Life on Lock-down

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and very courageous, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

Bonjour from France! I’m Jen, the crazy person who made it to France the day before all shops and restaurants closed, and two days before the country went on full lock-down as the government amped up the fight against Coronavirus. Elissa and I are currently sequestered away in a tiny hilltop medieval town in the Loire Valley, surrounded by breathtaking views and acres upon acres of vineyards.

Our lovely apartment is 400 years old and includes 4-inch-long iron keys! The grocery store at the bottom of the hill is calm, orderly, and well-stocked with French food. If we take our pass with us (!), we’re allowed to walk alone through the empty village streets and vineyards for exercise. Elissa is very pleased that the village cats aren’t on lock-down and often come out for a visit.

Saying bonjour to Minette.

Frolicking through empty streets.

Week One of lock-down is in the books. I’m forever thankful that I brought our homeschooling supplies with us, so we’re able to do our normal math/reading/writing routine. The Osmo program for Kindle is our new best friend and has made learning much more fun and interactive. The week was full of balmy days with such abundant sunshine that we were compelled to throw the windows open and have dance parties. All our language classes have been cancelled per social distancing, so we’re doing our best to learn French via Skype and Duolingo. As a surprise bonus we’ve even met several English-speaking saints in this obscure little French town, and have found creative ways to visit between the streets and each other’s windows.

Elissa and her doll, Poinsettia, hard at work.

Next week predicts chilly, overcast weather. We’re getting tired of walking past closed cheese shops, bakeries, and Michelin-starred restaurants. We were chastised by police when our “exercise” took us too far from our apartment! We’ve read our books, played our games and now the cabin fever is sinking in.

An abandoned fromagerie.

Only the pharmacie is open!

What a weird, crazy, unforgettable time to be in France. I’ve thought a lot about all the events that led us to this place, where we don’t speak much of the language and are an ocean away from our family and friends. Was it a colossal mistake to move out of our house, put all our belongings in storage, and move to Europe for six months at the precise moment that the world shut down to battle this virus? Obviously, no one could have seen this coming during the many weeks and months that I spent preparing for this next chapter of our journey. And at any point I could pull the plug on our adventure, spend hours being screened in airports, and find an Airbnb in Maryland to self-isolate in along with everyone else in my community. But, as I’ve sought the Lord about why we’re right here, right now, I’ve felt that there was no mistake about us coming at this exact time. We’re staying in a lovely, spacious apartment with everything we need, down to blackout curtains that helped us recover from jet-lag. We have more than enough food, opportunities for exercise and fresh air, and technology that miraculously connects us to friends around the globe and endless opportunities for learning.

It can certainly be unnerving to dwell on the fact that we are technically homeless and, like countless others around the world right now, every single one of our plans is up in the air. What a good reminder that our true citizenship is in heaven, and though we will encounter trouble in this world, we can take heart because He has overcome the world (Philippians 3:20, John 16:33). During this time of uncertainty, I’ll do my part to deluge you with photos of la belle (et tranquille!) France. I hope to post regularly with updates, pictures, and ways that we’re making the most of this unplanned staycation. I also want to hear from each of you - how are you, and what are some of your favorite ways to stave off cabin fever?

Lots of love from France!
Jen et Elissa

My sunshine when skies are gray <3

Running the Race

Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.

Hebrews 12:1

After 4 months and nearly 200 miles of training, Nate and I ran our very first half marathon in Irving, TX. All the carefully patterned sleeping and eating routines, the gallons of water faithfully consumed, the worn shoes and sweat and injuries consummated in this one goal: to finish, and to do it in under two hours.

I am not one of those enviable runners who adore running and live to pound the pavement. Before this spring I'd only run an occasional three miles because I had to. I view running as a necessary discipline that must be endured to improve overall health, fitness and mental endurance. My secret weapon is books on tape which distract me from the misery I'm putting my body through. Multiple times during that race - specifically on miles 7, 9 and 11 - I asked myself again why on earth I was doing this. But I finished. I ran every step of the way, spurred on by Agatha Christie and cheering spectators with cowbells, and I placed second in my age group.

Nate and I held hands as we crossed the finish line, and celebrated in a steaming jacuzzi as our screaming knees and hip flexors called us every name known to man. We hobbled around Irving for the rest of the weekend, enjoying wonderful food and movies and museums and sunning ourselves in parks while trying not to look too much like 80-year-olds with arthritis.

We love Jefferson Street Bed & Breakfast!

Farm-to-table restaurant with incredible food

Venison chili and wildflower honey cornbread (elk tacos for an appetizer)

Yeah, I married him.

Fluffy hair and pale skin just needs to come back in style.

An original Norman Rockwell exhibit at the Boy Scout Museum. So good!

Love this man.

Then we came home and did the unthinkable. We registered for the Disney Marathon on January 12, 2014. Yes, we are out of our minds. Yes, in a moment of extravagant confidence I forgot every painful step of that 13.1 miles and convinced myself that I could do it twice. I hit the "register" button, and then dissolved into a puddle of quaking disbelief.

But today I laced up my running shoes and pounded it out again. We have 8 months, after all. And who knows? Maybe in that 8 months I'll learn to love running. Maybe my body will cross a threshold where I can crank out mile after mile without my joints dying a miserable death. And maybe we will have the time of our lives, flying through all 26.2 miles of those glorious Disney parks. In any case, whether we set a new record or have to stop every 20 minutes and take pictures with Mickey, it feels good to set a goal - a challenging, impossible goal - and make steady progress towards attaining it.

If there's one thing running regularly has taught me, it's a deeper appreciation for all of the Apostle Paul's exercise analogies:

"Run in such a way as to get the prize. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever." - 1 Cor. 9:24-25

"Train yourself for godliness, for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way." - 1 Tim. 4:7-8

"Run with endurance." - Hebrews 12:1

Comparing physical training with training in godliness has shown me that becoming like Christ doesn't just happen. Just as I could never set off one day to run a marathon on a whim, I can't hope to have Christlike words, thoughts and actions without applying myself to His Word and example. This race, reaping imperishable rewards, is so worth my entire life's devotion. May I run here, and wherever God places me, with endurance and with joy.

A Weekend in NOLA

For the 85th time I begged to know where we were going. Nathan refused to budge and even made me close my eyes whenever we passed a telltale road sign. Finally, my internal compass kicked in and I realized we were driving east. To New Orleans. Unbeknownst to me, my love had planned an entire weekend seeped in Cajun culture, complete with sightseeing, live music and more seafood and French pastry than I could dream of.

We pulled up to a breathtakingly beautiful hotel, a white jewel set in the midst of high rises and bustling streets. A gloved, tailed and top-hatted doorman took my hand and helped me from the car. We dumped our luggage in the room and immediately took off exploring, like two five-year-olds racing each other down silent, brocaded hallways. The elegance was magnificent. Heavy draperies, fresh flowers and hand-painted details adorned every inch of the place. We stumbled down forbidden stairwells, danced to the thrums of wedding reception music vibrating through every floor, and feasted on complimentary PB&J and hot chocolate in our jammies.

Every night at 10 pm a bedtime snack of sandwiches, milk and cocoa is laid out in the lobby, and guests have a PJ party.

There was even art on the ceiling!

Such an exquisite elevator

 Our weekend was packed, mostly with food. We breakfasted at a delicious French bakery, where Nathan died and went to heaven over the raspberry tarts.

We spent an afternoon at a fabulous WWII museum, spellbound in a Tom Hanks 4D film that literally transported us into the streets of Berlin. Then it was off to a dinner of crawfish and goat cheese crepes, a stroll through the French Quarter accentuated by spurts of live jazz and the lively bantering of locals at a moonlit market, and unbelievable cafe au lait and beignets at the famed Cafe du Monde. We walked home through Bourbon Street and barely made it out alive, and that's all I'll say about that.

Muriel's for dinner

6 pm, and the party begins.

Perfectly cast musicians.

Nate's beignets and chocolate milk

On Sunday I convinced Nathan that seafood is just as good at breakfast time. Cheddar grits and seafood omelet? There are no words.

He played it safe with steak. 

NOLA's most popular form of transportation

The party never ends.

I love New Orleans. I love the architecture; whole neighborhoods in rainbows of color where no two houses are alike. I love the festivity and the beauty and tradition. I especially love the food. And I love my husband who, after nearly three years, has never let the honeymoon die.