Crazy Disciple

Getting back - Chapter 2

I promise that I won't write about jet lag every day for the next week, although there is something about sleep, or lack thereof that brings a certain focus to a person's mind.   It's nearly 9am and I have been awake since 4:30, after finally falling asleep around 2...   My brain is just all messed up.  

In the absence of time-recognition and circadian rhythm, I found myself walking towards the nearest boulangerie this morning around 7:30.  It's a favorite spot of mine, and Mark's too, and we often have breakfast there together when he is in town.   This morning however, it was just me, and also much earlier than normal.  I ordered my favorite french pastry, croissant almond, and noticed the unexpected music pouring out of the Place de la Republique, the large square that sits just north of our apartment.  It seems that a manifestation, or a strike was already forming and somehow these unhappy people had missed the opportunity to be wrangled-in by the usual treasure trove of armor laden police.  There was no tear gas, nor riot shields to taint this pleasurable morning, instead it was just people whom felt the need to voice their displeasure. 

I've been back in Paris now for a little more than two days, and amazingly my understanding of the French culture had taken an interesting turn while visiting Tulsa.   While having coffee with my Parisian friend in Tulsa whom was also my French teacher, I giggled aloud as I shared the stories of the countless manifestations I have encountered in France, and how they all seemed so pointless.  She didn't share the laugh with me, and instead looked a bit irritated.  "What's so funny about it" she asked, trying not to get mad but instead to perhaps understand my perspective.   I tried to explain why it was that I found the situation funny, and instead just realized that I should tone down the rhetoric and instead listen a bit.  So I turned the tables, "You obviously don't find it funny... perhaps you could help me understand it more."

Alexandra began to explain the history, and it suddenly made sense.  "It all started back in 1789" she shared, "when the French people had just taken too much, and they had stayed quiet too long."  1789 was the year of the French revolution, when the Bastille was stormed, the King and Queen beheaded, and the end of the idea of absolute monarchy in France.  "Ever since then," she continued, "whenever there is a feeling of displeasure and uncertainty, we take to the streets and ensure that what happened then will never happen again." 

Hearing these words, a cloud of understanding and compassion came over me.  This was not about a culture holding on to a sense of entitlement, but moreover a demand for continued freedom and power of the people, by the people, and for the people...   wow, that sound's familiar.  So today, as I stood at the boulangerie and waited for my order to be filled, I smiled at the sound of the manifestation gathering just up the street.  Perhaps my attitude about these things has forever been changed...  perhaps it is only changed for today.  I guess we will just have to see.   In the meantime however, I continue to open my eyes to a new but yet old way of life, and learn as much as I can about what it means to be French. 

Why France? The frightening facts.

This video sums up why we simply MUST share the gospel in France and in Europe. We must build churches, we must share truth, we must help people... There are missionaries, church planters, pastors and believers all over Europe trying to fight this battle, and they desperately need all of our help.  Help raise up their hands through financial support, prayer, and tons of love and communication.  Be a part of the solution...   the revolution is upon us. 

What day is it?

One of the secret, or not-so-secret gifts of hopping all over the world is Jet Lag.  I had it pretty bad when I traveled to the states two weeks ago, and was just getting adjusted to that clock when I turned around and came back to Paris.   The result is a highly-confused inner clock that doesn't know which day it is, nor if I am to be asleep or awake.  The confusion results in neither the awake or sleeping states being very fulfilling...   man it is hilarious. 

For example, I arrived back in Paris yesterday afternoon at 1:30 PM.   I had the pleasure of sleeping two hours on the plane over, and then waking up to a dose of bright sun from the wonderful man sitting on the opposite side of the plane.   Knowing that I needed to fight off the jet lag, I forced myself to stay awake once I arrived in Paris, until 10pm at least.   I actually made it until 10:30, PARTY!!!   So I crashed hard at 10:30, but then woke back up at 12:30 and could get back to sleep for another three hours (at least.)  Now, it is morning here in Paris, well it's actually mid-morning (10:44am) and it feels like the middle of the night (minus the bright sunshine pouring through the window next to me.)  Hopefully, I will adjust back much faster than my transition to the states.  Either way, it is all worth it.   It was so much fun to be home in Tulsa with all my family and friends!   See you all again REALLY SOON!

On the road again

Today marks two weeks since I have arrived in Tulsa, and it also marks my departure to head back to Paris.   What an amazing time this has been, to be with my family and friends and to share so many meals and conversations with them all.  I was blessed to stay with Pastor Mike and the Goolsbay family, and I have to admit they are some of the best hosts I have ever stayed with...  wow, they sure know how to make a guy feel loved.  

These last two weeks have gone by so fast, so much faster than I even expected.  It seems that every meal was used to connect with someone I had been missing, and that coupled with a TON of coffee and diet coke, I never once was hungry or thirsty...  nor ever feeling lonely in the slightest.  Maybe that is a good sign of what it means to be home.

While in the States, my Dad was so kind as to loan me a Ford F-150 and I have to tell you that driving that beast around after living in Paris was quite a shock.  I think that truck is actually bigger than my flat back in Paris!   It was awesome to get to drive again though, and just listen to music and feel the wind of a warm (91F) spring (?) day. 

I was able to visit my old dog Sam and pleased to find that he has moved on and is happy in his new home.   Well, truthfully, pleased was not the immediate feeling I had, but knowing that I prefer him to be happy over sitting around moping and wishing I was there.   And for the record, I say "old dog," not because he is old, but because it was just really obvious that he is not my dog anymore.  Truthfully it was just a reminder that life goes on, whether we are there to watch it, or not. 

So in just a few hours I will be boarding a plane back to Paris, and back to a life in the French lane.   It will be good to get back, but also hard to leave here again.  This time however, the departure will be much less traumatic than seven months ago...  I am no longer diving into the unknown, to a country, language, culture and world that is only imagined...   Instead, I am headed back to what is now my home...   Paris.

Man it feels good to be at Destiny this morning.

Friends

Man, I nearly don't even need to write more than that.   Last night, and all day yesterday, I hung out with friends...  incredible friends.  It was amazing.   It feels good to be home. 

A happy site

Well, I made it to the plane and even boarded without a hitch. This
short trip back home to Tulsa has already proved entertaining. It's
amazing how easy it is to pick out other Americans in the airport, and
apparently my French pronunciation is improving as I fooled a few
people into speaking French with me... Sweet!

Well this goofy picture is a happy start to the plane leg of this
trip. Not only is there just enough legroom on this 767, but there is
also an empty seat beside me!

Alright, time to turn off all electonic devices and move all seatbacks
to the upright and locked position. Next stop, Cincinnati... Then I
get to use my American phone again!! Woohoo!

Au revoir Paris, see you in two weeks!

A glimpse of Easter

This is the video that played behind the band from Easter this week.   The main character is David McCord, Pastor Mark's son... and now star.   It was a great service, and even more exciting was the journey of making this video...   I think we are going to have to make another, it was simply too powerful of an experience.

Because He Lives

Happy Easter Weekend!   It all officially starts today with Good Friday, and the busiest church season of the year will take place over the next three days.   This year, being my first year with C3Paris for Easter, it is sure to be memorable.  

The band at C3Paris will be doing a special version of the old hymn "Because He Lives" that uses both English and French, which is sure to be cool... and behind that, we will be showing a video comprised of video elements and still photos all built around this phrase "Because He Lives" but written in French "Parc Qu-Il Vit!!"

So, David McCord and I have been walking all around Paris with a video camera and still camera, and asking people if they would hold this sign for us.   It's amazing how many strange excuses people give as to why they won't.   Man, I keep thinking of how easy this would be in Tulsa...  but I guess that is the whole reason we are HERE instead of there.   Anyway, the idea is to represent all the people that Christ lives for, and has died for; I think the idea is good, but the execution is crazy hard.  It's a good way to walk around Paris however and talk about God pretty freely.  Here are a couple of the shots:

TV Suicides

There aren't too many American TV shows that I can actually keep up with in France, the over-dubbed rebroadcasts are a few years behind, and the more current stuff is nearly impossible to see, even online.  (FYI Hulu and network sites do not allow streaming of video content outside of the United States.)  One of the few exceptions is House, which I splurged on at the beginning of the season and bought a subscription to it on iTunes.  As a result, I watch the episodes a few days after everyone, and only on my computer, but I still get to keep up with my favorite curmudgeon.   If you haven't watched this weeks episode, then maybe you should stop here because I am going to spoil it. 

So, all of that to explain how I know about Kutner's suicide in this weeks episode.  I actually watched this late last night as I was heading to sleep, and was simply floored by the developments.   There are a few web sites out there that are claiming House "Jumped the Shark" or did something stupid to increase ratings, but from the perspective of a person who has been touched by a few suicides in a few years, the whole scenario felt all too real.   The complete surprise, the lack of understanding, the overwhelming shock...   it was portrayed fairly well, especially for a show that is usually riddled with tongue-in-cheek humor. 

It will be interesting to see how this is truly dealt with, as the series completes it's season.   I have a sneaking feeling that the writers have experienced something like this in their own lives, otherwise they might have made some different choices in this story line.  As a result of that (assumed) first-hand experience, I would venture to say that they will remain true to form, and leave ALL of the questions unanswered, and the repercussions of such a loss, such a mindless, and unexpected loss will be evident for some time.  I guess we will see, but I have to admit that a few of those scenes really gave me chills...  

Did you see it?  How did it make you feel?