Can I Get a Do Over?

A friend wrote me about a week ago and said that when she thinks of me, she imagines that my life is "lovely, romantic, and purposeful."  I laughed to myself about that and thought about how, on the internets, we always seem to put our best face forward, and nobody seems to know the truth.  The real life.  My life comes across as this:

...and this:

Well, this week was not "lovely and romantic and purposeful." It was not reading in the park with my feet up and blue skies and golden sun coming down on the port.  How about a little reality?

{Tuesday}

• Started the day by having blood drawn (always a fun way to start a day, isn't it?) and then having no one show up for my class.
• During lunch, had a difficult disagreement with someone that was rapidly spinning towards ugly when someone graciously (unknowingly) interrupted us and brought us back to civility.  Still, the conversation was upsetting and left me riled up for the rest of the day.
• Because of that conversation, I became utterly distracted, and left my phone not once, but twice, at locations and didn't realize it until I was already across town, making it difficult to retrace my steps to retrieve it.
• I took the metro going the wrong direction (never done that in Marseille before), and didn't realize it until I was about 7 stops away from where I needed to be.

{Wednesday}

• The jewelry class/micro-loan project came to a crash and burn end during a difficult meeting with the women.  Discouraging.
• Another difficult conversation with someone that left my mind reeling and wishing I could just start the week over.  

{Thursday}

• My 7 year old faithful hair straightener had a heart attack and died quite suddenly...halfway through straightening my hair.  Hello, ponytail for the day...
• Went to the doctor to discuss how I'm doing with the medical treatment I'm currently on for six months.  I told her I've been having bad headaches everyday as a side effect (there are many side effects with this medication--it's very unpleasant, but ultimately effective), and so she lowered my dosage...and extended the amount of time I have to take it to seven months.  Bummer.
• Headed from there to the gym, where I planned to deliver the letter from the doctor stating that I couldn't continue my membership because of this medication.  (I'd gone a few weeks ago to ask how to end my membership, and they'd said just bring in the letter.)  They now told me that I had to send the doctor's note with a letter from myself asking to end my membership via certified receipt mail...which utterly made me mad at the ridiculous paperwork system here in France.  Tirades galore.  A person can't just end a membership because they don't want to be a member anymore...they have to jump through 8 hoola hoops, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they'll get their desired outcome.
• From the gym, I went to the vegetable market to buy my lunch.  Upon return to my house, realized that they'd cheated me on my veggies, which, after how the morning was going, caused me to burst into tears.
• Washing my dishes after lunch, a plate slipped from my hand in the sink and shattered into several pieces.  
• Opened my work email to find that I'd been asked (that morning) to complete several reports before a due date next week...except that I would be leaving on Sunday evening for the week...and thus had to get them all done within a 4 day period of which I'd already had a long list of things to do... Ugg.

{Friday}

• Woke up with a head cold that has progressively worsened since then, making it impossible to breathe.  However, because of aforementioned medication, I cannot take a decongestant, and thus...am pretty pitiful at the moment.

Add to all that the stress that has come with the world events this week, especially in that I live in France and work with Algerians.  There's a tension in the air as the Algerians fear a backlash, and the French fear attacks.  I'd dare say there is also a sadness and hopelessness in the air, as I've heard so many people say that they just don't know how the current situation is going to be resolved, and they don't know what the best answer is.

I know what the best Answer is, and it's why I'm here, it's why I do what I do.  I've been asked several times in the past few weeks if I would come home because of all that's going on in this part of the world right now and thought--"Nope...what's going on is exactly why I'm here."

Needless to say, though, it was a difficult week.  God's been good to me, and so every evening, a good friend would call me up just to talk and see how I was doing.  The camelridingcowgirl called.  Creedance called.  Moonunit from India called.  Eskimo called.  My parents called.  I felt loved.

And so life isn't always lovely, romantic and purposeful here.  (Honestly, I don't know that it's ever romantic, hahahahaha.)  But I do realize how blessed I am.  I have all that I need.  I've got good people.  I know the Answer.

And...tonight I get on a sleeper train and will wake up in Switzerland, and will spend the next five days staring at the Alps and Lake Lucerne.  And that is very lovely.

La Folle Epoque

This summer, I had several different friends come to visit.  Some had been before and knew what they wanted to do.  Some had never been and thus let me suggest places to go.  Because of how tired I was after a long (but good) semester of work, and a summer full of interns, I didn't really think through the visits, and just went to all my favorite places.  It never occurred to me to try new places.

As soon as they left, I regretted that.  I'm leaving France in less than a year, and so the bucket list of "must do before I leave" has begun forming in my mind.  Why didn't I take advantage of having someone to go places with to go to these places that I've noticed for years but never had the courage to try somewhere new?

Well, a few weeks ago, on a day when I was pouting a bit about missing all my friends who have left, thecamelridingcowgirl called me up from jolly ole England and said, "Guess what?!  I'm coming to Marseille this weekend!"  Yay!  So while she was here, I knew she'd be up for trying a new place with me.  Instead of getting coffee at Starbucks, we went to La Folle Epoque.

I've passed by it a million times, and always adored the Art Nouveau front, and have even peered through the windows to check out the interior, but I've never gone in.  

I don't normally just go hang out in cafes...I'd rather just drink the free coffee in my quiet comfortable apartment.  But if I'm going to go out with someone for coffee, this is now one place I'm going to suggest instead of Starbucks.  For cheaper coffee, we can stare at the ceiling...

There are no tourists to annoy us while we stare at the mirrors...

Although I might be tempted to try to steal this gorgeous wall hanging to put in my hallway...

Even the sign for the bathroom is in Art Nouveau style...

And the doors to the toilets are awesome too!

My favorite part, though, is probably the bar.  It's just so pretty!  For 1euro50, I can sit in cushy chairs and be surrounded by Art Nouveau beauty.

Stay tuned throughout the next year for more Marseille bucket list items...

My 10 Most Influential Books

There's a thing going around on Facebook to list the 10 books which have influenced you most in life.  I've thought about it, and I thought it would be fun to post them here, with a small explanation of why.  So, if you're wanting something to read, here are some things I would recommend.

1.  The Bible.  Need I explain why this is the #1 book that has influenced my life?  It gives me wisdom, hope, joy, guidance, and life.  It helps me to know God.  It is how I hear from God.  It helps me pray when I don't have words to pray.  I can't imagine not reading it.

2.  Radical by David Platt.  I say Radical, but I'd include his Follow Me in with Radical, because I recommend both.  This book changed how I look at how I spend my money and my time.  It directly challenged me to sponsor a child through Compassion, something that now brings me great joy.

3.  Passion & Purity, by Elisabeth Elliott.  This book led me to read many other books by Elliott, and introduced many thoughts and lifestyles while in college that I still follow and abide in today.  Through Elliott's book, I was introduced to other writers that greatly impacted me, and to reading biographies of great people, and it all started with reading Passion & Purity.

4.  Desiring God, by John Piper.  At first, it was hard to choose which Piper book most influenced me.  All of his books (and blog posts and articles and sermons and tweets and etc.) have had a great impact on my spiritual life.  But, I think if one reads Desiring God, they've gotten the gist of most of his other books.  And since his blog, which is called Desiring God, is the probably the most influential blog for me, I went with that title.

5.  To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee.  Not only is this one of my top 5 favorite novels, but it's also the one I have read the most often.  It stirs up strong feelings in me (positive and negative) about being from Alabama.  It gives me hope that racism can be overcome (Atticus Finch).  It helps me not judge those I don't understand (Boo Radley).  It reminds me how teachable children are (Scout Finch).  I just love it.  I might go pick it up and read it right now.

6.  Christian Theology, by Millard Erickson.  Please don't laugh at how nerdy I am.  But I promise I read every single word of that fatty fatty book, to the point that I started calling it my boyfriend, since I carried it everywhere, devoured all its words, and even fell asleep with it from time to time.  Did I love the book?  Nope, that's why we eventually broke up, haha.  But--I'm so glad I read it, and while I read it, I began to figure out what I believed.  I stopped going along with what others believed simply because that was the direction of the current...but I figured out for myself and have been able to stand by it since then.  Even more, if I didn't figure it out then, or have since become confused on what I think about something theologically, Erickson's book gave me the tools to figure out what I believe.

7.  1000 Gifts, by Ann Voskamp.  Sort of like Platt and Piper, it was more Voskamp's overall teaching that has influenced me more than just her book in particular.  A few years before I read her book (or knew anything about her), I was trying to figure out a way to cultivate a continual attitude of gratitude.  Her methods of counting gifts gave me what I was looking for.

8.  Honeymoon in Purdah, by Alison Wearing.  This is a memoir of a woman who traveled around Iran, and her impressions of the people and culture.  A friend of mine gave it to me in the wake of 9/11 when I was, like most Americans, wondering all about Islam and Muslims and why people would want to blow up our country.  My friend, knowing that most Muslims aren't like what we see on the news, gave me the book to show me the normal (and I would add, positive) side of Muslim people.  That book began my love for a people that continues until today.

9.  The Book That Must Not Be Named.  You who have read it know to which book I refer.  I don't know a better novel about courage, friendship, loyalty, good vs evil, and sacrifice.  And further more, it's just so much fun and so well written and etc., that truth be told: I'm actually in the middle of it right now.

10.  The Baptist Hymnal.  This is a weird one to put on the list, I imagine, but here's the thing: Music greatly influences my heart, my attitude, and my worship.  And hymns, more than any other type of music, influence me the most.  I even had one year that I read through the Baptist Hymnal as part of my daily quiet time.  It was like reading theological poetry and it was wonderful.

What books have most influenced you?  What do you think of the books I listed?

Kirbiegirl

My season of goodbyes continued yesterday as I said goodbye to my flatmate of the past 10 weeks: Kirbie the dog.  The Superheroes were in the US, and I volunteered to let Kirbiegirl have a summer holiday in the south of France with me.  I've taken care of Kirbie before, but it was only for 2 weeks.  I've had Kirbie in my Marseille apartment before, but the Superheroes were here with her.  This was my first time to take care of a dog for more than just a few weeks.  There were tears a few times (she was in heat 4 of the 10 weeks), there were a few accidents (more often my fault than hers, not getting her outside early enough in the morning...but a few times were her rebellious stubborn nature trying to show who was the Alpha dog in the house), there was plenty of laughter, and oh so much the sound of little pitter patter feet on my floors.

Proverbs 12:10 took on new meaning over the summer for me.  It says, "Whoever is righteous has regard for the life of his beast."  Within a few days of when Kirbiegirl arrived in Marseille, there was a crazy hail storm unlike anything I had ever seen.  It was thrilling to watch and listen to, except that my poor little beast was shivering with fear in my lap.  

Then the Algerians won a futebol match during the World Cup and the honking madness began outside my window.  I'll admit: on Bastille night, I actually prayed for her that she wouldn't be too frightened by all the fireworks.  (I put her in my back bedroom, where it's normally pretty quiet from the street noise, and turned on two fans in the room on high, hoping it would cover the noise.)  One night, for who knows what reason, she had a nightmare, and I sat up at 3am holding her and telling her that it would be alright.  During the weeks that she was in heat, and she would look at me with the most pitiful eyes...I tried to keep assuring her that it would get better eventually...as if she understood me.  There were days that I felt like I was being so silly, caring for this little beast of a cutie patoottie dog, but then I remembered Proverbs 12:10.  God's righteousness in me made me care when she was scared or sick or stubborn.

This was pretty much her favorite spot to sit before she went into heat:

Seriously...if my feet were up, she was jumping up to get on my legs.  Goober little beast.

I suppose sitting on my legs is better than the time she got on my chest while I was trying to read a book.  Note the extremely long tongue trying to kiss me.  Goodness me, what a sweet little beast.

So what did she really want when she would climb on me?  For me to pet her belly.  This is was her typical "pet me! pet me! pet me!" posture:

People would ask me if I was like the French ladies who take their dogs around with them into places of business.  Yup!  Kirbiegirl loves riding in this wicker purse.  Once she sees it, you can't do anything but put her in it.  Here we are on our way back from the train station where we bought some train tickets.  

Her hair started to get long enough that it was getting in her eyes and bothering her.  I eventually gave her a haircut (which looked terrible, by the way, haha).  But I had a little fun with her before I brought out the scissors:

You know that whole theory that pet owners look like their dogs?  Well if it's true, I must be pretty cute!  I mean, look at that sweet little face!

So one of the most fun parts about having Kirbiegirl around was playing with her and her coin.  She's an easy dog--she doesn't need fancy, expensive toys.  Give her a 20cent coin (about the size of a nickel), and she's happy for hours.  Seriously.  She'll play fetch with it with others:

Or she'll play by herself with it for hours.  She would scratch the carpet to make it pop in the air, and then catch it in her mouth.  And no, she doesn't swallow the coin...she just holds it between her teeth. When I would get tired of playing it with her, I'd put the coin up on the fireplace...and she would climb up on the arm of the couch and bark and growl in the direction where it was until I gave it back to her!  Silly dog.

So one of not-so-favorite parts of having Kirbiegirl was taking her for a drag walk.  In the house, she would be the sweetest, cutest, most obedient little thing you ever did meet.  (Seriously, she understood the command, "No bark" and would quiet up!)  But out on the street, it was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  She would turn into the most stubborn mule of a dog ever, putting all four of her paws into full brake mode so that I literally had to drag her down the street.  I never got a good picture of it, but this one is close:

One of the things that Kirbiegirl, if she could talk, would say that she did not enjoy about living with me is bath time.  I bathed her often, because I didn't want my house to smell like dog.  She would be obedient and submissive in the tub, but she would give me these eyes that screamed, "Why are you betraying our friendship like this?"  Seriously, those eyes made me feel like I was abusive and cruel.  It probably didn't help that I was laughing at how she looked like a drowned rat:

Here she is after I gave her a haircut and bath.  Doesn't she look mad at me?!  But she smelled so nice...

Usually, after baths, she would lay on the floor and pout for a few hours like this:

This morning, when it was time for her to leave, it was like she knew we were saying goodbye.  She kept kissing my feet and when I picked her up she tried to kiss my face.  

Me and my sweet girl.  I miss her.  Kirbiegirl, you're welcome back anytime...as long as you don't go into heat again!