I was walking the path to pick up Jane for lunch when I heard the voices of the school-children over the village walls. They were singing about togetherness. They were singing for Paris. They were singing for the world. 

I just about broke down right there. This verse is on my heart, today:

"O people, the Lord has told you what is good, 
and this is what he requires of you: 

to act justly, to love mercy, 

and to walk humbly with your God." 

Micah 6:8

A Place to Begin

In Morocco a couple of weeks ago. We walked through an ancient yet alive city with a local guide. He shared his faith and his culture with us with pride and kindness and intelligence.

As we walked, children were flocking to him for a hug and a smile. ("They are orphans," he told us. "I love them.")

We shared about our own Judeo-Christian faith and his eyes reflected comprehension and respect.

And we talked. And we laughed. And we were sober and concerned for the world. For humanity.

When we parted ways, he was still Muslim and we were still Christian. Naturally. But we were also still simple humans, hearts burdened for so very many of the same things.

Commonalities are a wonderful place to begin.

"Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand." 

Philippians 4:5

De La Paix: Paris

Hello, Friends. Life has been busy and the blog often becomes a good intention. To be honest, I forget about it sometimes and am always surprised (pleasantly) when someone emails to ask after us, because there hasn't been a post in a great while. Thank you.

And in these last few days we've received many emails and notes asking after us, following the recent events in Paris. We are well and safe, but hurt and confused ... like much of France ... like much of the world. I really lack words, so I will share the note I sent to friends and family:

It is evening here in France. Candles are lit in windows to signify the hearts of this country. Seek peace. Walking through the streets, looking through windows ... people sitting. candles lit. hearts in grief. prayers for peace.

Pray that the hearts of France somehow stay soft and sensitized in the wake of horror. That we not grow accustomed to a disregard of life. That peace will be pursued and wisdom desired.

Thank you for your kindness and prayers. In all things, somehow, incredibly, God is good.

A New Kind of Adventure

 It's rather incredible we've been here a year. So very much has happened, been accomplished, struggled through, and deeply enjoyed. It is with mixed emotions that we complete our time here at La Cressonnière and move on to the next adventure.

I have never lived in the country before. Never observed the rhythms of farm life nor experienced the pace. And French country life has a uniqueness of its own. Cows taking a walk down the street, ancient stone barns being repaired, fishing at the la petite rive down by the old mill, taking walks after dinner and moving aside to let the tractors pass.

 It has been a blessing living here. We have been grateful for the space to roam and a peaceful respite from a busy world.

And yet, we are ready. This last week has been full of some rattling hiccups requiring hurried mental adjustments. Namely, we have discovered (for a variety of bureaucratic reasons), that we can no longer drive in France after October 1st. It's a long story. The American in me could not conceive of existing entirely without a car and I had a full two-day panic attack. For serious. A major kink in the plans.

I am still wrestling with nervousness, but we have come to a place of peace and trust in the Lord that this too is part of His plans for us. We are moving to a location where we can approach life on foot, bicycle, bus, and train. Not completely what we planned on, but possible. If we had planned to stay in the country ... impossible.

And God is good.

We pick up our visas next Monday (oh have mercy, let them be there and ready) and depart on Wednesday. With renewed visas in hand we will be able to exit and re-enter the country and have plans for a stop in Burgundy and Switzerland as we work our way down south. We shall enjoy the freedom of driving while we have it and prepare ourselves for a new kind adventure ahead.

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, 

may your ears  hear a voice behind you, saying, 

This is the way; walk in it ..." 

Isaiah 30:21

Visa Renewals and Going Batty

I took this photo of my file-folder awhile back ... because I'm just so darn proud of it.

We are in the middle of a visa renewal right now that included a trip to the regional prefecture, armed with new documentation and ... the trusty file-folder above. Originals and copies of just about every important piece of data ... we treat it with such tender-loving care, we call it our fourth child.

Living in France requires an initial visa process that is so brutal, I'm convinced it's meant to weed out the people who don't want it enough. Before they will even begin consider your general worthiness, you have to jump through so many hoops, fill out so many papers, go to so many appointments, wait in so many lines, and pay so many fees ... a good measure of people bail before they've begun. I totally understand why they might.

And even once you get here, the saga continues.

It appears the children's renewed documentation is ready for pick up. Yea. Ours, however, is supposed to be ready on the 13th of August. We move south on the 12th. After several stilted conversations later, we seem to be permitted to come in on the 11th. And this will be good ... as long as we actually get our carte des sejours at this time. We've heard stories of getting a temporary piece of paper instead and still having to wait for the real deal. And without the real deal ... we can't leave the country -which we have plans to- and we have to come back to pick up the les cartes when they are ready ... except that we will have relocated 8 hours away.

This stuff makes me so batty. But I am trying to remind myself ... one more opportunity to see God's hand of provision at work.

Know the feeling?

To Listen Earnestly

Jane overlooking Portofino, Italy 2015

Our Next Adventure: Provence

Here it is, friends, here it is. In two months we say goodbye to Normandy and hello to a new adventure. Next stop? A little Provençal village called Uzès in an apartment located next to a Pizzeria. A Pizzeria! There is a car park close by where we will stash our car, only to be used for specific trips. We will be able to walk everywhere ... school, the market, church, cafés, shops ... and I am thrilled about this. I've always needed a car to do life and I can't wait for this completely new experience.

I do confess, I am already dreading the impending packing and figuring process that will get us there, but it will happen. Miraculously, it always does.

I took a scouting trip back in March to visit schools, sign lease agreements, and get a "feel" for everything. It felt good. And God has been so amazing in the process. Including giving us an email-to-real-life relationship with a precious, gracious, wonderful, retired Christian couple in the area who offered themselves as friends, translators, and even hosts while I visited.

That's it's own story. Truly.

Jane's school is about a 3 minute walk from the apartment. Love. It had a very warm atmosphere and it's proximity to our home is a direct answer to prayer. I feel very hopeful.

 And look at these little winding pedestrian roads to get there. I was charmed.

 And of course, right next to the school is a Duchy. Naturally. (Picks jaw off of the cobblestones.)

Peter and Lucette's school is a bit farther, but a completely doable bike-ride. I'd say 15-20 minutes walking, 5-7 minutes on bike. We'll have to figure out some bikes. But either way, it is still close enough for a quick trip home for lunch. (It's France. We have 2 hours for lunch.) I'm really happy about this.

I'm also happy about the fact that even though the older two are at a separate building/school from Jane, both schools are much smaller than what we've done this year. That approachability is greatly desired. Yet another thing on our prayer list.

Uzès is also known to have a killer outdoor market, twice a week, all year-round.

And it takes about 4 minutes to walk there from the apartment. I'm a little out of my mind about this.

And even though this photo is from pre-spring March, you can see how gorgeous the surrounding countryside is. Village life with the country at the back door. It kind of sounds too good to be true.

I'm really excited to share about this, especially because I've been feeling rather down and homesick lately. Also, still trudging through some diagnostics with my headache/health situation. It's easy to feel like I'm "ready to be done" ... even though I'm really not. Just going through these photos is a reminder of all of God's provisions and to just enjoy the ride.

Like all life-seasons, it'll be over before I know it and I'll be remembering nostalgically about these very days I'm in. Good things can be tough and tough things can be good.

In the meantime, there is life to be lived and enjoyed and entrusted unto Him. Okay then. Off we go...

Loved Ones and New Days

I love this photo of Pops and his Dad. Like the two of them, it says so much with out saying much at all.

We were most blessed to have my in-laws come for a springtime stay this past month. They brought gifts from the States (English magazines, candy, and steel-cut oats were the height of excitement!), as well as love and hugs and affection. It feels good to be loved on by friends and family when living halfway across the world.

The weather while they were here was unbelievably beautiful and sunny, making for lunches outside, promenades to see the creek and the cows and rousing games of demolition petanque (Like a kamakaze bocci ball sort of game that the menfolk devised. Stay alert. That's's my advice ... stay alert.).

Whilst here, we also took a rather epic train trip to the northern Ligurian area of Italy. We had three connections each way and anyone who has traveled by European rail knows that it's no joke. The train roles in and you have 2-3 minutes to locate the correct car and board with all 7 seven people in your party plus luggage and bags ... while dodging other travelers, trying to discern all of the directions in foreign languages, and keeping the family circus intact and alive. It's intense.

I have some lovely photos and memories to post for posterity on our time in Italy. It was beautiful, as Italy insists on. I did, however, manage to develop a pretty severe migraine while there that kept me in bed a bit and set me back some. It's two weeks on and I am still avoiding light (and the computer), napping and into bed by early evening. It's a bummer, but whatdya gonna do. Needless to say, lengthy blogging time will come later.

Have any of you had an illness or setback while traveling or during a big event? Found that you had to readjust expectations? Find new ways to trust and pray and be thankful? It seems I've had basket-full of health challenges and issues these past couple of years and it can get me down when they flare. But it also pushes me to pray more for others ... because I get so sick of thinking about how I feel, blah, blah, blah. And always ... this is a good and rich thing.

Happy springtime.

Light is sweet; how pleasant to see a new day dawning. 

Ecclesiastes 11:7

Joyeuses Pâques and Happy Celebrations

 Easter Sunday is one of my favorite holidays. The celebration of Christ's resurrection, the newness and possibility of spring, the chance to celebrate and be together as family.

And while our holiday experiences as expats are different than when we are "at home" and have put some well-loved traditions on hold, we continue to find joy and unexpected blessings in our time here. Like finding this easter basket delivered in the wee morning hours by the darling and generous Madame S.

And even though the children are getting older by the minute ... there was no question that they were up for a pre-church chocolate hunt. (Did you know that bells bring the chocolate instead of bunnies in France? I am told that it is because the bells are silent from Good Friday until Easter Sunday, when they ring to announce "He is Risen!" Naturally, in celebration ... the les cloches must bring chocolate!)

 Does one ever really out-grow hunts? There is an undeniable thrill at finding and racing and scavenging!

And, ahem. Can we just for a moment comment on how sharp Pops looks!

This year, the bells passed over La Cressonnière and left chocolate Euros! Fancy that!

Another Easter to rejoice in ... and marvel at how the kids have grown!

Joyeuses Pâques and Happy Easter!

 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! 

According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope 

through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 

to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading,

kept in heaven for you .

1 Peter 1:3-4

So be truly glad ...

I used to think I wasn't a fan of change. But then, so many of my best decisions have elicited massive life alterations.

Perhaps I actually like change. I do like new perspectives and experiences. What I seem to be realizing is that change isn't really the issue ... it's the uncertainty that precedes it.

I perceive uncertainty as a loss of security. A free-fall of expectations and understanding. A crooked finger beckoning one through a worm-hole of disaster ...

These last months we've been tetering on the edge of more uncertainty. Despite a track-record of God's abundant provision, I found myself swirling in mental firestorm of worst-case scenarios. And to fan the flames, there have been multiple needs that have arisen requiring me to ask for help. As in, I literally cannot do this on my own. It's an uncomfortable sensation, especially when you know that you can't level the scales because you have virtually nothing to offer in return ... but more neediness.

 However. This last week, I received two meaty "you can do it" emails from friends, a care-package in the mail, an extravagant offer for assistance "on the ground," and invitation for dinner that was generous beyond description. People reaching out to meet my needs and serve our family without asking for anything in return.

And I said "yes, please" to all of them.

That dinner? At the home of some friends that we've only known since just before Christmas, but their continual kindness and generosity has put our friendship on the fast-track. They are intelligent, fascinating, curious and exceedingly intuitive about what would bless us.

 After they offered a lovely aperitif, we were introduced to "La Raclette." Using a little grill with a broiler on the underside, you toast up slices of raclette cheese in a little dish and then proceed to accompany it with all measures of coldcuts, dried meats, potatoes, and delights such as an endive salad made with pear, walnuts, and roquefort cheese. 

 Oh. And I haven't a photo, but there was a dish called a pissaladière, which is basically a savory tart on homemade bread dough with a topping of onions sauteed in butter and olive oil and anchovies, and after cutting into squares, topped with a Greek black olive. I so get the culinary use of anchovies now. It took the flavors to a whole new level.

I considered sliding the plateful into my purse.

And then there was dessert. An un-pictured apple crumble to honor our American roots (but was frankly better than a lot of crumble I've had in the States) and also the above snapshot of caneléis.  Just ever-so-slightly-custardy in the center and the exterior, a crown of caramelized delight.

I definitely should have brought a bigger purse.

 Afterwards we enjoyed the sun-breaks for a walk in the nearby park and more conversation. The men discussed all things WWII and global politics with great delight and the ladies and kids delighted in our own version of pleasant conversation and discovery. (My friend laughed when she discovered Jane's braids were "French braids." They call them "African braids." Say what?!)

I am constantly fighting against the rage of uncertainty. And change, even good change, is rarely easy. And it is still so uncomfortable being the "needy people."

But all of these elements are bringing us experiences and challenges ... and people ... that leave me feeling incredibly honored.

Being needy, requires uncertain circumstances ... and opens up skyline of possibilities to be blessed in ways otherwise fully unachievable. And in that, the hope of being used, somehow, in spite of my deficiencies, as a blessing in return.

So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, 

even though you must endure many trials for a little while. 

I Peter 1:6

A Trip Into Paris and Expat Thoughts

Pops and Me on top of the Arc de Triumph

Before Christmas, we took a family train trip into Paris. In less than two hours, we are in the middle of one of the grandest cities in the world. It is a privilege that makes me marvel. I utterly adore being able to be in such an environment. 

And it is important to remind myself (ourselves) of elements such as these. Because much of our days are just straight-up challenging. And as a mother, challenging not just for myself ... but worrying over all that my kids are experiencing. Are the "Paris" moments enough? Enough to make all of the daily difficulties worth it? 

Lucette and Jane, with the Eiffel Tower in the distance

Before we even left the States, Pops and I did some reading up on the stages of Expatriate-hood. It's a very real thing for people transplanted out of their native environment and into a new. Language, culture, geography, food, shopping, driving, social communication, homesickness ... all of these things come into play. But like many things in life, knowing it and experiencing it are different beasts.

We've now been here for 5 months. We get lots of well-meaning questions like, "So, are you guys fluent yet?" Oh mercy. So. Far. From It. It's almost demoralizing how far from fluent we are. Even though we can step back and see marked progress from when we arrived, it's just still super difficult.

In front of the Hôtel De Ville, deciding to land-skate, because the lines were too long for ice-skating. 

Now, can I interject to say ... we're okay! Life isn't falling apart at the seams and we aren't caressing maps of the States and weeping to the melancholy sounds of Kenny G. But. It has to be okay for it to still be hard for us. We aren't acclimated yet, a "groove" doesn't exist, we are confused all the time ... and we are choosing, as a family, to be good with that. 

I recently saw a graph that marked out the stages of expatriate adjustment. We've barely arrived, so I don't have full perspective, but I'd say it seems pretty realistic. In a nutshell, there is the Honeymoon Stage (2-6 weeks ... weeks!), Culture Shock (6-8 months), Gradual Adjustment (1-2 years), Competency (2-4 years), and "Mastery" (5-7 years). 

Uh, yeah. We are 1.5 - 3.5 years away from Competency. Not mastery, competency.

 Lucette and Peter noticing something surprising (I can't even remember what!)

However, somehow seeing these statistics is oddly comforting. It would be strange for us to be any more comfortable or competent than we are. We are just a goofy American family fumbling through each day, happy to enjoy the beauty and magic of living here and trusting in the Lord to get us through all of the small, yet Herculean tasks of life ... like talking to the plumber when there is water leaking from the ceiling ... or figuring out French light bulbs ... or asking the butcher for a paper towel because the ham hock he gave you is dripping blood on your sleeve but he has to politely correct your grammar, have you repeat, and then go get a paper towel for you.

In front of Notre Dame de Paris

When we first got here, everything was so new and fascinating, it balanced out the smack-in-the-face of the language difficulties. It leveled out the feeling of having an invisible American flag above our heads, announcing the fact that we were weird and didn't fit in.

And I laugh now at thinking I spoke French "a little bit" when we moved here. Uh, no. I think I can speak about 10 times better now, and if someone asked me today if I speak French, I would chuckle and say, "hardly at all!" And those French school lunches! So exciting at first, and now it is balanced out with the mandatory "goopy cheese" and extreme suspicion over any dish with the word "tête" ("head") in it.

But we are also finding ourselves to be assimilating ever so slowly. When we first arrived, Pops announced, "I will not be wearing scarves." Um, yeah. He wears one every. single. day. I think he got three for Christmas.

In the above photo, Pops is in front of a Metro sign. Though he himself was, perhaps, in a bedraggled, tourist state, he declared he had found his "style icon." His style icon? Is this my husband talking? The man who thinks black athletic socks can take you from work, soccer, poolside, and then to a wedding?

Peter and Pops on the Pont de l'Archeveche, the "Love Lock Bridge" 

The children are navigating school and learning what to reserve their energy for and what to just not care about. We are learning how to rely on each other in new ways and support each other's deficiencies. A favorite meal time conversation starter is, "What embarrassing thing happened to you today?"

Sometimes I feel guilty about complaining or trotting out all of my "you won't believe this" stories. It is not lost on me that I am living the life I have literally dreamed of. Sure it's hard, but shoot. You're living in a farmhouse in France! How hard can it be? Get over it! 

But even when life is just as you would have it ... it can still be kick-in-the-bum hard, no?

Jane and I take a "selfie" while waiting for lunch

Yet here we are. In all it's glory. Indulge me, if you would, if sometimes I feel the need to unload. It's important for me to chronicle the joys and blessings, yet some of the beastly bits seem important too. Someday, we'll look back on this time and like stones of remembrance, recall all that God has done for us ... in all of our circumstances.

Reflections and a New Year

 We are enjoying the last vestiges of the holiday season. The tree (which came with the rootball!), decorated with dried orange slices, holly, and paper snowflakes, has been de-potted and is now living a happy life down by the creek.

These past weeks we have spent a lot of time in front of the fire together, staying warm and just "being." We've also used the time to make some touristy day-trips that we've been meaning to accomplish. Christmas sights in Paris, D-day Beaches, and even Versailles (brrr ... 2 hours waiting in 30+ degree temps! It was a bonding experience).

We've also been enjoying our gifts from each other. We kept it pretty simple this year, focusing on experiences and less stuff. As mentioned before, it's a practical approach, but also beautiful in its simplicity.

One gift I was rather excited to find was a print of the city we live in. Right in front of the church, our town still holds outdoor markets every Tuesday and Friday, so similar to as that depicted. I think our family will enjoy looking at this in years to come.

School is starting up on Monday, and the children are less than excited. I feel the same! It's hard to let go of these simple, quiet times together in exchange for days of challenge. But even though I want to fret and trouble over each little bump on our paths ... my desire for the new year is to worry less, pray more. And because I know how sick of my own problems I can become ... praying more for others in my time of anxieties. Gosh, it's good to not deal with myself all the time!

Have a blessed New Year and Bonne Année!

"... let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus." 

Hebrews 12:2

Lucette Makes Friends for Us All

I am so proud of Lucette and the friendship choices she has been making here. Such a worry and prayer of mine! She has two close girlfriends that are kind, gentle, and so very patient with the language gap. I think this says a lot about their character!

This last weekend we went to meet the family of one of the girls. Such a dear, friendly family and ... the parents speak fantastic English! I couldn't believe how utterly easy the communication was and how comfortable I felt.


Yesterday, the mom swung by La Cressonnière with a quick delivery (nobody swings by, it's a total effort to drive out here and always thoughtful when someone does!). She brought a pumpkin, a head of lettuce and some eggs, all freshly gathered from her farm and garden. I was all fluttery with joy.

Gorgeous and privileged as it is, sometimes the days and trials of life here are very wearying. But then I stop and realize we are becoming established and continuing to make connections. It really feels like extravagant provision.

You gave abundant showers, O God; you refreshed your weary inheritance.

Psalm 68:9

Church, Quiche, and Learning to Share

Did you know that church people and food go hand in hand? They do. What's more, church people are often very good gardeners ... and if they have been reading their Bible, they are generous too! (Wink, wink!)

We have found a lovely little church to attend full of British expats. It's about a 45 minute drive from La Cressonnière, but it's no bother. Meeting every other Sunday in a little church rebuilt after the war, a small cluster of us meet together for worship, fellowship and to share in a message together. Very simple, casual, low-pressure, welcoming. And they have gardens. 

We were last gifted with a bounty of cherry tomatoes (picked that morning!) that were the sweetest, brightest flavored tomatoes I've ever tasted. We ate some plain but we also whipped up a quiche for an afternoon brunch.

And when I say whipped up, I do mean it. The groceries here sell pre-made crusts here that are all buttery and flaky goodness. There are about 20 different options that I am still discerning the difference between, but so far ... all a 2 euros well spent! 

Place the crust in the pan, beat some eggs, crème crue (oh, how will I ever live without you again??), salt, pepper, and whatever else you might have. In our case, some fresh spinach, a bit of goat cheese, and church tomatoes! Place in crust, bake, eat.

It was so good, I can't even say. If you come for a visit, I'll make some for you. But, I better read my Bible first, because lately ... I haven't been big on sharing.

First Day, Les Grands Enfants

Today, Peter and Lucette had la rentré scolaire in collegè (middle school). First days are always big. This seemed behemoth. And to be honest ... it was. It was overwhelming and confusing, but they did it. I am really proud of them.

And. I am really glad they have each other.



To be honest, I am rather emotional today. Prayer has been my occupation and thoughts to share are escaping me.

Somedays, some events, some seasons ... sometimes it's just like that.


I love these two so dearly. Somedays I feel like my heart is on the outside of my body ...

In quietness and confidence shall be your strength. Isaiah 30:15