Getting Lost in Paris...

No but really... I am not so much talking about the Romantic languages beautifully flowing out of every French person's mouth or the culture that encourages drinking before noon, but more so how I walked around completely lost for an hour and a half this morning. You just have to laugh. I don't so much mind being lost because I always find amazing things that I otherwise wouldn't of (like this French bulldog sitting on a chair across from his owner at a cafe). I giggled out loud. There were little girls being silly and playing little hand clapping games on the metro this morning and it took everything in me to not take their picture. I fought my inner urge and opted to not take the risk of being a creepy American who was taking pictures of little French children. My apartment is in a happening part of Paris. The nightlife is so intense I am a little confused as to how they have a Day life? I love experiencing God in places unknown to me. I have this thought often: All of these people have existed in this place called Paris, that until now, I had only heard about in a way that looks different than many of my good southern spiritual prescriptions that I have adhered to my entire life. Our God is one of beauty, diversity, and mysteriousness. It is interesting what loving these people looks like as my French is somewhat limited. 1 John 3: 18 comes to mind when he says, "Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we know that we belong to the truth." This takes on a new literal meaning when my words are few. However a simple smile and "Bonjour" does get one pretty far here. I have found the French people that I have encountered thus far to be kind and endearing in a way that makes me want to understand and appreciate the meaning of enjoying TODAY. They seem to love and play well. Last night I sat outside of a cafe and delighted in a wonderful dinner. Scott and Todd you would be proud; I ordered beef. I asked the server what he recommended and it was delicious. There was a crisp light breeze that resembled we Texans late October. There was a table of probably twenty French students celebrating one of the girl's birthdays, and I was silently thanking the Lord for letting be observe the sweet scene. The restaurant owner turned out the lights and brought out a cake with sparklers as they all sang and raised their glasses. The owner seemed to know most of the people there. He would greet people that entered by name and was one of the most outwardly inviting people I have been around in a long time. My studio apartment is perfect. It is tiny and efficient. Air conditioning is non-existent in Paris but the nights are cool enough that it isn't necessary. I woke up this morning with sunlight pouring into my room through the open window and it literally made me start praising Jesus out loud. He is breathtaking. I feel small and hidden in this magical city full of a language I am not proficient in and a people that don't and don't care to know me. It is exhilarating. Ironically enough one of the only places that has WIFI is Mc DO (McDonald's) and for the first time ever I was grateful to see the golden M that provided me with internet access and Coca Light (diet coke).