Also a God of the Valleys

I have only been here about three weeks, but it feels like I have been here a lifetime! Which is why this post is going to be a bit longer than I will normally make them as I have so much to say about what God is doing.

The only copy of C.S. Lewis’ “Space Trilogy” at the English Library is the entire trilogy in one book. It definitely turns some heads when I whip that brick out of my backpack on the metro. I picked this book knowing I wanted a bit of that Lewis wit and wisdom on my commutes. What I didn’t realize was how pertinent my journey is to the protagonist: the character is also in a new place, trying to communicate in a new language, drudging through the valleys too. Reading this parallel journey reminds me of my humanity, but also of my spirituality — this deep and questioning curiosity that all of us have, that we all know deep down we are made for a high calling, a high servitude.

And oh how cathartic it has been to have a literary friend join me on the adventure. And I say “adventure” because it indicates that the goal is in the process, not a means to an end. This word has connotations to risk and chance, as well as to beauty and amelioration, especially when you ask God to lead. I believe that God loves asking his children to go on adventures because He knows that their hearts will be drawn closer to His through trials and through gaining a broader understanding of His nations and His world. I picture this sweet father figure, encouraging and cheering me on in the discomfort, and smiling with joy when I am excited. I have stepped into a grand place of faith where my trust can be expanded. Trust can be expanded anywhere, an adventure just so happens to be a great place as any hint of a next step is hidden until the final moment.

This adventure takes great humility. When I think of the great cloud of witnesses supporting me, I am brought to such a sweet place of gratitude as I picture the many hands from afar that surrender my ways to our God daily. It is humbling to be in such a place as I wrestle with my own humanity and failures, coming to terms with the fact that I will continue to fail, and continue to fail those I love, but I serve a God who never fails. Even in this place of great faith in the face of a multitude of frustrations, disappointments, and fears, I still find pride creeping in at the slightest hint that I did something myself, or when I am afraid and feel the need to puff up to protect myself.

Reading in Luxembourg Garden

It is bureaucratically very difficult to be American here. Right when you feel like you have taken the correct steps to open a bank account or even a library card… oh wait, you don’t have that random piece of identification? C’est pas possible. I went to a showing for an apartment the other day, and there were 20+ people there. You could feel the competition shivering through the tiny Parisian hallway as we waited to see the place. But when I see another cathedral or walk past a museum and take a mental note I want to come back, I exhale relief. I am here as evidence of a good and gracious God, his light in the midst of a grumbling and judgmental people. It has been a mirror on my own heart as I too can struggle with grumbling and being judgmental.

This part of the adventure is a constant reminder that I am not here for me. Or rather, I am constantly needing to remind myself that I am not here for me when I struggle with not being excited to be here. I have to remind myself that I am still in a sort of"survival" mindset, and that not being excited is ok as I step forward and continue putting pieces together. Not that life must be a drudgery, I know God loves beauty and joy, for it is so evident in the world he has made. But it has been draining seeing a different Paris this time around — the underbelly of judgement and complaining and bureaucracy. I did not remember this last time as I, overall, interacted with such sweet people that it was honestly quite magical! And I am sad that it feels like the “magic” isn’t really here this time. But, I know that feeling isn't true. If we are speaking about the "magic" of which Lewis writes, then there still is "magic" here, for God has left imprints of himself and his mysteries here on the earth.

My mom brought attention to the fact that in 1 Kings, the Arameans thought that, "...the LORD is a god of the hills and not a god of the valleys..." and because of this, God would give the Arameans over to the Israelites so that "... you will know that I am the LORD." (1 Kings 20:22). He is in the valleys too, in fact, He is the God of the valleys just as much as the hills.

For now, I need to stay focused on the next day, the next hour, in order to not get overwhelmed with the many things still up in the air (this is when I remind myself, “but hey, it wouldn’t be an adventure if you came to Paris and went straight to the Ritz!”). And while being thankful for the past and praying for the future are qualities of our walk with Christ, His presence is in the now. And that is really truly all I have. It is so peaceful being with my King, on the metro, on the streets, in the transitions. He is my sweet friend here. And I am so thankful for the discomfort that is pushing me towards a deeper knowledge of Jesus. This period of transient, halfway packed bags, is where God’s people can be prepared to step forward into the harvest. It is, much like the life of Abraham or the pilgrimages of the 12th century, a tangible, physical reminder that this earth is not our home. Our bags are always packed, we are always ready to return to our King and Maker! He calls us to the in between. In the same breath, I really am looking forward to having a place I can call home, where I can rest and be restored, ready to step out faithfully. For while I am grateful for this time, and in a weird way I don’t want it to end because I rest so sweetly with Jesus, my body is exhausted.

But little by little, life gets put together. I am learning to be patient and enjoy the in between, or at least try to. One day, its the metro card, the next, phone service, then, groceries. And the reality is, I remind myself, that one day I will be looking back at these pictures I’m taking right now wishing I was on a sunny Paris street again.

Life really is just bits and pieces of building blocks, adding together an existence. It is getting up faithfully each morning, even though the day before was so frustrating. I right now have the opportunity to let God lay down building blocks of faith I know I will stand on in the future.

One of the Classrooms

Oh dear I have barely shared the logistics and practicalities of my current situation! Though I do love sharing what God is doing. I am still living in the 19th arrondissement with other girls who are doing the same teaching program, but in November there is a girl moving into the room I have now. Looking for housing is like a second job — calling, emailing, and I’ve finally resorted to just walking into agencies who I've seen listed apartments online. I work at two schools in Les Plessis-Bouchard, one on Tuesday and one on Thursday. I help in a total of 18 classes, so I am definitely adjusting to working with 18 different teachers with 30 kids in each class. I am babysitting the other days of the week for this sweet family that God brought into my life. I am attending Hillsong Paris church, and starting to get involved with their worship and tech team.

Ok, ONE more thing, for my literary friends: quotes I've found relevant/have stood out to me this time reading "The Space Trilogy".

"A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hman, as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing... What you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure. When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then - that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it. You say you have poets in your world. Do they not teach you this?" page 67

"It was necessary, and the necessary was always possible."

"This resolution seemed to him all the more certainly right because he had the deepest misgivings about that journey. (Here the first change of mood tried to raise its head. He thrust it down.)"

"That is true, Oyarsa. Bent creatures are full of fears." page 112

"One never can see, or not till long after-wards, why any one was selected for any job. And when one does it is usually some reason that leaves no room for vanity. Certainly, it is never for what the man himself would have regarded as his chief qualifications." page 165

"This itch to have things over again, as if life were a film that could be unrolled twice or even made to work backwards ... was it possibly the root of all evil? No: of course the love of money was called that. But money itself - perhaps one valued it chiefly as a defense against chance, a security for being able to have things over again, a means of arresting the unrolling of the film." page 187