"Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." -Ephesians 3: 20-21
The sermon at Hillsong Church in Paris was on this passage. My first Sunday there, I realized that I was a living testimony of what was being read. Once again, God has far exceeded all my expectations, hopes, and dreams. I was sitting there with a crowd of French and international students after months of prayer...not just my own but that of other beautiful people in my life who have been praying for accountability and spiritual growth for me here. Thank you.
This church is fairly large...someone told me after service that there are around 600 regular attendees and numerous "connect groups" (their version of small groups) that take place every week around the city. When the congregation got too large for the building, they moved into this bigger venue in the 14th arrondissement...about four months ago! It's literally a 12 min walk from my foyer, and I couldn't help but think that four months ago I was starting my applications for my program here. He is always ten steps ahead of me, and I praise Him for that. I praise Him for the people in Paris who are crazy in love with Him. I praise Him for the chance to sing "This is Our God" ("C'est Notre Dieu") in French and then to hear the French sister next to me sing it in English with a thick French accent-it was so beautiful! I praise Him for the precious time of fellowship over a cup of "noisette" (hazelnut coffee) and a fun game of Uno at a neighborhood café. I praise Him for the hope He has given me. Daddy, you are so good.
Ressuscité et élevé A jamais Tu seras glorifié Roi serviteur Sauveur du monde C'est notre Dieu
So last night was one of the most daring things I’ve ever done, but I realized that I have to be brave if I want to make the most of my stay here. Instead of heading to bed early after dinner, I talked to a friend on the phone who lives just by the Arc de Triomphe. After mauling over the decision to meet up with her at the Champs-Elysees…by myself…at 9:30pm, I finally decided to go out [if my parents are reading this, I’m sorry umma and appa!]. I know I should not have walked by myself at night, but I had this urge to figure the metro out myself before hunting for a church in the morning. I downloaded calming music into my iPod, tucked my map into my bag, and stepped outside. Briskly and quite nervously walking past the more secluded streets in the neighborhood, I remember feeling a little queasy with this newfound independence. Might I add that I am the worst with directions—my nickname at school is “lost little lamb”! Oy.
(L) brightly lit "cinéma" (R) bustling nightlife on the Champs-Elysees
Well, God was indeed merciful, and I met my friend just under the huge Charles de Gaulle statue where I could see the Arc illuminated by a warm glow a few blocks down. It was spectacular, and I finally felt like I was in Paris again, the glamorous Paris that most of the world imagines. Everything was lit up and the streets were bustling with people. Many had shopping bags in tow, which is not surprising since one of the two annual sales in France is going on now. You’ll see “SOLDE” (sale)posted in nearly every store window and great masses huddled inside. We ate at a cute, moderately priced sandwich shop and watched frantic shoppers scurry by. The evening quickly passed as we walked through the streets and soaked in the Parisian nightlife. By the time I returned, I was ready to sleep. Thank you for keeping me safe, Lord.
This morning, I woke up to Hilary’s phone call—she’s a dear sister who I served with in Cameroon last summer, and we were to reunite in Paris! I walked down the same path to the neighborhood metro, but the sun was out this time and the streets were fragrant with the smell of fresh flowers and baked goods. Pressed for time, I couldn’t linger at the outdoor market, but I took a different route and finally found the small evangelical church that I heard about tucked away in the corner of a building. It looked like a nursery from the outside, but I soon found about twenty people inside. A sweet lady welcomed me right as the congregation began its communal prayer. It was my first time in a charismatic, let alone FRENCH, church, but what an experience it was. We sang songs like Dieu Merveilleux (“Beautiful One”), and I could not stop smiling hearing prayers lifted up in French. Talk about the God of the universe! I realized what a blessing it was to be able to praise God miles and miles away from home.
It is a beautiful thing to hear John 1 being read aloud in French. It was actually easy to follow my first French sermon, but perhaps the Spirit was just opening my ears at that hour :) I couldn’t help but praise God for the chance to worship with these people! The small church is about 25 years old and a 20-min metro ride away, in a "petite ville" called Boulogne Bilancourt. The pastor there mentioned the hardships of ministering in Paris and the lack of space for the infants during the service. I pray that God will bless this group and provide them with a bigger building as well as their other needs—please bless them and expand their territory, oh Lord!
(L) beautiful Sunday morning on the way to church (R) my "egg yolk" pasta :/
My friend and I stayed for tea afterward and then went out for lunch at an adorable sit-in restaurant. I soon learned that the French don’t believe in “to-go” boxes and had to watch my 12 euro “egg yolk” pasta (if you know me, I had NO idea that they would literally garnish it with egg yolk) go to waste. Lesson learned. Once I got home, I explored le quartier with Steph once more, grabbing fresh crepes from street vendors and visiting a few graves at le Cimetière de Montparnasse.
(L) friendly crepe man (R) just a tad bit excited for my nutella-banana crepe :)
Much accomplished my first week, methinks. I faced my fears, decorated my room, shopped for housekeeping necessities, navigated my way around Paris using what turned out to be a rather simple metro system, and became an expert at approaching strangers with questions. HA.
(L) behind me is "La Tour Montparnasse" the tallest building in Montparnasse (R) steph cheesin'
Tomorrow, the official semester begins. Classes Monday through Friday from 9am-3:30pm, with a 30min commute by metro and lots of walking. This schedule looks a little tougher than the one back in the States. Hrm. School supplies ready. Mind ready. Body, however, needs to rest.
(L) Yes, I taped my entire violin concerto to the wall due to lack of stand (R) supplies? check.
Here we go! Until next time, bonne nuit tout le monde :)
I was not expecting the jet lag to affect me so much, but here I am—alert and wide awake at 1:35am in Paris. My flights went smoothly, though I nearly missed my connection in Philadelphia (note to self: one-hour layovers can go both ways). As the plane lifted off once more from my snow-covered hometown, I felt this sense of emotional weightlessness. I realized that I was no longer standing on familiar territory and that the physical support of those at home would not be readily available anymore. I realized that I was completely in God’s hands and that my own adventure began right then—what a completely nerve-racking and thrilling thought!
(L) smiling at my daddy in DFW airport one last time (R) hehe I made him take one too :D
I was sandwiched between an elderly French gentleman who ordered lots of fancy cocktails and a young woman flying out with her husband for their honeymoon—hehe how cute. I couldn’t fall asleep, so I flipped through the movie channels. After watching The Social Network and Easy A while chewing on far too many dinosaur fruit snacks (teehee), I noticed how both movies dealt with the fear of social ostracism. Though maybe not to that extent, I kind of identified with the characters by wanting to feel accepted in this new country. It was a sobering reminder of how much we humans crave for attention and often search for it in the wrong places. Of course I’m going to do my best to learn the French language and culture, but I cannot let my fear of rejection keep me from bravely exploring life abroad. I am accepted by God through Christ, and He sets me free from this struggle, so I can enjoy Him here. Please hold me accountable to this.
Once the plane landed in Charles de Gaulle, I stood up from my seat with the rest of the passengers when a girl from behind grabbed my arm. My friend from last semester’s French translation class was sitting behind me the ENTIRE time—what are the chances of that happening? Two girls from Dallas, TX and Jacksonville, FL hop on the same connecting flight in Philadelphia to reunite in Paris. Wowie, Lord you surprise me. We ended up taking the same shuttle to our respective arrondissements. Panic and sweat were quickly replaced with excitement and laughter as we drove into the heart of France.
(L) inside the Didot residence :)(R) the cute staircase inside
Soon enough, I got dropped off at this artsy building situated in a street corner undergoing a lot of construction. My foyer houses college/working students ages 18-25, so there are a lot of French and international students. I would compare it to a nicely decorated freshman dorm in the U.S., except the rooms are all apartment style singles with really skinny bathrooms—very cozy and quaint. Let me also add that my bed sheets are my favorite color and the window looks out to a little city park. There’s a communal kitchen, a cafeteria downstairs, a gym (though rather smelly), a tv/wifi area, and a laundry room with DRYERS (pumps fist in the air)!
(L) my little room (R)...after unpacking and rearranging it :)
(L)the view from my window looks out to the 'quartier' (R) my cubby-hole bathroom. hehe.
Anyways, after unpacking I discovered that I needed a few things, but this strange fear of going outside by myself led me to take a nap instead…a long nap. I woke up and wandered into the city (naps give you courage!), typing in every turn into my phone so I won’t lose my way like little Hansel and Gretel leaving cookie crumbs. After passing several charcuteries roasting chicken behind glass panels and countless little boulangeries, I finally found the Monoprix (think French Kmart) thanks to a nice French passerby. I bought a pillowcase, slippers, hand soap, and some tape to hang up pictures in my room. Responding to the hungry cries of my empty stomach, I stopped by a boulangerie, panicked when asked what sandwich I wanted, and ended up buying one with some strange meat (I’m still having trouble figuring out what it is…she said something like “grillon” but I hope I heard wrong because I looked it up and that’s the word for “cricket” o_O).
(L) wandering through the streets in the light drizzle (R) first dinner at the cafe: rabbit!
When I returned, I finally met Steph, the other girl in my program. I decided to save my mystery meat for tomorrow and went downstairs with her to check out the dining hall. Mm I had some rabbit (it tasted like chicken) and potatoes drizzled in gravy, steamed carrots and green beans, as well as a side salad with fruit. Of course it wouldn’t be a complete meal without some baguette and cheese! We met and ate at a table with a student from Wyoming who had already been here for a semester, which was nice because we had a lot of questions to ask.
I spent some time reading and journaling on my bed after dinner with some new friends. Mm, what a pleasant start to my first day here in Paris… c’était une tres bonne journée. Thank you for your prayers, and praise the Lord who puts people in your life at the perfect time.
