I woke up yesterday, ready to take on the day…at around 1pm.
I had stayed up until a little past 3 the night before doing homework and
preparing for the next day, and I was pretty tired. Plus I had to keep getting
up – to eat the breakfast I paid for, to pay for a new room, to answer a few
e-mails. Anyways, I had to talk myself into sleeping another hour or two
because of those interruptions. It wasn’t hard.
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| Me at the French American School of Rhode Island where I first learned the language. A real blessing. |
What made it easier was that I had nothing on my schedule
until 6pm. So, I spent the time until 5 (my walk to the church takes about 40
minutes) doing more work. I also walked down the street to a McDonald’s I had
discovered for a quick 30 minute break and lunch. To be honest, besides the
food, it was on another level from the Golden Arches we know and love in the
United States (by the way I love their food back home, so I was okay with that
part not changing). It was spotless, and everywhere inside there were ordering
machines like the ones at Sheetz and Wawa, in case you were not in the mood to
wait in line. The only negative was the price. There was no dollar menu! (I
know!!!) They had a small menu on the side of about 5 selections, but each of
those were 2€
(which, in USD, is coming up on $3. Try to imagine a $3 menu.)
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| McDonald's is so clean here! |
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| For those who don't feel like waiting in line |
5 came around relatively quickly, and it was time to go. I
left just after 5:20, and by now I was actually starting to enjoy my long walks
to and from my destinations. I arrived at the church at exactly 6pm, and found
the pastor in his office, doing some work as he waited for me. I sat down on
one of the couches in the small office facing him, and we began to speak. I
understood that this was no small thing that he was doing for me; everything
about what I am trying to do is out of the ordinary. And having only
communicated to this point through the mail and e-mail, this was his first real
opportunity to judge my character. So, I just tried to be respectful, and be
myself. We spoke in more detail than before about my internship – what I’ll be
doing, how he can help specifically, how long I’ll be staying etc. Then I asked
him some questions about his background, how he came to know Christ, and how
and why he became a pastor, after which he proceeded to ask me some questions
about myself and Liberty. We spoke for about half an hour, and much to my
surprise he was clearly able to understand me and I him (this was by far the
longest one-on-one conversation I’d had in French in years). Actually, when I
apologized for my level of proficiency in the language, he told me it was “very
good” (I knew he wasn’t just saying it to make me feel good, because he hadn’t
once asked for clarification, and neither had I. Honestly, I think I already
knew I wasn’t bad, I just wouldn’t allow myself the privilege of believing it!
Not yet anyways.) I really needed to
hear that, especially from someone who is actually from France. I finally could
feel confident and unapologetic when I spoke here – another answer to prayer (I
know I’m not God’s gift to French, but I know now that I can carry on a normal
conversation, understand and be understood. Is that not the basis of
communication?).
After we spoke for a while, he gave me a tour around the
building. It was small, but somehow they were able to fit 3 rooms, an office, a
small kitchen, and a sanctuary in the small area provided. I love to read, so
since we still had just under a half hour until the Youth Group started, I
asked if I could look at some of the books (he had a couple pretty large bookcases
completely packed with books).
Finally, 7 came around, and people started filing in. Everyone was so gracious, and thankfully I was not the only newcomer of the night! I met and spoke to almost everyone who came in and I could tell that they were real; that they took their faith seriously. But, then came the moment…the “Bises” (Sounds close to “bees”) – the classic kiss on both cheeks that the French are famous for. I don’t think I’ve done it to a man yet – still just a little too much for me (haha!), and at that time I thought that you only did it to people you know. But apparently, you do it to everyone! So a girl came in, walked towards me, and leaned forward. The first one went off okay, but in classic Sachem fashion, the next girl that came up didn’t. I actually missed her cheek. (How do you do that?) I was all air. I got the second cheek, but I basically explained to her that I was an American and I haven’t done that before, so please excuse the fact that I am me and I am clumsy and can’t kiss someone on the cheek. (Ridiculous. Still don’t know how I missed. Her. Cheek.) But it was actually okay, because a couple minutes later she came up to me in complete innocence and said “On fait pas les bises aux États-Unis?” | “You don’t that in America?” Clearly, I better pick this up fast.
We sat down in a
circle of chairs at the front of the sanctuary, and we dove in. The passage of
study this time was Jacques (James) 2:14-26. So, as I’m sure a lot of my friends
at Liberty would be delighted to hear, we talked about losing one’s salvation.
It was a wonderful discussion, and the pastor lead us through using the
Socratic method of teaching – having us arrive at our conclusions through a
series of questions. I understood what was being said, but I did make the
mistake of trying to contribute when we broke into small groups. I had so much
I wanted to say, but in trying to do so I found the limits of my current French
language. Theology is hard to explain in English! Thankfully, the topic is
confusing enough that I didn’t make things any worse.
After a solid time of prayer, we (to my surprise) ate
dinner! This would be my first real French meal, as all I’d eaten to that point
was McDonald’s, bread, pizza from that Italian restaurant, and close to the
triple digits in Snickers from the vending machine in my hotel (now that I
think about it, that wasn’t too bad of a diet…). Afterwards, because it was
someone’s birthday, we had dessert! And of course, one of the desserts was
Apple Pie. French. Apple. Pie. (Yes, I actually am spending the semester in
heaven, since you asked.) I told someone it was my favorite, and against my
will they literally forced me to eat like 4 pieces (I’m serious, although it’s
not that I didn’t want more, it’s that I didn’t want to be rude. So I willingly
let them force me to eat apple pie against my will…)
Throughout the night, I spent most of my time speaking with
one of my new friends in particular. He was around 35 (it wasn’t really a youth
group like they have in America, actually I was the youngest one there), and he
was one of those people who you can tell has hidden His Word in their heart. It
just oozed out of him. He also was very interested in Revelation and the end
times, as am I. We spoke about the anti-christ, about the blood moon last fall,
about Israel, about America and what she is becoming, about Hollande and Obama.
But he continually said over and over again that it was a great honor for him
to meet an American Christian. That he was quite fond of our country, and it
has been a dream of his to meet someone from there who knew Christ. He had no
idea.
He and my friend whose cheek I missed (I think they’re
dating…) dropped me back off at my hotel at midnight (yes, it went from
7-midnight, and we were the first ones to leave). As I headed back up to my
room, I was once again filled with gratitude for what the LORD has been doing
so far. In truth, with everything I’ve experienced and everyone I’ve met, I can
honestly say it that the honor and pleasure have been mine.
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