In a mere 24 hours, I'll be in France. Oh my soul. I just can't wait to go back to Paris, to see Normandy, to walk around Nice, Annecy and Geneva. I just let out a deep, deep sigh - incase you didn't hear me.
Over the last few weeks, as I've been preparing for our trip, I've journaled several times the following thought: I can't believe this is my life! Seriously, though, is it? I think of where I have come from, what I've learned, what my dreams were. I see how sweetly the Lord lead me and taught me and grew me along the way. I'm able to see, maybe not the whole plan, but little bits and pieces coming together. Of my life, planned kindly, thoughtfully and gracefully by Him.
Paris was a dream to me seven years ago. It was the place for me to go. After watching Sabrina (with Harrison Ford, not Audrey, mind you) that was it. Paris it was. I was going to get there, live there, grow there. As you know, that's not how things worked out for me. But I love the life the Lord has given me so much more.
I love that Patrick is my knight in shining armor. I love that he and I are best friends, soul mates, if you will, and complete opposites :) I love that we both love to travel. I love that we travel well together. I love that we made a baby together. I love that B gets to see France for the first time tomorrow, although he won't remember it. I love that I get to smell the goodness of Paris, once again. I love that I get to see the eiffel tower towering over me and thousands of other admirers.
My heart longs for rainy days in Paris. For a cup of coffee and some incredible pastry and a good book. I would love to stare out my Parisan apartment kitchen window as my fresh vegetables saute and my stuffed cabbage stews away and my bread slowly rises. Doesn't that just sound lovely? And while I know my kitchen window is perfect for staring out, there's just something about Paris - to me - and I can't shake it. I'm very okay with this. :)
As we get everything packed, as we make sure our passports are in hand, as I make sure there are enough things to entertain and nourish a 13 months old, Paris waits for me. Big ole Paris, waiting for little ole me. That is a thought that I love to think!
Oh - you may, or may not, hear from me over the next 2 weeks. I'll be bumbling around France and would love to update you, if circumstances allow. Let me just see how that goes! Until next time...