Change & Coping

I feel like a different me than when I set out a year ago.

The New me. The good with the bad and getting through big things.

What have I accomplished?
I've lived in another culture for a year.
I've learned a language.
I've helped my kids navigate public school relationships in another language and culture.
I've worshiped our Father in another language and shared about Him too.
I've traveled entirely too much.
I've dealt with chronic back pain and fatigue.
I've grieved lost time with my dad, knowing he might die of cancer.
I've dealt with stress.
I've had my ups and my downs.
I've become much more introverted - weird. (Those of you who knew me before might not believe this possible, but I've realized the benefit and the joy that comes from holding my tongue! It's so energizing to not be the center of attention now.)
I've become more appreciative. Really.
I've changed - too much to note each detail, but it's there, and I can feel it and maybe you can see it too - or maybe you can't.

Everyone asks how my trip was - unless they understand it was not a trip but my life for a year. (It's ok, really. I like sharing. I get it.)

I came home from France and waded through my thoughts and emotions of transitioning from my home culture of a year to my changed home culture in the States.


Life in the great USA is still great, but it is different.
I can't explain to you why, but I'll try.:
Maybe it's the busy that people hold as more important than time with family and friends.
Maybe it's that people are willing to check out from society by putting in their ear buds.

Maybe it's the technology. Everyone checking their $200 phones (or in my case a borrowed flip-phone - I have to adapt to culture even a bit, don't I? or my borrowed iTouch.)

Side Note:
I had to laugh at the fact that when I was visiting my family we were all playing a game against each other on our devices while we were in the same room! We were playing games just like we used to only this time it was without pencil and paper and it was called  "Draw Something" instead of Pictionary. (I thought this was fine since we had all thoroughly connected verbally for days as we visited Dad in Hospice and consoled each other - so we got our "Face Time" in *wink*).

Life here in the US is just faster, and I am amazed at how much we eat here in such little time.
In France, we ate well, but it was over many hours - not a marathon Thanksgiving stuff your face kind of meal, but a little of this and a lot of conversation. (Don't get me wrong - I love Thanksgiving!)
Here we also would grab a meal on the run and eat it in the car - why?? It's so much messier that way and a lot less enjoyable.
I miss walking and biking everywhere in France. Do people do that here? I find things are way too far away to make that work well. How dependent we are on fuel.

Anyway, life is different for me since my experiences have increased.  
Life is different for me now that my dad is gone. (I'm so thankful we were able to be with him before he passed away).

I've dealt with just a little bit of what my mom went through as my father's caregiver. I was able to help out for a few days as his sole caregiver while she was working, and I did not envy my mom's job of his full-time caregiver. For those of you out there who deal with that on a daily basis. I understand you. You are not alone. I felt so alone and lost trying to do what was best for dad in my human strength. When we're tired and worn, we sometimes forget to look to the One who cares for us.

1Peter 5:7 : Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 

I know I forgot to do that at times. If you are trying to cope with giving your all for your loved one, I encourage you to find someone to talk and cry with (Thanks Brent!). A friend, a caregivers' support group, a church cell group.  It helps. 

It's hard to see your loved one fail. To see their health decline and their mind go - to see time shift and slip from their reach while your life keeps blurring by. (I encourage you to look into respite care at a Hospice house if your loved one has a terminal disease and  care-giving gets to be too much.) It doesn't make you love them any less if you get help. 

I had to get creative with how I processed all that was going on. 

I needed to be alone a lot more.
I needed quiet. 
I needed to veg out in front of the TV so that I wouldn't dwell on it and hyperventilate. (I have had panic attacks over the past year - gee I wonder why!) My dad's life was slipping away - his skin could not keep his soul in his body any longer. 
I needed to cry. I still do.
I needed to draw again. 
Oddly enough I did not want to be with friends or talk on the phone about it. I was avoiding processing that part with anyone other than my family members (it was just to much to explain over and over.)
I needed to be with my kids sometimes and pour into them to fill the lack that I know the years ahead will hold. They are grieving too.

It's weird to think that I fit into a category now: 
Fatherless. 
I'm 32 and I no longer have a dad. My mom is a widow. 
When does this sort of thing happen? 
You never see it coming even when you have a year and a half to prepare after prognosis. 

Deut. 10:17-18 : 17For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. 18He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the alien, giving him food and clothing.  

It's nice to know we will be taken care of.

I'm getting to the place where I understand the beauty of a life after this one.  Life everlasting is the HOPE that I can cling to when life on this earth gets me down. I'm so thankful that it is available to me and to you.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. ¹⁷ For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.  (From John 3:16-17)

This Easter, I received a little gift from our Father.

I had a vision while I was wide awake. In my mind's eye I could see my dad. 

In this vision, he looked like himself but had the disposition of a little child. He was standing next to Jesus and he asked, "Hey, do those holes in your hands and feet still hurt?" Jesus told him, "Not anymore. They are scars of joy now." Then he hugged my dad and my dad grinned the most contented grin I have never seen him have in his entire life (and my dad laughed a lot!). What a treasure that I will always cherish: to know that there is joy and release from pain and sorrow waiting for those of us who trust in Him when we walk from life into eternity. 

This is how I cope.

Another French list

 Different things Laura's seen in France:

• mail man delivers mail by bicycle
• people say au revoir to the bus driver when they get off the bus.
• tiny refrigerators  (most without freezers)
• trees whose bark looks splotched (like an impressionist would paint)
• eggs & milk that don't need to be refrigerated until opened
• more kinds of pork than we know what to do with - seriously!
• a small pack of sliced sandwich meat: chicken (4 per pkg is the only way to buy it)
• no mac N cheese in a box of any kind
• the man purse!
• men wearing scarves - not so odd when it's cold - odd when it's not

Surprizes about France

 Here's another list of things I found in France. Some good, some bad, some just normal now though they used to seem odd. Hope you enjoy this look at my little coin (corner) of France :

• Classy older ladies carry natural wood, wicker baskets to the market and the supermarket.

• Live birds (and dead ones too) at the market. Not to mention bunnies on the menu. (But go figure this is the country that eats frogs' legs - haven't tried them yet).  

• In 9 months of living here, I've seen two men wearing berets (stereotypical French hat). They are not common here. Someone actually told me they are from Belgium (where they speak some French too).

• There are not many easy options for donating gently used goods/furniture, so people often set their donations to the side of the recycling and other people pick them up and put them to good use.

• It's hard to find larger size shoes, plus sized (larger than an American 12) clothing, and tall clothes in general. Surprised to find tall clothes and plus sized (larger than my size) at Kiabi - for decent prices!

• Old ladies in bikinis, flab, wrinkles and all. Funny. No one-pieces except mine.

• Dog droppings everywhere - especially on the sidewalk! Je deteste la crotte! (I detest the droppings!)

• Caring French people. It's a stereotype that French people are cold. They are actually pretty kind and once you get to know them they are very sweet and caring.

• French friends. Being able to connect in another language. Laughter, tears, and all.

• Over 365 types of cheese. Mmm! (Some not pasteurized either - didn't know, haven't gotten sick or died yet.) 

• Intricate apple or pear tart at small group. French church's small group gathering in our home. Fun times in French!

• Christians, even non-Catholics, drink wine for communion and with each dinner meal. C'est normal! (It's normal!) Have only seen a drunk on the street though (homeless). Makes you think - in general it seems they do not drink to get drunk here. 

• People smoking everywhere. More in this city than I would expect than in a small city in the States. Even saw some people rolling up old fashioned tabaco cigarettes. Made me feel like I was living in a different era.

• People say Bonjour!  to the bus driver when they get on & then  Merci, Au revoir!  when they get off the bus. I kinda like this level of politesse (politeness).

• KFC in France! Instead of the typical sides (mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits) you get fries and you could get a lemon tart for dessert. A lemon tart at KFC!!

• People are fashionable. Nice shoes too. It's neat to see what they come up with to look good.

• English songs in stores (including uncensored ones). Songs a few months to a year behind the States. (Same thing with French dubbed US movies).

• Styles from the 80's in the US making their way here. Makes me smile. Big neon sunglasses. Plaids mix-matched.

• For the first time in my life I've seen people pee outside. Walking along (4 different times) and  I see the back of a grown man and realize: OH! and try to walk quickly past. Is that normal here? *shrugs* More practice for Africa.

• Never realized I would learn so much about my language while trying to learn another. We use certain verbs to explain things that they have specific verbs for and vice-versa. It's amazing.

• There's a grocery store here that has special weeks with products from the featured country. Funny to see what is offered during American week. What is sandwich sauce anyway?

• I love walking and riding my bike here. Who knew exercise could be enjoyable!

Hope you enjoyed my list about the differences I see when I look at France through my cultural glasses. :)

Traditional French Lunch

We had the opportunity to be invited over for lunch after church by some French friends who have children the same age as ours. It was a delightful day & we were so excited that they extended an invitation to us since they know we do not speak a ton of French yet.

The day was lovely! Traditionally if you are invited for lunch, you should plan on spending the whole afternoon. We read up on what it could be like before we arrived. We made sure to bring a gift since that was recommended. That was interesting to try to figure out. It's recommended that if you bring wine, you bring a good French wine. We're not wine experts so we avoided bringing wine. It's recommended that if you bring flowers you bring an odd number but not 7 or 13, and also certain flowers signify different things and so do their colors. We avoided bringing flowers too. It's safe to bring chocolates, and I was comfortable with the idea of bringing a dessert, though I did not want to show up my hostess if she had prepared one. So we brought fancy chocolate tea cookies (biscuits) and some Disney character chocolate or strawberry filled cakes (reminded me of twinkies) for the kids. Turns out we picked a good thing to bring. They were a hit with the kids and the adults. :-)

So the main idea of a meal is not just good food. In France the idea is to sit and talk and taste and talk some more. It was fabulous! We started at about noon and finished the day with our friends at 6pm. The first course was an apertif, or pre-dinner drink. It was some sort of hard liquor, maybe Vermooth (I don't even know how to spell that!). We sat sipping this strong drink while talking and munching on pistachios and chips (pronounced: sheeps). Then the kids were called in for the meal and we sang & clapped a prayer.
It went something like this (pardon my spelling and lack of accent marks):

Le pain de hier etait dur. (Yesterday's bread is hard.)
Le pain de demain n'est pas cuit. (Tomorrow's bread is not yet cut.)
Merci Pere, pour le pain d'ajourd'hui. (Thank you Father for the bread of today.)

Then they poured water into one cup and wine into another and we all toasted: A votre sante! (To your health.) All French people, including Christians, have wine with meals. It would almost be unheard of to not have wine with a meal. Wine is used for communion and at the potluck meals at church too. It takes some getting used to.

There was a delicious chicken and a special regional potato and cheese dish for the main course followed by bread and three types of cheeses and then a salad (which is traditionally just lettuce with a dijon mustard dressing).  We spent lots of time talking and laughing, and stumbling over our French. It was great and they were so patient. After dessert, strawberries with chantilly cream (whipped cream), we went to the lake. They drove us out to the lake near Chambery simply because they had asked if we had ever been and we had not -what hospitality! The lake was stunning with the Alps in the background. I wish we had brought our camera. It's the largest natural lake in Europe. The weather was perfect and the water was cool. Our kids loved it! When we came back we had icepops. I'm pretty sure the evening would have continued but Claire suddenly started feeling ill (the start to her flu), so we went home. We plan on having our French friends over for an American experience soon. :-)

We were so glad to be able to experience this so that we could prepare a traditional meal kind of like it for our friends who visited from the States.

Easter pics & our French church Siloe (pronounced See-low-way)

Brollier Family 2011 Easter Sunday

Communion - bread and wine like the Last Supper of Jesus (Luke chapter 22)

Praise and Worship

Kid's Sunday School Class

All dressed up with their Easter smiles too!

Our French church - lots of conversations

Claire in pig-tails and a pretty dress

Outside the front church doors where tables were set up for the feast

Church front doors

Lots of yummy dishes including quiches!

Standing in line for food after saying a prayer of thanks.

Lots of good eatin'!

Fun with French speaking friends

More kid fun!

The walk home begins...

Quick shot of the front of the church building

Claire walking home

Stop at the park on the way home for some pics

More of the nice walk home

Ahh... a clear day - nice view on the walk home

Hope you all had a wonderful Resurrection Sunday (Easter) where we remember that Jesus died for all of our sins and rose again on the third day! Hope you enjoy seeing our French Easter Sunday.
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Here's part of Luke 22 mentioned above in the Communion pic:
 ¹⁴ When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. ¹⁵ And he said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. ¹⁶ For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.”
 ¹⁷ After taking the cup, he gave thanks and said, “Take this and divide it among you. ¹⁸ For I tell you I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.”
 ¹⁹ And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.”
 ²⁰ In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.

Transparancy & Whitewashed Tombs - WHAT IS THIS LIFE ABOUT?

Who knew that going to a foreign country for Language Learning would be a major Lesson in Life as well!

As I try to fit in an adapt in this new culture without completely changing myself, I am learning amazing life lessons from the Lord. I notice that here in a land that seems closed off to God that there is an abundance of beauty. Some of it is incredible, but there is also an abundance of the kind of beauty that is skin deep - superficial, temporary. Let's face it -our skin is temporary. We will not live in this body forever. One day we all turn in this sack of skin (whether it's fresh and firm like a baby or saggy and wrinkled with signs of time etched in it's folds). We turn in our outer shell and what is within remains in eternity - either with God or without. So why is it that this outer shell holds our interest for so long (yet in the light of eternity such a brief vapor of a moment)? Why do we, Americans included, strive to improve only what people can see at first glance if first impressions are often wrong anyway?

In my first few weeks here, I noticed a big difference in the way I dressed and presented myself when I compared myself to the French. That, of course, was my first problem - comparisons. Never-the-less, I noticed. I started seeing myself differently. I am one who was never much concerned with makeup or fancy clothes. I've often been content just to find clothes and shoes that fit since I am of tall stature. I also come with slightly larger feet than most the population (even in the US). I like to think of my large feet as serving a purpose to keep all of my height standing firm. Now when I compare, these things morph and adapt to fit someone else's standard. I begin to see myself differently. It's like someone is holding up a standard - a unit of measure- that I will never reach, and I am bending and jumping to try to attain this goal, a goal only valuable in the world's eyes. I once again must reset my focus.

This is not my standard.
Think.
"Do not conform yourselves any long to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (found in Romans 12:1-2).
I Must THINK. I must renew my mind. It is a battle-field.

So once again I begin to evaluate my life by the standards I've learned from the Bible. How does God see me? Am I a white-washed-tomb?

^{Mathew 23:25-27}
  “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. ²⁶ Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.
   ²⁷ “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. ²⁸ In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.


Am I pretty and presentable on the outside but smell of death on the inside?

Sobering thoughts. Necessary reality check.

I look deep into my life. Past makeup, past neatly fashioned hair, past matching clothes. Past how I appear... to deep within my soul. To who I really am when this skin, this envelope, is torn open and cast aside. What of me will remain? Is it valuable?

I look again and see areas of my soul that need some major house cleaning and others that just need some dusting. Let's face it. We all have these things that need airing out sometimes. So here comes the transparency part. I started thinking about my interactions with my family, and found myself...  falling short.

Then I read an excerpt from something written by Ann Voskamp that made me cry because it explained exactly how I felt I that I am falling short. Here it is. "Because what will the math really matter if they are bitter? If the house is immaculate — but my attitude a mess? If they can count — but they don’t know how to count all things as joy? If we get the lists done, but have lost happiness in Him? How can any grammar skill outweigh the fact they don’t know the language of grace and thanks? What good will it be if they can recite all the major British battles — but they don’t know to see beauty? What am I teaching our children if I’m not living simply, quietly this: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Phil. 4:8). Focusing on what is beautiful, good, true – isn’t this the truest education?"

This explains what I regularly wonder. Am I training these precious little ones well? Am I interacting properly even when I am irritated by their harmless but tangible quirks or when their less-than-angelic attitudes appear? I know we all have these things, and I am certain my parents had to deal with my own faults just as my husband now must deal with some that still linger. I'm a work in progress. So I think that they must be also. Most definitely. So I tend to these thoughts and my reactions regularly, and sometimes have to apologize. The same is true for my marriage. I constantly wonder if I am living as a godly wife. Did I bless my husband today with my words? Were my actions in line with the Word? Did I encourage him? Have I helped him? After all I am his help-meet. I don't know how to do it on my own & often I fail.

So once again I forcibly take my face in my own hands and shift my focus to the cross and what the Bible says I should be like. I turn to the One who can help me. I've been trying to change my heart in these areas through prayer and find it is an on-going battle with my flesh - this skin that is so temporary, but so clingy! However, my flesh is the first thing I am faced with each day when I look in the mirror- so it must be dealt with daily. It's fine to look nice, but the heart of me must match. So I must continue to deny myself - deny my flesh and it's worldly (yet seemingly normal sometimes) cravings. I must deny myself to truly live a full and joyous life.  Living each moment in love, with my eternal future in mind. To live in a way that will last forever because I am following in the footsteps of my friend, Jesus. It's a big standard to live up to, but by grace we are capable with His help.

He can help us live each moment right. Each precious moment.

What if all your moments were numbered and your number would be up soon? I think about this in my life a lot as I try to understand how my folks must feel as my dad battles cancer. My dad's an inspiration to me. He's always been great even with his own faults, but now he has this piercing focus - he knows what really matters. He's apologized to me; he's encouraged me; he's talked to me about what God has said to his heart; he's shared the important things in love and tenderness. He knows that we live life but briefly and we must not live for ourselves. I know this too, living it out is a tougher battle.

Now each day, I re-live moments in my head. Did I speak harshly? Was that kind? How can I encourage my spouse, my kids, my neighbor, myself?  It makes sense to let go of comparisons and worldly standards and to reach for the standard of joy. Joy in serving the One who lifts me up to meet His unit of measurement. One who raises my head when I fall short and feel I can not try again. One who gives fullness of joy. When we figure out the proper focus it all adds up to joy.
JOY = Jesus, Others, You

"The joy of the Lord is our strength."

Looking at each day as if it could be your last always seemed crazy and sad to me before. I understand now. It's not crazy or very sad (though it can be a bit). Living each day as if it were my last feels like a touch of strength. Does that make sense? Living today as if I had no tomorrow in this skin, really propels me towards what really matters.

It's all about focus. What am I looking at? Am I looking towards what I can do in my own power to improve myself? Am I looking at my circumstances? Am I looking at others to see if I match up? Or am I looking deep inside my heart?  Where God's spirit dwells - deep within me.

I want to be living each day as if it were my last - reaching for eternity.

Reaching for God. He is the giver of joy in this life and the next. It's His opinion that matters. He will be the One to decide if I've done well. I'm His - there's no question, but what will I do with this gift of LIFE?

Will I let this gift of LIFE decay as it waits in this shell...?

Or will I hand this life over to the One who made me, and ask Him to shape it into something useful for Him?

Even though the shaping can hurt, it is worth it.

Just like a sculptor chips away at stone or wood to make something useful or beautiful so God chips away at the hardness in my heart and creates a new and wonderful thing. Carve me today, Lord, in the likeness of Your Son, Jesus.

Lord,
I am thankful for the gift of today - for each breath, for the amazing and even sometimes unsightly moments that slip through my fingers. Thank you for the opportunity to learn and to try again. Thank you for the joy of being Your child, Your work in progress. Help me to be who You want me to be.
Love, Laura

Love: the International Language

After living in France for just over two months, I have learned some French but by no means do I speak it well. We've been attending a home prayer group connected with our church here, and since I do not speak well, it feels like pulling teeth for me to attend sometimes. I don't understand everything, and sometimes nothing at all. I want so badly to connect with fellow Christians here (or just other people in general) that I force myself to go even on nights where I've biked home from an exhausting day of class only to eat dinner and head out again. I forced myself to go last night when I was tired even though I knew I would have to drag myself out of bed in the morning for early classes. Dark circles are starting to linger under my eyes on days like these. None-the-less, I long for connection with the Body.

So we went & spent some time chit-chatting. Basically, I listen and say, "Oui." or "Non." Then they began to ask some delicate questions aimed at spiritual growth. I was amazed that I understood this time. Finally, I was able to speak! It was my first time speaking in the group. Mind you it wasn't great French, but it was comprehensible and even followed by questions that indicated I relayed my point well. YAY! I felt like jumping up and down. Maybe I did internally, just a bit. *wink*

Then the true miracle of the the evening happened right in this completely routine other-cultural setting. Another member of the group shared her experience and requested prayer for growth (like the rest of us had). Only, I did not understand most of what she said. I felt lost trying to join in the conversation. Finally, the Spirit of God tugged at my heart and asked me to step out and minister in French. I felt like jerking my head around as if to say, "WHAT!??" I didn't of course (that would have been strange). I simply acknowledged the gentle prodding I felt so many times before in the States when the Lord has led me to share something. Times when He's stepped in and walked on my words to touch the hearts of those who needed it most. This was a time like that.

The only thing I understood was that this woman needed a friend to help her walk with Christ & that she was having some problems with her husband (though I have no idea what). She trembled as she spoke and I could tell this was a difficult thing for her. So again as I was nudged so gently by the most tender invisible hand, I spoke. I ministered to her completely in French (though I had no idea I could say these things and half wondered if I should speak in another tongue and allow the Spirit to take over - ok, if you're not into that, or used to that, stay with me -that's not what happened). So I spoke normal words in French when I was scared out of my wits. God spoke through me.

I told her, "Though I haven't understood everything you've said, I would like to tell you that you're not alone. God will raise up Christians to pray for you." Tears slipped down her cheeks and she quickly brushed them aside. I'm not sure it was anything I did. I simply spoke with conviction because I know that to be true. Just that morning, God woke me up from a dead sleep and called me to pray for a fellow Christian. So then I offered her a tissue and came to sit by her. Next, I did something so natural to me. I hugged her. I wondered if this was odd for the French culture, and then I dismissed that thought and said to myself that I was stepping into another realm. The realm of Love. Where God steps out and touches humanity through tangible hands like mine or yours. The hug was understood. The love was accepted at she wept in my arms with her shoulders heaving. Then the peace came.

She met with God through a new friend last night. And I fulfilled a part of my calling. I am called to "Be a missionary and to take care of His children," whether that be in the deepest parts of Africa or in the country of France. France, who's been slumbering, her people just beginning to awaken, is ready to embrace God's Love. His Love is here in me & in you all through the world. His Love reaches out through us in any language to melt away the stiffness of slumber or to awaken hearts with fire.

Thank You, Lord, for speaking through an ordinary girl like me. Sustain my new French friend and let Your Love continue to spread through the world. Amen.

"Over The Hedge"

One thing our family has noticed about France is that people really like their privacy here. (I know you're thinking, "I thought she was going to write about that movie Over The Hedge. I'm not - sorry.)

French people in general are very private.

If you visit a French person's house, you should not expect to hang out or even help out in the kitchen. You can ask, but if you're told, "no," well, then they really mean it. I once read an article about a French man who grew up and for 25 years had never seen the inside of his grandmother's kitchen. (Usually the kitchen is a separate closed off room.) Only when the grandmother became too frail to carry dishes was he allowed entry into her kitchen.

Another example of French privacy is displayed by their houses. They have these cute little French houses or apartments with quaint little shutters on every window. At dark (around 6 or 6:30 at night) people shut out the world. The shutters are open all day, but at night people barricade themselves inside (they do keep the front door shutters open until they go to bed though - guess that's because of the late dinner hours they keep - maybe expecting a dinner guest? Who knows why. Still the rest of the house is closed up at sundown.)

Mind you, you can't really see into most people's houses anyway even with the shutters open. We're talking major hedges everywhere. They even have people they hire to keep the hedges trimmed. Some are very stunning, but they all serve the purpose of privacy.  Most people here seem to have hedges around their houses. If it's not a six foot plus tall hedge, they will have an even taller fence or wall surrounding the whole yard.

We thought this was all very odd at first. Now we kinda understand a bit more. It seems they do not want to interact with strangers much or have people see into their private lives. This kinda explains why no one will smile or say hello on the street. (People will look at us but keep a straight, almost grim face.) I've been told that the French, in general, think it is fake and impersonal to greet someone if you don't already know them. (There is of course the exception of greetings between a shop keeper and a customer.)

It's a different world if you know someone though. It's very friendly and polite. French people have beautiful smiles - you'll never see one unless you personally know them though. I am starting to like this extra privilege we get when we know someone. They will greet us with a bis (the French cheek kisses) and begin a personal conversation. Not having a daily dose of smiles and greetings on the street causes me to appreciate my acquaintances and friendships more. It's almost like I'm being allowed entry over their hedge.

I do have to say that one place we feel very welcome is at our French church here. We've found that a gathering of believers is a cherished thing, and people are very friendly and welcoming. There are fewer initial hedges for brothers and sisters in Christ. Talking about hedges so much makes me wonder about myself, "Are there any areas of my heart that I have boarded up or surrounded with a hedge. A small part that I am not willing for even God to see?" (If that were possible. Ecclesiates 12:14 says, "For God will bring every deed into judgment, including ever hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.") I need to take inventory again and make sure my favorite Guest feels welcome in my heart. I have allow Him to go "Over the Hedge" of my heart.