Home Sweet Home ... plus Cheryl vs. the Loch Ness Monster

Wow. I'm sitting in a living room, in a house, in Courtice, in Canada. I didn't have to make my own meals today, I got to drive a car, and didn't have to pay for the public bathrooms. It is so nice to be back in Canada, and yet so strange. Paris, and really all of Europe in general, is now a part of me, even if it's only in memories, pictures and journal entries. A part of me will always be that baguette-eating, Notre Dame visiting, French-speaking, world-traveling student. There were many mixed emotions as Justine, Shailene and I waited in the Paris airport overnight, endured a long layover in London and passed the time watching movies on the 8 hours flight to Toronto. (The fact that I didn't sleep for 46 hours might have played a part in that.) We were excited to see our families and friends and be taken care of for a little while, but we were sad to leave the place that we've been calling home for the past 4.5 months. It was a strange, overwhelming feeling to walk out of the plane, hear Canadian accents, and eagerly search the crowd of people to find our parents. And so now we are home and dealing with a bit of reverse culture shock, but all in all, it's a good feeling.

To summarize the last couple weeks that I had on the other side of the ocean: Exams were about the easiest thing that I have ever written! I feel like this was almost a gimme semester - the worst thing I had to do this semester was write a 3 page essay. All of our conference exams were only out of 20 marks, so 100% of the grade for those courses rested on 20 marks. And yet, I feel pretty confident about it! Our grammar exam was huge and took a full 3 hours to write, but it wasn't as bad as I was expecting (though my grade might tell me otherwise).

After exams were done, I had a few days to visit all of my favourite places in Paris one last time before flying out to the UK for my 10 day vacation. My favourite place in all of Paris is Notre Dame, so I climbed the stairs of her towers, walked inside of the cathedral one more time, and spent some time in my usual spot in the garden across the street, just gazing at the gothic beauty. On May 31, I packed up all of my stuff, handed in my key to my residence, and walked to the metro stop for the last time.

But I couldn't be sad long, for I was going to Scotland - a place that I've wanted to visit since I was about 9 years old. I flew into Edinburgh first and spent hours in the magnificent castle fortress, climbed the ancient volcano to look over Arthur's Seat (another volcano), sit on the green grass and journal in the open air, and ate more scones than I probably should have. I loved Scotland! I had no rain that week, an odd phenomenon for that area, and I loved gazing over the glens and lochs from the hills and from the castle.

Next stop was Inverness in the highlands. Okay - so there's this tiny little town named Drumnadrochit that I've wanted to visit for years after hearing about it in a movie (not mentioning it was a Scooby-doo movie...). It's only about 25-30 minutes from Inverness, so I took the bus out of the town and up the River Ness to the famous Loch Ness and into this tiny town. Being on Loch Ness and dipping my feet in its cold, deep waters was amazing! I walked through Drumnadrochit, visited the Loch Ness Centre and learned all about legendary Nessie, and then walked the 2 ish miles out to Urquhart Castle, an old ruin overlooking the loch. The walk was one of the best parts of Europe, I think. I was surrounded by grazing sheep, broom bushes and green trees and hills, and Loch Ness lay constantly before me. God was my traveling buddy that week, and I got to spend some time talking to Him and thanking Him for the incredible journey that I was on (and have been on in general over these few months).

Upon coming to Urquhart Castle, my camera was snapping non-stop. The castle was so old and in so many ruins and had so many amazing views and photo opportunities. I kept scanning the loch for Nessie, but she happened to evade my sight that day. As much as it's only a legend, it was fun to imagine an ancient sea monster gliding through those waters. I had planned on going swimming in Loch Ness, just to say that I'd been swimming in the same loch as Nessie, but it was freezing cold and there was really no place to swim, so I just waded in and let my feet go numb. It was difficult to leave that place and take the bus back to Inverness, since I had wanted to see it for so long and I was finally there. But the next day turned out to be just as lovely and I discovered an oddly-shaped log at the end of the island in River Ness, completely hidden from human view, and I sat there for a good 3 hours, listening to the rapids, watching the birds darting back and forth over the water, and journaling whatever decided to come into my head. It gave me time to sing praises and pray out loud and just be completely alone - something that is impossible to do in Paris (where you are constantly surrounded by people and man-made noise if you're outside). It was a beautiful day in every sense of the word.

My final stop was Belfast in Northern Ireland. I spent ages in the Titanic museum, walking where it was built and where it was last docked and taking my time through the museum itself. But other than that, I didn't find a whole ton of things to do in Belfast city, so I took a tour bus up to the northern coast - to Giant's Causeway. Google image it. It's like nothing you've ever seen before! There are pillars of rocks all over the place, looking like they've been purposefully placed and causing the landscape to be unique and even more beautiful. We stopped off at various places along the coastal road on the way up there, including a couple castles and the Carrick-a-rede rope bridge - which was awesome to walk over even though it was super foggy, but that almost added to the beauty of the cliffs and seas there. Driving through the Irish hills was just sheer beauty and I don't understand how anyone can look at creation and not believe that it was carefully formed by a loving, involved God.

And so here we are, at the end of my European travels. It's been a challenge, a blessing, a learning curve, an eye-opener and really, just overwhelming. I can't really describe how it feels, what the best thing was, how the journey was or made me feel. Europe is a part of me now, or rather I'm a part of Europe. Canada is a beautiful country, has a beautiful name and has the most difficult flag of life to draw, but it's home. Europe, specifically Paris, is a beautiful continent with so much variety and deep history to discover. It's name causes an overflow of mixed emotions - ranging from extreme dislike to absolute love. The red, white and blue of France is more familiar to my eye right now than the Canadian flag. I'll miss the busy metros, the boulangeries, picnics at the Eiffel Tower and walks past Notre Dame.

But now I'm in my home and native land and Paris remains on the other side de l'océan.

What happens when you have to wait

So we're in the middle of exams, but that's not really worth mentioning - save the fact that they are the easiest exams of life and I can't believe that I spent an entire semester in France just to take such short exams. (The French only have exams out of 20 marks.)

Yesterday a few friends arrived from Canada and Sara was going to go meet them under the Eiffel Tower and I was going to meet them afterwards at Notre Dame. I got a text from Sara saying that they still hadn't shown up (like 30-45 minutes after they should have) and so I headed out to keep her company at the Eiffel Tower. Of course, chance would have it that as soon as I got there, I got another text saying that they were on their way to Notre Dame. So I hopped on the RER and got to Notre Dame before they did.

I waited. And people-watched. And waited. And pigeon-watched. And waited. I make it sound like I was there longer than I was, but I waited about 30 minutes and got one more text saying that they were going to be late. So I waited and heard the super annoying sounds of an ambulance siren. You think it's bad in Canada? Try those in Europe! You expect it to fade after a few seconds, but this siren got louder and louder and the ambulance pulled up in front of Notre Dame where I was waiting. Three men got out and cut in front of the super long line of people waiting to go into Notre Dame and the next thing I know, the gates are closed and everyone inside of Notre Dame is evacuated. Guess we were going to go into Notre Dame that day after all. I finally spotted the girls and it was wonderful to see Stephie again after so long! I sadly only got to spend a half hour with them before running up the street to my phonetics class.

I went to Shailene and Cheryl's place after to study some more and while I was there we got a phone call from Erin. Someone shot themselves in Notre Dame. .................................. It was one of those frozen moments. If the girls had been on time today, we would have been in there when it happened. Who knows what we might have seen and experienced. No one else was killed, but the horrid thought remains. We read up on it online and learned that a 78 year old man (who was against homosexual marriage - a huge debate that has been a news item and street demonstration topic all semester) had gone into Notre Dame, laid a note on the altar and took his life. They still had mass yesterday evening, not 4 hours after this happened.

So what do we do with this? My gut reaction was to pray. God, thank You that the girls were late and we didn't have to see or hear this happen. God, this sucks. People commit suicide in Paris everyday - on the metro, at the Eiffel Tower.. - and the news doesn't even make the slightest mention about it. God, Your world and Your people are broken and it has somehow become so normal that people don't bat an eye at a new story. God, how on earth are we supposed to help, make a difference, change it?! God, Your heart must be so broken. God, please show us how to go forward. And please, God, please don't ever let these stories just become another story that we hear about, say "That's horrible," and then move on. If we truly want You to break our hearts for what breaks Yours, then please show us what to do about all this, or at least, Holy Spirit, what to pray about. And God, thank You for Your timing and for making us wait.

In Jesus' Name,
Amen.

Carpe Diem..and something about exams

We're down to less than 2 weeks left in Paris. That's really odd to write and even odder to think about. When I think back on this semester and all that's happened, it's a whirl of emotions. There have been some really, really challenging days and weeks here. There have been some incredible weekends and weeks of vacationing and seeing more of our Father's world. There have been days when I felt like throwing in the towel completely and days when I felt like I couldn't make any mistakes. There have been periods of time when I couldn't focus long enough to spend more than 60 seconds in prayer and there have been times of dancing around my empty room in worship. Times when God seemed silent and times when I could hear Him as if He were physically beside me. There have been moments of deep longing to go home and moments when I was actually able to fully grab hold of the experience that I'm living. And now that we have only 2 weeks left here, I'm scared that I'm going to go back to Canada (all excited to see everyone and have things to back to normal) and then wish that I was still in Europe. How does one really bottle up a moment and not pass up the opportunity of the present?

The catch phrase this past week has been 'carpe diem' (seize the day - for those of you who have never watched 'Dead Poet's Society'). Why not go out to the Dutch store and buy a bunch of goodies? Why not get some face masks and wear them around like crazy-looking clowns? Why not do this, or that, and don't forget that other thing! Sara, Rachel and I were walking back from the metro last night after one of our glorious soirées chez Cheryl and Shailene with all of the girls. It was one of those perfect nights - it was warm with very little breeze, the crescent moon was shining full force, the sky was clear, the city of lights was ablaze, the streets were quiet and we could just barely pick out some stars amidst the light pollution (or was it an airplane, or a bird, or a helicopter? ;) ). We stood in the middle of our street and threw back our heads to look at one of the clearest night skies we've seen all semester. We thought of laying in the street like they do in 'The Notebook' and just enjoying it. There's something magical about times like that, when one of the busiest cities of life just stops for a moment and breathes ever so softly, when you can slow down for a moment and really appreciate the city that's around you, when you can take a deep breath and not smell cigarette smoke or sewers, when you can close your eyes and imagine all of the countless stars up there that you just can't quite see. How do you bottle up a moment like that? How do you make that last?

And then there's reality. Exams start next week. We're not overly worried about them, and yet we have no clue what to study for most of it. The French only make tests and exams out of 20, so our entire mark for our conference classes rests on 20 points. That's a little nerve-wracking, and yet it can't be that hard, right? We have a long weekend as well this weekend (not due to lovely Queen Victoria, but due to it being Pentecost Monday) and we've planning out study sessions. It's sunny outside right now and the park might just be the best place to study today..provided I don't get distracted. Because it's hard not to get distracted when you only have a fortnight to enjoy this place we've been calling home for the past 4 months.

Traveling the world

There's an excerpt from a work by Montesquieu that we studied in class this semester about a Persian who travels the world and ends up in Paris. He says that even though they occupy the same green Earth as the Persians, they are completely different people. I've realized in all of my traveling (especially the 4 different places that I was these past two weeks,) that the world really is huge and the way that we live is all so incredibly different.

You've already heard a bit about our trip to Rome and Venice, so here's the brief rundown of the Cheryls taking on Dublin and London!

Dublin was by far the best trip to date (in my opinion)! Okay, so Dublin itself is cool, but not where I'd like to spend the rest of my life, type deal. Our first day there, we wandered around the city..which really isn't that big. We met some Anglican ministers from Newfoundland in front of Christ Church Cathedral and talked with them for a bit. We thought that they were Irishmen at first since their accent was so thick! Cheryl and I were both on a budget, so we didn't pay to do much in Ireland, so that meant that we enjoyed the cathedrals from the outside, which was okay since there were beautiful gardens everywhere and gorgeous smelling tulips that we stopped to smell! We sat in the gardens outside of St. Patrick's Cathedral for quite some time, enjoying the sun when it peeped out, Cheryl whipped through two books and I made sure my diary was up to date. It was nice and relaxing. We then wandered through St. Stephen's Green and saw the bridge fom the movie "Leap Year", that we had watched before we left, and we meandered down Grafton Street - the busy, touristy, street performer street.

I must tell you of a highlight of the day. Upon leaving St. Patrick's Cathedral and pondering as to what we were to eat for lunch, we came across one of the best signs in the world: a supermarket sold products from TIM HORTONS!!!! We both became super excited and, with goofy smiles on our drooling faces, we basically ran into the supermarket and to the counter at the back where we found a pot of gold containing Tim Hortons muffins, donuts, coffee and hot chocolate. Okay, so it wasn't the best selection possible, nor did it really taste as "Always Fresh" as yours did this morning, but it was heavenly nonetheless.

The next day was the best day so far in Europe!! Cheryl and I hopped on a mini tour bus (14-16 seater) and, with our bus driver and guide Danny, took off for the Irish hills! There is so much to say about this day that it is impossible to explain it all here, and the views that we saw were so spectacular that no camera could ever truly capture what we saw, nor what we felt as we saw it. I could have spent entire weeks at some of the lakes that we saw or in some of the mountains that we drove through. Some highlights of the day: For Braveheart fans - yes, most of the movie was filmed in Scotland, but we saw a huge valley where some of it was filmed in Ireland. For P.S. I Love You fans - we stopped off at the bridge where Gerard Butler and Hilary Swank walk!! We took loads of pictures and tried to remember everything from that scene and had to explain the significance of that place to some German guys who had never heard of the movie (what a shame..). So basically - it was an incredible day, full of God's incredible, breath-taking creation that I wish I could have spent more time in.

Our next stop was London, England. Travel note for those who want to go there: never fly into Gatwick Airport. It's super far from the city and when it's late at night and you have no clue where to go, getting to your hostel in the northwest end of the city (sketchville, really) is difficult and annoying. But after a train, the tube (metro) and a taxi, we finally made it. There, No. 8 Hostel took like all of our money (legit - towel RENTALS were 3.50 English pounds!), and we finally went up to our room. We shared a room with a French girl and an English girl, which was actually super fun.

In England, it rains. So of course it would rain our first day there. But at least it doesn't rain for long/constantly/not a down pour. We saw the Tower Bridge and sang "London Bridge is Falling Down" and "London's Burning", cuz what else do you do when you're within sight of it? We saw the Tower of London, which I returned to later (there having a great tour with a Yaoman Warder and saw the Crown Jewels - including the biggest diamond in the world, which is over 500 carets and I was told not to compare my "tiny" diamonds on my hand to it). Cheryl and I visited Shakespeare's Globe, where his plays took place, but we couldn't go in since there was a play going on at that time. We also went on the London Eye that night. That was a lot of fun - seeing London from high up and spotting all the major landmarks. Highlight from that day: there was a 4D experience thing at the London Eye that our ticket included, so we went and the people next to us have probably never seen anything in 3D, much less 4D, since they got super excited and exclaimed at everything that popped out of the screen. Cheryl and I enjoyed their reactions almost better than the movie.

The next day was full: we had perfect spots to watch the changing of the guard in front of Buckingham Palace, and though I kept hoping that the queen would stick her head out the window and say hi, she never did. We took our time going through Westminster Abbey, seeing the graves of tons of famous people (many that I didn't even know were buried there), seeing where the monarchs are coronated and where Will and Kate got married and listening to tons of interesting history. We snapped some pictures of Big Ben, which was really cool to see, and sat in St. James' Park for awhile, seeing Canadian geese, the first squirrels we've seen since leaving Canada, and feeding pigeons out of our hands. Then we headed off to Trafalgar Square. Neither one of us really knew what to expect there, but we weren't prepared for what we did see. There was basketball stuff everywhere! Some international juniors thing was there and we so watched a basketball game! Then they invited people in the crowd to come onto the court and play Bump. So what do the Cheryls do? They go and play Bump in the middle of Trafalgar Square! That was something that neither one of us will forget anytime soon, I'm sure! We won't mention that Cheryl was bumped out by a kid... but he ended up winning the whole thing, so that makes it not so embarrassing ;)

The bus through the Chunnel wasn't as exciting as you'd think, but hey - I can say that I've been through the Chunnel! And that, my dear friends, was the end of our two week vacation. Now we're into exams - one last full week of classes this week, exams and review classes next week, and then our big, final grammar and oral exams. So close to being done, and yet so much still to do ... like that Art History paper that I'm supposed to be doing right now...

150 Flavours of Gelato

Vacation is awesome! You get to speak English, see different countries, try new foods and take LOADS of pictures. We have two weeks of vacation, which we're in the middle of right now. Cheryl, Sara and I spent this past week in Italy - first going to Rome and then to Venice. Starting today, the Cheryls are heading out to Dublin and then to London.

Italy wasn't quite what I was expecting, maybe just cuz we didn't have the sun that I was hoping for everyday. The first night of Rome we went to the Trevi Fountain. It was super crowded, but we fought our way to the edge of the water and each took out two coins. You know the tradition - throw two coins into the Trevi Fountain and you'll return to Rome and a wish will come true. Who knows if either one of those will actually happen, but I love traditions like that. We ate real Italian pizza that night and to be honest, it didn't taste as amazingly superior to Canadian pizza as I was expecting. I guess after working at a pizza place you become a pizza snob. But it was still delicious!

The next day was full of touring all the old ruins. First stop was the Colosseum. We waited in the mob of people (they really didn't have much of a line there) for about an hour or so and then walked out into the ancient arena. Our first thought: where's the floor? We had expected to see a floor covered in sand and whatnot as they always show in the movies. Instead we saw walls of stone that gave the impression of a maze. The brief moment of wondering if we were in the right place or if they had to fight amongst the mazes of stones was later turned to a face palm moment when we took the tour. The Colosseum was built after Nero died, so the thing is ancient and has been through so much (obviously) so the wooden floor that used to be there is no longer there and all that remains in the centre of the arena is the cells that were under the arena floor that caged the animals and prisoners. It was incredible to see and learn of how much of the Colosseum is actually not there anymore. You would never guess by looking at it that it was once covered in marble and had stores around the exterior and seating to fit 60 000 people. Guess that's what happens to ancient ruins. Also, we learned that there is no real record that the Christians were ever executed there. So now I don't know what to think about it..

Next we climbed up the hill to Palatino, where Rome began. It was really cool to see palm trees next to evergreens and normal trees, to see the old, stone walls, to try and imagine what it looked like in the powerful, ancient world, and to try and figure out what all the rooms were used for in Augustus' house. We passed by the Roman Forum too (where all the government and justice courts and all that important stuff took place) and snapped some more pictures.

We spent the rest of the day people-watching at the Pantheon (which we went in a couple days after). This became almost a daily routine for us. We had been told of a store that sold 150 flavours of gelato not far from the Pantheon. It was like walking into ice cream heaven! So many choices! Who knew that you could make gelato out of Kit Kat, or Lindor, or meringues?! We would each get two different flavours in a bowl and sit by the water fountain in front of the Pantheon, slowly enjoying the cold goodness with a little spoon that looks like a shovel. Also, I had never eaten gelato until Italy. You can find it in Paris too, but I figured that I'd wait to enjoy it in the place that's famous for it.

So that was Rome. We went to Venice next. We stayed in a hotel (cuz it was cheaper than a hostel!) and that was wonderful and translated into dance parties, 20 questions and eating Nutella in the most comfort I've been in while in Europe. We spent a full day wandering around Venice, seeing the gondolas, wondering at the point of all the crazy mask stores, climbing bridges over tons of canals, and sitting on a dock overlooking the Mediterranean and tanning. None of us really knew what all there was to do in Venice, so we just enjoyed it and got lost and ate some more gelato. That's the life! We spent almost 2 hours sitting under a bridge the next day singing worship songs. I think that was one of my favourite parts of the Italy trip. I had prayed that morning that I would see God and  hear Him in all things that day, and boy did He show up! In ways that I wasn't expecting even (which is typically how He likes to work, I think). It was a calming, powerful time to sing song after song in praise to our God. Words can't really describe it. I was glad that we could take that time. It started raining by around noon, and since we had already seen all of Venice the day before, we decided just to spend a relaxing day in our hotel room. It won't be a day that will be soon forgotten.

And that was Venice. I'm looking forward to traveling to Ireland and the UK this week. So much to see, so little time! Arrivederci!

Vimy Ridge, Holland, time

So I haven't been doing very well to keep this blog up to date. To be honest, I haven't been keeping anything really up to date, which is a problem since I have so much to write about. I spent a bit of time tonight looking at pictures of our European travels and reminising about all that I've seen and experienced here. And time just keeps ticking onward. I still don't really know how to bottle up moments. Something always seems to keep me from fulling being able to grasp it and lock it away. We've realized that we really don't have that much time left in Paris - we have 2 weeks of vacation starting on Friday, which will be full of travels, and then we have one full week of classes until exams start to eat out our brains. I still have a few things to cross off of my to-do/to-see list for Paris, but at this point, I just have to enjoy living in it. I've become so familiar with this big, crowded, rich city.  I look at maps less and less frequently. I ENJOY getting lost now instead of panicking slightly and whipping out my plan de Paris. I've realized that if something becomes familiar to you, it will become comforting and acceptable to you. And it's always hard to say goodbye.. But that doesn't have to come for a little longer yet :)

A couple Saturdays ago I hopped on a train with Sara and two of our Oxford program friends, Justine and Kim. Off we went to find Vimy Ridge! The platform at Vimy is legit just a slab of ashphalt with no station or signs or anything. We walked into the small town that was completely void of people, open stores or signs of life in general. We followed a few signs for the Canadian monument until we came to a 4-way fork in the road, bearing no sign whatsoever. Thankfully we saw a lady walking her dog, so we asked her for directions. She seemed surprised that we were about to walk there, which we found out why later.

Her directions turned out to be bang on. But it was a super long way. We were 4 girls walking seemingly aimlessly along unknown streets. So what else were we gonna do than to try and hitch-hike! Now, I've never hitch-hiked before, so holding out my thumb to unknown cars was quite the thrill. I don't know if the French don't know what that signifies or if they just though that we were stupid, since the sign was around the next bend, but no one picked us up. We saw the sign that said that the turn off was 250 m up the road. We turned right. We kept walking. And walking. And walking. Turns out, the centre isn't for another about 2 km down a twisting, wooded road. So we definitely worked off those waffles we had eaten earlier!

Can I just say that I love Canada. That road, quite, surrounded by woods, the chirp of an occasional bird, the pile of logs - it was the very definition of Canada. Made me long for the summer even more when I can go into the woods or hop the fence into the corn field and get those guitar calluses back.

Vimy Ridge was incredible! If you are ever in France, I suggest that you go to see it. No Man's Land is only 25 m wide, and seeing how close the enemy lines were was incredible! We walked through the Canadian and German trenches, through the Canadian tunnels and were restricted by an electric fence to go onto the battlefield/No Man's Land. There are huge craters everywhere from the war, and apparently some of the mines and whatnot never actually went off, so no one can go on it. They even use sheep to cut the grass. So basically, live ammunition from the First World War is still buried under the grassy hills on Vimy Ridge!

So as not to make this super long for you to read, I'm going to jump to this past weekend that I just spent in Amsterdam. Finding a hostel was like impossible, so I ended up staying on a boat!! Best choice! The room was tiny and the water in the shower was only cold, but it was cute and welcoming. Captain Lucas made pancakes in the morning and I ate toast with hagelslag!! Been a long time since I've enjoyed that. I went into the Anne Frank house and was really sad that it's prohibited to take pictures in there. I repeat that I love being where history really happened, so seeing the original bookshelf that concealed the door to the secret annexe, seeing the pictures that Anne put up on her wall, walking through the rooms where 7 people hide from the Germans and remembering the freedom that there is in being able to go outdoors and even in being able to write was amazing.

I went to the bloemenmarkt (the flower market), got some Dutch cheese samples, walked the length of the Albert Cuyp Markt (the largest market in Amsterdam), ate stroop waffles from a vendor (which is better than any stroop waffle you've ever had), and tried raw harring. Okay, so I love fish! Like, give me any kind of seafood, more or less, and I like it. I'm Dutch, I like seafood, therefore I should like harring. It's gross. The texture is what got me, kind of squeaking between my teeth in a nasty way, having like no real taste. I shared the fish with the garbage. But hey, I tried it!

And I found schuimblokken!!!!! Basically my favourite thing of life (like no joke!) and they don't sell it in Canada (that I've seen) anymore, so I got a huge bag of it :D It's basically just like blocks of sugar, but it melts in your mouth and is just delectable!

I also went on a canal tour. That was probably my favourite part of the whole weekend - being able to see Amsterdam from on the canals, with a fantastic skipper (who even kicked off a large group of loud, disrespectful guys), and listening to the info and stories that were told.

Next up: Italy!! Cheryl, Sara and I leave for Italy on Friday where we'll spend the week in Rome and Venice, then Cheryl and I will spend a week traveling to Dublin and London. Let the good times roll!

On the Beaches of Normandy

I love history. I almost took a history minor when I started Redeemer just because I loved it so much. All the studying that I have done of the World Wars always gives you a reminder of what happened in our world not 70 years ago. But I must say that actually walking along the D-Day beaches where the fighting actually took place and walking through the same streets that Canadian soldiers and tanks liberated made it a whole lot closer to home.

5 of us left Paris early on Saturday morning on the train to Caen in Normandy. I didn't learn until later that day that Caen was a huge place of fighting in the battle for Normandy and it took the Canadians a month to get from Juno Beach to Caen when it's only a 20 minute drive away from the English Channel. We took a bus to Courseulles-sur-Mer and walked to the Juno Beach Centre. The day was cold and cloudy and threatening to rain and the tide was out - two things that were parallel to when the soldiers landed on the beach on June 6, 1944. There was a bit of national pride as we saw the Canadian flag blowing in the wind, as well as seeing an entire shelf in the souvenir shop full of maple products! The museum was very well laid out, informational, clear to follow, and the guided tour that we took explained quite a bit. We went outside to the bunker that the Germans had occupied while they protected the coast and I must say, they were stinkin' smart people! Their tactics and defenses were incredible!

Juno Beach is bigger than I thought. Out of the 80 km of coast that the Allies attacked on D-Day, 8 km of that was designated to the Canadians at Juno. Since the tide was out, we walked for a good long time, dogging puddles, across the beach and out to where the English Channel actually started. As dismal as the day was, there was a sort of beauty about it and awe at what the soldiers actually accomplished. These past couple days have made me so much more thankful for our freedom. It sounds like a simple statement, but there is so much weight behind that. Seeing footage and pictures and then the real thing is humbling and sombre.

Justine, Sara and I spent the night at a B&B in town. Cutest little town! Cutest little B&B! They left the key for us, since they weren't around the night we got there. We met Isabelle the next morning. Sweetest lady ever! She showed us a picture of the Canadian soldiers and tanks that were right in front of their house! Crazy to think of that as we walked out that morning. She was so kind and drove us 15 minutes farther west to Arromanches, where Gold Beach is - one of the beaches designated to the British on D-Day. Here we saw huge concrete slabs 2 km out in the water. These are the remains of a make-shift harbour that they secretly brought across the Channel in order to provide supplies for all the soldiers along the Normandy coast. The sheer genius of it and the scale of the task and the detail that went into it was incredible! I suggest you Google it because I had never heard of it before Sunday and there was so much information! The tide was in when we got there but went out again later that day and so we could walk out to one of the closest concrete slabs that helped to make up this road on the water. Kind of intimidating to be so close to it, but so amazing. I'm really not giving any of this trip justice with my descriptions, but incredible is an over-arching word I will use to describe it.

So in short, freedom. We are so blessed! We really can't forget what happened during this dark time, even though none of the fighting ever took place on Canadian soil. We still played an important role in the war and we have freedom because of it. I've thought so much about freedom of all sorts these past few days. I'm free to walk around and run and jump and do what I want because I am not detained in any way and my body is healthy. I'm free to speak my mind and talk about what I believe in because I live in a free country here in France and I come from a free country in Canada. I'm free to live for Christ, free from the bondages of sin, because Jesus has redeemed us and washed us whiter than that cold, white stuff we get in winter, and I'm free from the restraints and burdens that society and media puts on people. And I'm free to write this blog. You are free to read it. We are free to live each day in peace and joy.

Pentecostal Moments

HE IS RISEN!!
HE IS RISEN INDEED!!


Easter is basically my favourite day of the year! My family has this tradition that Mom will wake us up by blarring the song "Early in the Morning", by David Meece, through the stereo, so we wake up with the joy of Easter vibrating through every fibre of our being. Being in Paris this year did not break that tradition for me. I'm glad that both of my roommates are gone this weekend, because I woke up, turned on my ipod, played that song and danced around the room! There is such joy in this day! There has been a permanent smile plastered to my face all day! The tomb is empty, Jesus kicked Satan in the face, my sins are forgiven, the temple curtain is torn, and my Saviour's alive! When I get excited about something, I run. So I ran out the door, down the gazillion flights of stairs, out the residence, and down the street to the metro on the way to church. I got some strange looks as the Parisians wondered what on earth this crazy girl in a dress and a goofy smile on her face was doing tearing down the street.


I was a little late (despite the running) and got to the French church just as they started to sing the first song. It's more traditional there, which, not gonna lie, kind of took me aback for a second. Yes, the songs spoke of joy and celebration and there was gratitude in the prayers of the people, but where was the sheer excitement in their actions that I'm used to in my Pentecostal church back home? I'm not trying to tear down any denomination, don't get me wrong, but I felt a little out of place. But it was still the same joyous event that we were declaring, and that's all that matters!


A few of us went to the American church after the French service was over. This felt a little more like home for me: the songs were upbeat and loud, the people clapped through and after the songs, I sat by the aisle and had room to jump and move around - as I love doing when I worship. There's something about being able to raise your hands in worship and sing as loud as you can and dance around before God. There's something about being completely abandoned in worship, that it doesn't matter what you look like, but you just let everything you have be showing your joy. I often feel like there is no dance that expresses it properly, no raised hand that is able to reach high enough, no jump that can make it up to the heavens. Even our outward acts of worship in that sense do not capture the emotion that we feel and long to express to God, but we're celebrating with the angels and shouting with the 4 living creatures around the throne, "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come!"
Today has been filled with joy, and I've been reminded that this day (this weekend) is what all of theology hinges on and what all of our lives are lived for; it's why we're on this earth. What would happen if we woke up every morning with the same joy and celebration that we woke up with this morning? How would our lives be different? What would our attitude and our actions be?


On a completely different topic from Easter, a few of us got dressed up last night and went to Palais des Congrès to see "Esmeralda", my first ballet ever! I've had this dream to be a ballerina, and watching the group from the Ukraine do it last night was absolutely fantastic and I loved seeing the precision and grace and expression in each move. The Kremlin ballet was supposed to do it, but something happened and the group from the Ukraine took over, but I of course couldn't tell the difference, having nothing to compare it to. As for the storyline - let's just say that the Disney version of "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" is very tame! Basically everyone dies! Wasn't expecting that... There were sheets of paper on our seats to explain the story, seeing as the ballet itself was done with only music and dance and no words. One thing I learned: your arms can get sore from clapping too long. We legit clapped for like 3-4 minutes solid as they bowed at the end. It just didn't stop! They for sure deserved it, but I think that's the longest I will ever clap in my life!


Happy Easter (a few days late)! Be joyful! Carry this message in your heart, as we claim that we do, throughout this week and into the entire year. :)

Beautiful Belgium!

Paris is great, don't get me wrong, but getting away from the continual noise of cars and people, seeing some colour in the streets other than grey and more grey and sometimes a weird yellow colour, and breathing air that isn't filled with cigarette toxins is much needed. So I went to Belgium this past weekend to visit my dear, long-lost twin, Hilary, who is studying there this year.

The trip started off on an interesting foot. I thought my bus left at 5 pm when it actually left at 4 pm so I had to try and get another bus ticket, which proved to be very difficult. The bus leaving at 6 pm had one spot left, and of course there was someone else in line for it ahead of me. Then I got on the phone to ask for another one (don't know why the lady at the counter couldn't just do it for me) and I could barely hear the lady on the phone and French face to face is difficult, much less on the phone and I basically just felt stupid for not understanding her and then I get on the phone with a guy to speaks English...kinda...and it took like 15 minutes, no joke, to spell my name to him. I thought Ritskes was difficult before..... So he emailed me my new ticket. I'm in a train station. I have no way to print the stupid thing. So I hop on the metro, at this point trying to hold back tears and really just wanting to be in Canada, plug in my headphones and listen to "Still" by Hillsong to try and calm down, go to the internet cafe and print my ticket, making it back in time to catch my bus at 8 pm. So. Annoying.

BUT - I made it :) And found Hilary at the station no problem and it was a WONDERFUL weekend! We talked like non-stop and she showed me all there is to see in Leuven (where she lives, east of Brussels) and Brugge (in the north near the ocean).

There's so much to talk about! Okay, food! Upon getting to Brugge on Saturday it was lunch time so we found the cutest little restaurant you'll ever see. We sat beside the window and watched the horse-drawn carriage tours go by and felt the heat of the fireplace inside. If Brugge taught me anything it is that the Belgium people love chocolate and butter. My salmon that I ordered was swimming in an Olympic-sized pool of it! There was a blob of something on top, so I tried a little to see what it was. MORE BUTTER! Seriously, I don't know how they all aren't obese. So I didn't eat all that butter, but the food was delicious! I also tried a Belgium waffle covered in the richest chocolate ever in Brugge. They had a little van on the side of the road (like a chip truck) that was selling them. The French have crêperies; the Belgians have waffle trucks. And the Americans have McDonald's. THOUGH!! Good thing about McD's - they had speculoos McFlurries in Leuven!! So yes, I spent money on McD's in Belgium :)

We went in search of a chocolate store because that was really the only thing on my list of "Things you must do in Belgium". We found one that Hilary knew was exceptionally good and I may or may not have bought like a lot of chocolate. There's only box with all these different kinds in it and I have to exercise self-control not just to mow-down on them all at once, but to savour them. Not sure if I'll ever get real Belgium chocolate again.

We climbed all 366 stairs of the belfry and were lucky enough to be at the top in the room with all the huge bells as they sounded the hour..or the half hour.. It was loud and sounded incredible! I took a video of it, but it doesn't capture the sound very well and you can't hear all the small, harmonizing notes as well as you could up there. Definitely worth the climb up the steep, small spiral staircase, with only a rope as a handrail.

With Easter in just over a week, I was interested in a little cathedral Hilary brought me to. Neither one of us are really into cathedrals. Sure, the architecture is incredible and all and a lot of them are super old, but they just kinda creep us out. Something just not right about it. And no offense to any Catholic friends, but Jesus is not on the cross anymore. This cathedral claims to have a vial of Jesus' blood. I have heard of these things before, where you pay money to see something biblical like that (even though they can make like hundreds of crosses out of the pieces claimed to be of Jesus' cross, but I didn't think I'd be able to see one. Unfortunately, it wasn't on display the afternoon that we were there, but oh well. There were pictures of it at least.

It was so peaceful there (both Brugge and Leuven)! There were even some buds on some of the trees already! The cobblestone streets were super cute and there were little creeks surrounding certain blocks in the city, hemmed in by red-brick buildings. We walked through the botanical gardens in Leuven and even though there really weren't many flowers, it was still beautiful and green :) And there were swans swimming in the stream in Brugge! Hilary told me that apparently in Belgium, Santa Claus drives a sleigh pulled by swans. Don't ask. So now, forget about reindeer! Whenever I see a swan I'll just think of Santa.

So that is Belgium in a nutshell. I could go on but I don't want to bore you. Basically what I learned from that trip: 1) don't speak to people in French on the phone;
2) God is an enormous and stable life-line and He has funny ways of drawing us back into being dependent on Him. Seriously, I could have done without the huge hassle of running around not understanding anything, trying to get on a bus to Brussels, but He showed Himself faithful again and answered my prayers and reminded me that I really can't do it all on my own and I need Him more than ever;
3) It is so incredible to have friends from the past who know the people you grew up with and the streets you grew up on and the places you grew up going to. Real sense of community and home and fellowship and wonderful times of laughter at old jokes (Aunt Agnes Whale!);
4) Belgium chocolate really is the best thing ever!!

Pure Religion

I LOVE receiving snail mail! Who doesn't?! We check everyday to see if there is something in the mailboxes for us. Often there isn't, but when there is - it basically makes the rest of the day super incredible. (PS - for the record, this is not a ploy to get you to send us more mail :P)
But I received a letter from one of my dear dorm mates this past week and it was incredibly encouraging and moved me to tears. At the end was the following Bible verse:

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." ~James 1:27

Whoa.

Paris is a big city. It's dirty and extremely busy. And full of homeless people and beggars. We see them everyday and get to know the faces of those that we pass on our regular routes. It really does break my heart and I can't do anything to help them except throw a few coins in their old coffee cups from time to time. One person, especially a poor university student, cannot reach the needs of the entire world, no matter how much we wish that we could. The girls here and I have had a few conversations about how we come up with every excuse in the book not to give when we see them and how we feel so useless here.

My very dear friend once said, "Do for one what you wish you could do for all." That was ground-breaking for me when I first heard it and is honestly keeping me afloat at times here when it seems like the need is so incredibly overwhelming. Pick a few people to help and go from there. It's not the quantity that matters, but the quality.

I see the same two people on the way back from classes everyday. It's a mother and her son with a sign that says, "J'ai faim." (I'm hungry.) I wonder what that little boy thinks of the world as he sits there with the saddest expression on his face. He's not in school, he's inside of a metro station day in and day out, and he has to watch as thousands of people pass him everyday and ignore him and his mom. I put some coins in their jar on Friday as we went past them. The mother was so incredibly thankful! I wish that there wasn't the language barrier so I would feel a tad more comfortable talking with her. Legit - why do we make excuses like that?! I kick myself for it.

I walked the entire length of Champs-Elysées (a super busy street in Paris) yesterday and as I walked, I saw a small garden with benches off to the side. It looked more quiet than most of the gardens in Paris (as everything is crazy busy all the time). I wanted to get home as I had been out walking for hours already, but God told me that I wouldn't regret it. Going on a detour, I found a little patch of grass and a little cluster of bushes and trees. I sat on the bottom branch of one of the trees, just off the ground, and found myself, for the first time in 2 months, completely hidden from people's view in the middle of God's creation. Wow. Those are priceless moments.
As I began to pray, I was reminded of that mother and child. God put it in my heart that those are the few that I can help while I'm here. Can I just play a game with the son for a bit? Can I teach him to read if he doesn't have any education? Can I get them a Bible and just encourage that mother? Being in French, yea, it will be insanely difficult, but it was also insanely difficult for God to watch his only Son die on a cross for a rebellious people.

So pure religion. It's more than just "Read your Bible, pray everyday and you'll grow, grow, grow" like that old song tells us. If you're not growing into a tree with deep roots that are producing a harvest of 100, 60, 30 times as much as has been planted (Matthew 11), then what's the point? What, then, are you living for? Life's not about staying in your comfort zone. Ouch, hallelujah.

Who are the few that you can help?

The Vine and the branches

Things in Paris are getting pretty monotonous. Save for the 8 am classes...I don't know if I will get used to those. Civilization classes started last week so in addition to grammar classes in the mornings and phonetics classes in the late afternoons every other week, I'm also taking History of French Art, Poetry and Song, and Paris. It's like impossible to take notes in the first two and the latter is actually quite interesting and yet repetitive (at this point) of French history courses I've taken previously.

So school's boring. Who wants to talk about school...?

Last Sunday I went to the regular French service at the church we've been attending. The community there is pretty welcoming of us and they have a picnic together after the service every week, which I'd say is pretty legit. However, one of the things that I have written on my list of "What I've learned in Europe" is that my pick-me-up, my calming action, the thing that puts my soul at ease, is singing worship songs to God at the top of my lungs. When you're told that you're supposed to stay in French as much as you can, that can get difficult. I don't know the majority of the songs that we sing at church cuz they are 1) hymns that I've never heard before and 2) they're in French. Harder to focus on the God we're singing to when you're conscious of trying to understand what the words you're struggling to pronounce are.
So I went to the American church after for their contemporary service. (They have 3 services in the morning!) The place looks like any other in Paris. It's practically a cathedral with tall ceilings and stained glass windows and a nifty little platform for the pastor. Then the full band gets up there and the powerpoint comes on the screen with words you've been saying all your life and the music starts up full and strong and suddenly, you're singing "Better is One Day" and your heart soars as high as your hands are lifted and as far as your voice is carried.

I went there again after the French church this morning. The message was on how Jesus is the Vine and we are the branches and we can be severed from the vine if we do not bear fruit. That passage always kicks me into gear and really reminds me of what my place is and why I'm on this earth. It also tied in very nicely to what I've been learning recently..

I legit can do nothing. I have absolutely no strength. If I even think of doing something for the Kingdom of God, all of my strength suddenly gets sapped out of me and all I want to do is sleep. 2 Corinthians 12:9, "My grace is sufficient for you, and my power is made perfect in weakness." That verse has allowed me to keep my head up in the past half year and now so much of what I've learned while in God's classroom is now being put into action while I'm out in God's "co-op", if you will. As I was reminded of this morning, I am not alive if I am not connected to the Vine. There's a reason I can't do anything when I don't have God's strength flowing through me.

I'm an introvert, for those of you who don't know me that well, and for the most part I enjoy spending time by myself, or at least not talking a whole lot when I'm with people. These past few semester especially in Hamilton have opened me up a bit more, I think, and I have realized how many people there are who love and care for me and that honestly makes me feel so incredibly blessed! And now that I'm on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean from all of you, I've realized how much I've come to depend on those communities. It's back to how it used to always be: just me and God. It's good to be connected to other people, but if we're not connected to the Vine, there's really no point. It's reshuffling my focus and reminding me again of what it is to be in an intimate relationship with God 24/7.

I am so blessed!

I'm like a child on their first day of school! (Provided they are actually excited about it and not terrified.) While all of my lovely Redeemerites are on their reading break, I'm in my first full week of classes. It is honestly SO good to be back in school and learning things and having something more concrete to do with my days! I started out in one class last week and found it was very easy so I switched to a more advanced level and got placed in a grammar class that runs 8 am to 10:30 am Mon, Tues, Thurs, Fri. The hour sucks and it's still dark when we leave the residence to walk to the metro, but it made the rest of my schedule work out so that is wonderful and definitely a blessing from God!

The prof is incredible! He explains things so well and gives clear examples and doesn't rip on us if we get a question wrong and I've actually been able to answer a few questions in class which I like never really do anymore, so life is good! It is always nice to have a goal to work towards and school definitely gives those goals.

In other news, I've been learning for the past few months about trust and how little trust I actually have in like anyone. I realized that I also unfortunately do not have as much trust in God as I would like/should. Can I really just leave things in His hands (those capable hands who created and sustain the universe, who formed my being and holds me together every moment of every day,) and trust that He will take care of it? We're so quick to pray, "Your will be done" and then go out and take control again. It more often than not just turns out in a tug-of-war and God always wins. I've seen His blessings EVERYWHERE recently! He provided me with two jobs in Hamilton for the summer doing things in the religion department at Redeemer and I have options for housing and God's working things out in that area for me and I know that even though it's taking longer than I was hoping to have my laptop looked at, there are people here in Paris who can potentially fix it (or at least save my info) without it costing a whole lot. It's all in HIS timing and though the only way to learn to be patient is to be tested in patience and be forced to wait, it is so beneficial of a lesson to learn!

"Jesus is the calm in the midst of the storm." There's a painting at my house in Courtice with that quote on it and it's been popping up in my mind a lot recently. He really is the rock. No matter where I am in the world, He's the same God. The same God who worked so many miracles to bring His people out of slavery in Egypt, the same God who walked this earth, the same God who rose Jesus from the grave and who reigns over all - He is the same God that we worship and live for everyday and with Him going before me, walking beside me and following up behind me, it doesn't matter what's going on in life, cuz He's faithful.

So yea, I'm blessed :)

Salt water

I am so sorry that it has been so long since I last wrote a post on here, and for those who have me on Facebook, I'm sorry that there are no pictures of my travels to Barcelona and Nice yet. My laptop has not been turning on properly anf when it does, the internet at my residence hasn't been working for the past two-three days so it's all around a lose-lose situation. Tears are salty. I've only shed a few since being here in Europe and most have them have been due to laughing so hard. Today was different. I'm just fed up with things not working and I have no clue why I'm studying French and what God wants me to do with all of this. Did He even call me to be in French? I kinda just went full speed into it without consulting Him at all. Well, I'm here now and I'm experiencing some incredible things and I have finally been seeing God shine His light through me.

Without writing you a book and keeping you starring at this screen for ages, let's keep this short. My trip with the other Redeemer girls to Barcelona and Nice was actually incredible!! The plane ride over just added to the excitement of spending some time away from Paris. Paris is cold and cloudy and rainy. We had gone skating at an outdoor rink just a day or two before leaving for Barcelona and in the span of the hour and a bit that we were out there, there was rain, sun, rain and then cloud. Paris sounds romantic, but to live there is another story.

So we hop on the plane to to head to Spain and we fly over mountains and catch the first few glimpses of the Mediterranean Sea (something that I've always wanted to see). It was gorgeous! I've always wanted to see the water that's super light blue (like you'd see in the Carribean) and I did not expect to see it in Barcelona, but it was there nonetheless. There was sun and one of my souvenirs was to buy sunglasses. We were there for less than 2 hours before we were down on the beach. It was the 3rd day of February and people were in shorts and tshirts playing beach volleyball and sitting in the soft and sparkly sand. Heavenly! It was in a moment of sitting in the sun in those few days, with my eyes closed cuz it was so bright and feeling the sun beat down on my pale skin that I heard God say, "Remember this moment." God knew I'd need a moment like that to hold on to while I'm here in Paris.

The Mediterranean Sea was cold but felt oh so wonderful to be in! Cheryl even went swimming in it! (For like 7 seconds..but that was longer than the rest of us even dared.) It was incredible to think that that same body of water was what brought Paul on all three of his missionary journeys and what he was ship-wrecked in. Jesus was probably along the Mediterranean at one point as well. And one of my favourite thoughts while standing in the crashing waves was that Africa was on the other side :) I honestly can't wait to go there!

It would take far too long to tell you all about what we did in Barcelona and Nice and Cannes (where we took like a gazillion pictures with the light blue water and took a ferry ride to Ile de Sainte-Margurrite where the man in the iron mask was kept in prison-true story I found out) qnd Eze and Monaco (which is the second most expensive place in the world to live). We ate seafood that came from the Mediterranean and ate fruit that had sat in sugar for like 3 days or something and heard stories of old town Nice where a 15 year old girl was tortured and killed for her faith in God and where Napoleon tried to reform everything and where bricks were painted onto the walls of houses and where you could see the French Alps. We fed fish as we ate lunch along the marina and we saw incredible sea creatures in an aquarium museum. We tanned at tad (my roommate commented on that when I returned) and we enjoyed doing nothing and seeing all the beauty of southern France that God has made. We took a 6 hour train ride back to Paris and now our classes have just begun. Hard to believe what we've seen in 3 weeks and how much more awaits in these next 4 months. Let's hope the salt water stays in the ocean and only runs down our faces when we are laughing so hard that we can barely breathe. And let's hope I can remember that moment in the sun, free from care, that God graciously gave to me.

Those French boys

Basically everyone I talked to about going to France mentioned French boys to me, whether it was to warn me about them or to encourage me to come back with one. Cheryl Hartemink (the other Cheryl on this trip with me) said that if one of us was to hook up with a French guy, it'd be me. Really?

We went to the Musée d'Orsay for a bit this morning (getting in for free because we are students!) and art isn't everyone's cup of tea so we left around noon to get some food. We found a little café that had decently priced, good food so we went in and sat down. This tall, black guy at another table kept looking at me and I avoided eye contact and did nothing to say I saw his winks and stares.

We ate. He got up to leave. Rachel fought to get the escargot out of their shells (they don't take them out of their shells before they give them to you like they do in Canada). We paid and got up to leave. The waiter came over to me just as I was about to head out the door. He handed me a little green slip of paper, saying that the guy who'd been staring at me had told him to give it to me. It says, "Salut. Jean Philippe. (his phone number). Tu es très belle."

Well folks, what does one do when one receives a note like that? She just laughs and passes it around to all her friends and takes pictures of it and wonders at those French boys.

Once again I look upon the cross where You died

You don't really realize how much you take your language for granted until you're not able to hear it or speak it everyday.

We went to church this morning. It's a Baptist church. It was alright. Nothing like what I'm used to at COTR (or FWC for that matter) and I almost cried because I missed it back home so much. But "You are who You are, no matter where I am" and I know that He is honoured no matter which language we speak to Him in. There were a few songs this morning that were the same as English worship songs (Great is Thy Faithfulness, Were You There When They Crucified My Lord) so I would start singing them in French (we were given the words) and then switch to English halfway through. It's difficult to abandon yourself in worship when you're not familiar with the words and you have to read them off the screen.
Rachel and I returned there this evening. There were more songs that we knew from the English versions (Refiner's Fire, Come Now is the time to worship, Once Again, and a few others that will come to me after I post this).

The best part of tonight was when we got there.

We sat down on the hard, wooden pew. The band stopped practicing. Other music came over the sound system as people filed in. I recognized it. They played English music!! Praise You in this Storm, Hosanna, .. it was beautiful to hear. We just sat there and sang and had our own little worship session. I was reminded of the cross and its power and how we are the ones who put the nails in His hands. I was reminded of how we were the ones who wanted to build up our name so much that we reached God and God had to put different languages in our mouths in order to fulfill His commands. I was reminded of how God has called us His children and His disciplines those He loves. He treats us as a true Father.

I just want to feel closer to God. It's actually been amazing how He's continuously given me strength this week. I want to thank you for all your prayers. He's the King, no matter where I am in the world. It's His universe, His Earth, His France, His Canada. I'm just His servant that He's promoted to daughter. His love is grand, bigger than we can understand. How wide, how long, how high and how deep it runs. Wider than the span of the Earth's sphere, longer than the expanse of the universe with all its stars and galaxies, higher than we can see into the sky and deeper than we could ever descend into the sea, even with the most advanced technology. That's the God that's watching over you and I, never sleeping.

Turn on a worship song right now - whichever one is your favourite - and spend some time worshiping our God in your own language.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

These past couple days have been filled with lots of walking, wearing my scarf up to my nose and touring Paris. Paris is crazy busy! We live in a pretty well-to-do area, from what Rusthoven (my prof) says, but it's crazy busy everywhere! All the tiny streets and metro hallways are filled with people and I typically walk faster so as to blend in. I don't know why. I should be standing out, wearing a big red and white sweater with a cross on it or something to show I'm not from here. Besides, heaven's my true home.

Yesterday we took the funiculaire up Montmartre to Sacré-Coeur - a big cathedral. The outside looked really cool (I've tried putting up photos but the internet is slow most of the time so I can't quite do that yet and I'm sorry...they're on their way). We walked around the streets on Montmartre and there'll all really small and quaint and cobblestony and whatnot. I love it! We found a really old cemetary and went in and looked around. All the tombstones were huge and there were monuments everywhere! Emile Zola used to be buried there (and his tombstone is still there) but his body was moved a couple years back for a reason that I can't remember right now. But basically, it was really interesting to see how people honoured the dead with such humungous stones and little chapel-looking things and all that.

It was freezing (though not in comparison to Canada) so we went in search of food and warmth. We found a creperie and ate butter/sugar crepes. Soooo good!! Much better than the ones we had made ourselves that morning - though those weren't half bad. Nothing like my dad's though..

Last night Sara, Rachel and I braved the cold again and took the metro down to the Eiffel Tower. Oh. my. goodness. As we stood at the base of it I was suddenly hit with the fact that I am truly in Paris. All the lights on the tower and how a bunch more make it sparkle once every hour was just breath-taking. We walked right underneath it and to the other side, taking pictures all the way. Beautiful. I can't wait to go up it! We're waiting for a clear day to do that.

Today we enrolled at the Sorbonne, even though classes don't start for another couple weeks. Our placement test is on Tuesday. After all that was done, we went to an old Roman arena, stood in the middle of it and sang. We sang Amazing Grace and three or so songs in French. It was beautiful. Reminded me that God's right in the middle of everything that we're doing. And as one of the french songs says, "Shout, shout for joy! For the Lord is near!" He was (and is) VERY near...even inside.

Next we went to Notre Dame!!! We watched the Disney version of "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" (en français) with everyone tonight and it was pretty awesome to see in the movie a representation of what we had seen in person earlier today. Notre Dame was as amazing as it sounds. The outside of the building, as you can see in any picture of it, is an absolutely incredible work of art and we all took pictures with it. We were actually allowed to take pictures inside of it so I took some of the stained-glass windows and the statues and chandeliers and all the many candles that people had lit. There are organ recitals every Saturday there so we might go to one tomorrow night.

All in all, life is good, the French is getting a little easier (though not nearly what I'd like it to be at yet) and I know your prayers are holding me together....okay, so God's holding me together, but if I know anything it's that the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective, so thank you for yours towards me. If you'd let me I ask that they continue. Each day has it's ups and downs and I know Sunday will for sure make me wish that I was home.

Love you all! God bless

Flights and fatigue

Here I am! I write this to you all the way from Paris, France where their keyboards have the letters in all the wrong places and I'm forced to type slowly as a result of not yet having an adapter for my laptop. I am running low on energy. Haven't slept in over 30 hours and with the excitement and stresses of travelling and whatnot, it's definitely catching up to me. I hit waves of energy and then sink lower into being tired. But overall it hasn't been terrible.

The flight from Toronto to London went really well. No problems and we could watch our progress of where we were in our flight on the screen in front of us. And I may or may not have watched Madagascar 3 as well. We made it to Heathrow on time. We went through security with no problems and sat down to wait for our flight. It was cancelled. We got tickets for another flight leaving at 11:40. It was delayed. We finally pulled up out of there after 12:30, after 6 hours of sitting in the airport. The flight from London to Paris took like no time at all. I barely had enough time to swallow the trail mix and apple juice they gave me before they were telling us to put on our seatbelts for landing.

Sara, Rachel and I took a taxi to our residence (l'Union Chrétienne de Jeunes Filles at 22 rue de Naples, 75008, Paris, France if anyone cares to know and/or send mail). Save for the signs being in French, the highways looked like Toronto, covered in some snow and everything. However, the downtown streets are insane!!! Cars pull out anywhere and pedestrians almost get hit and everything is super fast paced and you basically think you're going to die the whole time. Half of the driving they do would not pass with the cops in Ontario. But we finally made it to the residence safely.

Mlle Perols, the lady who basically runs the show here at l'UCJF, met us when we  got there and we checked in and everything (my VISA taking two smaller transactions over one big one...prayer for that would be great). The building is old and looks really cool. The fluent speaking French people however cause me to feel like I have no place and no right to be here. It could be because I'm tired and can't really focus on anything, but comprehending what all the fluent people are saying is difficult and I can't last long speaking in French. I guess I have to be somewhat lenient with myself - I've only been here for a few hours. We still even get lost in the building (problems with having two sets of stairs).

So basically, I'm about to crash. Lots to do tomorrow (getting a phone and a metro pass and an adapter for my laptop so I don't have to use this messed up one anymore). Thank you for your prayers!! They mean so much to me and I've felt them helping me today. Please pray for my mind to grasp the French auickly and that I wouldn't be afraid to make mistakes. No one's perfect all the time.

Home

I have the greatest friends!

I walked down the familiar trail of sidewalks and streets and through the park with a dear friend last night to and from Meadowlands. We were running late getting back to our dorm for devos at 9pm. I don't have keys to the dorm anymore so we knocked. There were streamers hanging in the window of the door. My roommate opens the door and I see people who are not part of my dorm. I see a cake with my name on it. I see "Bon voyage Cheryl!" written on the whiteboard. I see streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. I hear so many of my friends exclaiming as I walk in.

I've never had a surprise party before. It was fantastic! There were hugs and conversation with so many amazing people and both chocolate and confetti cake and tea and laughter and, most importantly, an amazing sense of being at home.

I love Redeemer. I've learned that the old saying is true: Home is where the heart is. Home is when I'm with those people who truly care about me. Those ones who I can sit down with and talk to and listen to and the time passes quickly. It's those people I can laugh with and remember adventures with. It's those people I'm going to miss the most while I'm away.

Countdown

Well here we are, one week until my flight leaves for Paris, France and I spend 5 months on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. It's still super unreal. Living in the heart of Paris, studying in one of the oldest universities in the world, traveling to as many different European countries as possible, speaking another language...it seems like another world; it's the other side of the vast ocean!

To be honest, I'm a mix of my stomach erupting in excited butterflies and on the brink of a nervous breakdown. The 6 other girls from Redeemer who I'm going with and I booked flights for a trip to Barcelona and Nice before school starts and as excited as I was as I clicked the "Confirmation" button on the airline websites, I had a stress headache for 3 days. What if I can't actually do this? I spent 5 weeks in Quebec two summers ago in a petite town that spoke zero English. By the end of my stay there I could understand completely what people told me, but I had spent so many evenings with my mind in the English mode that my oral skills in French left something to be desired. It's my goal while in France to keep my mind in French as much as possible. That scares me to death. I have to reach the Advanced or Superior level while writing my entrance exam (which has an oral component to it) or else my credits there don't transfer to Redeemer at the level they need to be at. So much pressure. I just have to spend a lot of time studying and brushing up on my French in the next week before we fly out.

But let's be real - I shouldn't be freaking out about that yet. This is the adventure of a life-time! (Or the adventure for this semester at least.) I know that God goes before me and walks beside me. He invented the French language so no worries that He can't help me with that one. I'm excited to travel and see all the richness of culture and landscape and architecture and eat real, French croissants and EVERYTHING! I'm excited to get involved and live in a room with two other international students from who knows where. I'm excited to get plugged into the church there and to walk the streets of Paris and experience as much as I can. I might as well make the most of it while I'm there.

So here's the countdown - 7 days! I just got back to Redeemer today to spend the week here and it's nice to be back and seeing everyone again. Gives me a bit of normalcy before I head out to the other side of the ocean.