Becoming, away from home.

It's spring. It can try to hide, run away, lie, and disguise itself in colder weather, but I know the truth: spring has arrived. Now, for those of you living back in Canada, I do (sort of) apologize for how unkind/unwelcome that statement may be. However, it's the truth. Today it is between 13 and 15 degrees celsius. Tomorrow is supposed to be around 18. It's sunny, with a slight breeze (hardly), and just plain beautiful. Mom (I assume you read my blog...), if I were at home, this would be a hang-the-laundry-on-the-line day. 

I am very thankful.

Two things, though.

1. I'm not at home. I'm reminded of that oh-so-often. It's not just that dull ache that sits around, reminding me that I miss my friends and family. It's not only the fact that I don't see front yards wherever I go. It's not only the fact that a different language is spoken here. Here's what has hit me more recently: the birds. As spring arrives, so do the birds and their songs. This is definitely a welcome addition to my life. However, I don't recognize these birds. It's like another whisper of "This is not your home." They're not robins. I actually rarely see them, but I do hear them. They sound lovely, but they're not "my" spring birds. 

I was thinking about this the other day, and it occurred to me how much this year is capable of showing me what it should sort of be like for us as Christians living in this world. We state that "this world is not our home" and that when someone dies, they are "going home." Now, I don't plan on dying to get myself home this time. I'd prefer to be alive when I get to see that "Welcome to Canada" sign. However, I've never really understand that "not my home" part. Now I think I'm beginning to grasp the concept.

2. This year I've been working through what I have dubbed "identity crises," "quarter-life crises" and the like. I don't know if those are fair names, but they seem like it to me, so that is what I'm sticking with. They bubble up mostly at the times when I feel the least capable of communicating in French. When I have those times of doubt, my head panics and I begin wondering if it's actually possible for me to teach French. I know that I can teach things, I know that I have the correct knowledge of French to pass on to students, but I don't know how to communicate that knowledge. 

It's an odd situation for me to be in. I've always been the annoying one who knew what I wanted to do in life. Now I'm questioning it. Not completely. I still want to teach. It's just that the closer I get to the reality of it all, the more scary it seems. I keep reminding myself of how much I enjoyed my placement last year. It also makes me ask a question. I know that God works through our weaknesses. However, this question arises: where is the line between simply a weakness that God can use and going down the wrong career path? And how do you know the difference? 

Just some thoughts that have been wandering around in my head as of late. 

On a somewhat of a side-note, thanks to the time change that many of you have recently experienced, we (Ontario and France) are now only 5 hours apart instead of 6 for the next 2 weeks. We switch on the 27th.

Blessings on your week.

~Lynette

Laughter is the best medicine...

February. 


Beginning of classes. Introduction to a new teacher, new classmates, new classroom. Always fun. 


In all truthfulness, my classes are going well so far. My grammar class is interesting. I'm a little concerned about the fact that our prof wants us all to do a debate by the end of the semester. The debate, between 2 people, I believe, should last 1 hour. That makes me a little nervous. However, that's not until later in the semester and so for now I am trying to ignore it. The rest of the class is going well, my prof makes me laugh usually at least once a day, and I am most definitely learning things. This is good.


My conferences are nothing to be super excited about, but I haven't really had enough of them yet to give a fair judgment of their quality. I don't start phonetics until the end of the month. (It's a rough life...)


We had a weekend with the young adults from church last weekend. It was a good time to get to know some of them better and to enjoy community with others who believe what I do. It was outside of Paris and I enjoyed a couple short, wonderful walks in the forest between the centre where we stayed and the train station. 

Écouen-Ézanville. The suburb-type town where the retreat was held.

Snow drops. Yay for spring!

March.


The 3rd-last month. The month with no holidays. Not even a long weekend. I know, my life is super tough. (Yes, I'm kidding.) The "little" sister's birthday month. She's turning 20 this year. My parents will no longer be parents of teenagers. (Not to try to make you feel old or anything, Mom & Dad.) 


Apparently March is the beginning-of-spring month in Paris, at least for this year. We are enjoying consistently 7-11 degree weather with promises here and there of 15 degrees. And sun. Oh the sun. I am very happy to be seeing it around more often these days. Paris is nicer with it. 


March brings with it the promise this year that I get to go home and see my family and friends in less than 3 full months. For those girls who have just arrived, this is not so much of a welcoming idea, but Erica & I are very much looking forward to going home. It is still bitter-sweet, though. There are things I will miss. Mostly people, really. But that's how it goes. While I'm here, I miss my friends and my family. When I go back home, I'll miss the new friends that I've made. There's not really a better way of doing it unless I can take the people that I love from each place with me no matter where I go, and that's not possible. So for now I'll enjoy my time that I have left with friends here and I'll be thankful to see everyone back home in a few months. 


This past weekend, all the Redeemer-in-France girls got together for an afternoon together. We needed to take pictures for the yearbook. We do enjoy spending time together, though. That was just the reason for making it happen now. We took many pictures and I will only put up a few (probably still too many), otherwise this will turn into a photo album and not a glimpse of life here. We laughed. Like the title says, laughter is the best medicine. It's good to do now and again. 

All of us Redeemer in France (RIF) girls. If you can see us.

Beautiful. Welcome to spring. 

The one-semester RIF girls: Martha, April & Maria.

This was a process with many humourous pictures along the way. 

I'm only going to show the success here, though. 

First-semester roommates. We don't like each other very much.

Just kidding. We do like each other. :)

Lynette, Erica, Rachel.

1-year RIF girls.

And I think that's about it. There isn't much else happening these days. My life is pretty normal. I'm a student, going to school, in a city. That's my life. Well, that's the obvious part of it. Anyway, I hope you are having a good beginning to the first full week of March. 


Remember to laugh often.


~Lynette