Lille.

Passion: Paris

Just got in from Passion: Paris. Forgot my camera. Whoops. Students and young adults from my church had a blast!

Following is the song that brought me to weeping tears.

God of this City

I include the brief clips from Kampala, because it was their Ugandan prayers and financial gifts that covered us in Paris this night. As Louie Giglio shared, "When we asked leaders in Uganda if it would be weird for them to give money to the Paris event, they said, 'Uh, yeah.'" France and the Western World is always giving to African countries. But tonight as Louie proclaimed, "But tonight, you are receiving from Uganda, which is how God's Kingdom works. It all gets turned upside down." Amen.

Passion in Kampala
Worship in Kampala

Not My Day

Yesterday did not go at all as planned. In fact, everything I had written on my calendar didn't happen. I have a bike tire problem and since I'm a biking idiot cannot fix it myself. This has taken some time. I ended up going to back to L'Arche in the afternoon to see Sabine at the hospital with others, since I am delinquent and have not done so yet. I was also fielding calls a good part of the afternoon and evening concerning Passion: Paris details, which I was of course happy and equipped to do but had not realized would take so much time. Some items, albeit extra, like buying a birthday card for a friend and flowers for Sabine and groceries, were scrapped due to limited time and no wheels. A few other items rearranged my day and when I walked in at 6pm I felt a little overwhelmed to think about my unaccomplished to do list, yet all that I had done within the day was "supposed" to happen and there was nothing that I would have changed. Except my transportation issues...and to clarify, having my bike out of commission is a little like having your car out of commission. What I can accomplish in 30 minutes becomes 2 hours. You see the difference.

As well, transitioning to life back in the states requires some effort on this end and working according to stateside office hours. So when your day begins at 9am, my second day is beginning then too, around 4pm, if I'm here. And if not, which is often the case, my 6pm til about 10pmish. Fun times.

I fell asleep decompressing and processing the day with God as I looked out my lightly curtained windows at the dark sky. "Well, that just didn't go as planned, did it?" To which I promptly, with some Spirit help, responded, "Guess it wasn't your day after all?!" God and I had a nice laugh and chat about that before I cruised into sleepyville.

You would think yesterday would have situated me well for this morning but it didn't. I forgot to prep the coffee last night so didn't have any this morning. My bike which I thought was okay I discovered was flat again, a slow internal leak. So I called L'Arche while rolling down the street, aware that the cuisine group was all mine today, and said, I'm on my way but coming slowly on my bike. Now, I know it is not good for the frame to use a flat tire...but I could have cared less. I entered five minutes late still on the phone with my neighbor asking if he could help me take care of this problem. He and his friend would come by and pick it up and take it to get fixed. So while juggling a decreased number of cuisine participants, bike phone calls, etc, I glanced at an email which told me an email announcement about the June 7th JAO had not been sent. I wanted to throw ice at a fence (my mother's anger management plan for me as a child). On top of this I felt like a complete failure at L'Arche because while accomplishing the task, I was not fully present to the moment and needs of others and had to keep running out of the prayer and share time on the phone coordinating my bike pick up. Then it started to rain. I had not brought an umbrella and had determined I should not have woken up for this day. Pretty sure an English expletive came out. I called Marie-Pierre who I was meeting for lunch to say I would be late because I was on foot rather than bike. She understood. No worries. As well I was trying to get hold of colleagues to determine how to handle this JAO situation--was it a cultural timing/calendar issue I had to swallow? Should I suggest another date? Could we find one? Why wasn't this done earlier?!

Before I left L'Arche, three things happened. Valerie asked if we could grab coffee next week. Jordane, an assistant, asked if I wanted to eat at her foyer next week or two. Dalila who comes daily to Moulin invited me to dinner next Thursday, which is a big "validated" act to be able to invite someone into your foyer not as an assistant but as a "personne accuilli", handicapped person or literally "welcomed person."

Then when I met Marie-Pierre, she had met Natacha who was headed to the cafeteria alone. Can we eat together? Um, yeah! So we all three headed to the creperie nearby in centre ville and shared an absolutely wonderful time together. Marie-Pierre is eager to get together next week and it was wonderful to see Natacha and catch up a a bit. She's headed to Passion tonight with Nari, Clement, Sylvaine, and myself, all of GBU, and was pumped.

As I started my walk home after taking care of my yesterday's scrapped to do's out--post office, birthday card, grocery store--which is quick and easy to do if you are in centre ville, I breathed the cool windy spring air here that is constantly perfumed with fresh blooms. Since I'm always flying on my bike somewhere, sometimes the pace of walking and breathing is lost on me. I laughed as I hopped down a little side street. Well, God, I prayed in thought, you're using this morning to put me in a great spot for worship tonight are you not? You see, I've been a little cynical at times about Passion, not because I don't think it's great and that students will be refreshed. But here is this great big American event in English for French Christians, and I don't know enough to know how to personally sort through all my hang-ups about it. God repeatedly brought me back to my hardened heart and reminded me, You let me use what I will from this and just worship me. This morning, along with yesterday, was no different and it humbled me to realize it took a frustrating, out of it morning to ready me to enter the throne room. Shouldn't I always be softened and readied?

I was thinking as well on the way home on the question someone from my church posed for a bulletin insert upon my return, how has God used you? I wonder at the question and answer. Have I been used? Have I been useful? Have I been ready and willing? What would I look back over this year and believe God might have, in an odd moment of deciding to look on me as a daughter he could do something with for his purposes, seen for me. I think he saw Natacha's smile, Marie-Pierre's eagerness, Xue's sincerity, Sabine's pain, Dalila's invitation, Valerie's encouragement and peace, and my great brokenness. Then he did this--Plunk! Off you go, to Compiegne, do my bidding, and when you have a bad day or morning, I'll be there to give you a reason why you needed it.

Yesterday it was to be reminded my days are not my own. Today it was to prepare my heart for coming before him in my native tongue. And tomorrow, well, I hope tomorrow is better.