Living in a Tree of Life

Life is full and rich these days, filled with children, metro, bike rides, streetscapes—and thick with the thrill of discovery and the pangs of friend-sickness.

Proverbs says that while “hope deferred makes the heart sick, a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” I continue to experience a sense of living in a tree of life: a result, maybe, of the years I have thought of this country, of this people, of these streets, of this language and yearned to return.

Life—joy, delight—wait to be found out around every corner—though they must be chosen.

Engaging with the children is a labor of love that unexpectedly yields sweet fruit: a wide grin and coo of delight from our 2-month-old, a sweet caress of my cheek by the 2-year-old, or the slipping of a nearly 5-year-old hand into mine when unneeded and unsolicited. Walking two blonde 2-year-olds to the park, each with their mini-strollers and baby dolls is nearly too cute to handle.

The streets of this city are full of treasures. An elderly Frenchwoman goes out fashionably dressed and accepts with grace when a man offers his seat to her on the bus. Specialty shops fill eyes and often noses with old books, fragrant cheeses, breads and pastries, stamps. Women are well-dressed, yet typically leave their hair and makeup quite natural; men wear often tailored coats and fine shoes. Glimpses, up from dirty storefronts and littered sidewalks, towards the horizon occasionally yield a partial view of Sacré Cœur or the Eiffel Tower. It’s funny—I never get bored but sometimes get numb to it all. Then I will have a moment of dumbfounded realization that I am here and that it’s beautiful.

If I am living in a tree of life, the thickest branch has got to be this family I’ve been welcomed into. After the fatigue of a revolving door of roommates and visitors in Kansas City, I was thrilled simply by the prospect of living with the same people for a full year. There is much, much more goodness to this than just stability, though. It’s an unbelievable privilege to live in super-close quarters with a couple that have a healthy marriage and love their children really well. Jonathan and Amélie choose to allow me into many of their discussions about their family and this church, and I know that it’s training for later in life, family or community.

All of this to say: I’m grateful; I’m healthy.

The challenge these days is the dichotomy between rejoicing in this place and being able to connect to it through friendship. The French are an amazing people and I love them very much, but it takes a good deal of time to build relationships among them as a foreigner. So the Lord continually encourages me to be strong and courageous, to be patient in what may be a very long lag time in between the deep, strong relationships of the past and the ones that surely await me here in the future.