I’m 38,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean as I write this post. So far, the ride traveling West is easier than the ride traveling East. Making the long part of the trip during the day is far better than making the trip in the middle of the night. Nonetheless, I’ll be losing a full night of sleep by the time this 18 hour journey is over, if I don’t take a sleeping pill towards the end of the trip. We’ll see.
For the moment, I feel more compelled to write than sleep. As soon as our second plane touches down in Orlando, I will hit the ground running. Every spare moment between now and January 25th will be a piece of gold. I spent the first few hours on this plane making lists and lists and lists on the only paper available: the backs of our printed flight itineraries. Lists of all the things I have to accomplish if I want to return to Switzerland at the same time as my husband. I’m not sure how many times I will be able to write to you between now and then. So. Let’s enjoy this last leisurely moment together for over a month, shall we?
Don’t get me wrong… I’m going to enjoy this next month. I’m one of those weird people who LOVES packing. And I love a good challenge. Most of you know that I’m an artist. Artists are often stereo-typed as scatterbrained and messy. I dabble in messy clutter at times, and love that carefree feeling occasionally, but at my core, I adore order and organization. It’s the reason my painting career started with Realism and gradually branched out into Impressionism. For those of you who don’t know what the heck I’m talking about, check out my website at: http://www.artfortheimagination.com/
After only 15 years of painting in the U.S., can you believe I already have the opportunity to travel, explore Europe and find inspiration in another country!? This is an opportunity of which most artists can only dream. I once painted my imagination of Greece, but my Greek paintings will be far richer after I’ve been there in person. I’m “dizzy with gratitude,” to borrow a favorite quote.
I love the United States, but by leaving her for a while, I hope to gain more perspective and appreciation. I will also gain first-hand knowledge of, and appreciation for her brothers and sisters around the world.
I’m just scratching the surface of Switzerland and I’m already proud of her. I’ve learned things I didn’t know. On Saturday, Chris and I experienced our first celebration day of Escalades, a Swiss national holiday. I have pictures to show you and I’m bursting with desire to tell you about it, but I’m going to wait until I’ve researched the subject more thoroughly.
The most important matter resolved this week is the issue of where to live.
Our first three months, approximately, will be spent in a hotel until we secure an apartment (flat, as they call it). The rental availability rate in Geneva is less than 1%. It’s a popular place. We will have no choice but to use a relocation company to speed up the process, avoid mistakes and even then, a minimum 3 month wait is expected. Chris’ company is taking care of our hotel stay. That is a blessing. The part that was uncertain was which hotel to stay in during those first 3 months. Towards the end of our visit, it became apparent that the lovely hotel we were staying in this week also offers longer stay units and is within the budget. Just in the nick of time! We both heaved an enormous sigh of relief, and asked the front desk for a look at those units. We wanted to have a peek at the place we’d be staying to have any clue what to bring and what not to bring. While the hotel apartment is only temporary, it’s roughly close to the size of whatever place we will end up renting long term. We knew that European flats are smaller than we are used to in the US, but we wanted to see just how small, in order to make more informed decisions about what to sell , give away and keep.
We didn’t look inside of any long term rental flats. One week is not enough time to get that process started. I did, however, tour the majority of Geneva, to get a feel for which neighborhoods to focus our search in, keeping both Chris and my interests at heart.
Three days have elapsed since my last post.
Every day I waited, listening and wondering what I would be inspired to share with you next. "How long will it be til my next post?"
A few of you are out there, just as eager for the next post as me..... like my mother, dying for an update on the whereabouts of her little girl. Others are anxious to know if we've found a place to live, a flat to rent, etc.
I thought my next post would be about my apartment search and more about my exploration of the city. I've got a heap of material piling up to share with you. I'm going to have to sort through pictures and thoughts to find the best stuff to give you.
All of that is still coming very soon, but this blog would be empty if I didn't share with you what happened to me yesterday evening. I need to pause and give this the weight it deserves.
Yesterday I reached the point in this trip where I had my fill of exploring the city alone. Not only was I alone during the day, but for two days in a row my husband had to work late into the night at the office, leaving me cozy in the room. The first night it was fun. A change of pace. Many of you know how much I love my independance and alone time. For me to have my fill of alone time is a tremendous accomplishment.
By the third day of the trip I was getting tired of it, but hanging in there. Practicing a handful of French phrases out on the street does not satisfy the need for social interaction. By the time Chris came back to the room each night, I was babbling a mile a minute in English.
By the fourth day (yesterday) I was completely fed up with the amount of alone time. I could feel a female adult temper tandrum coming on and I didn't want to go there. It was 5:00pm. I skyped Chris and asked if it was going to be another late night, trying to brace myself. He estimated an earlier return of 7:30pm. I was ready to make him sign it in blood, but I didn't go there either.
I turned to the computer to send an e-mail to my Mom. God has provided for me countless times through her company, even across the miles. I wrote about 2 paragraphs and about 400 words before it happened. It was good stuff too. I was venting all my loneliness, filling her in on everything I just told you. It was when I got to this next part that it happened..................
I said, "Ginger (my French tutor when I was 8 years old) e-mailed and told me that some of her best times with God were when she first moved to France, and felt alone and isolated. Mom, would you please pray for me that I would write to Him more often instead of just writing to you?"
That's when the computer shut off.
Computers shut off all the time for various scientific reasons. It's not plugged in. The battery died. It overheated. Etc. I checked everything. Everything was fine. I pushed the power button. It started to boot up and then turned off again. I tried this several times with the same result. I was starting to get the picture. So I said, "fine." I turned away from the computer, wondering what to do next. The room was very empty without my computer. It was dark and cold outside, so I wasn't about to go out there. Then I saw the TV. That monstrous thing that my husband loves so much. (Yes, I see the irony and my hypocrisy.) I had not turned it on once in 5 days. But I thought, "what's the harm? God can speak to me through something on the television and voices talking on TV would help with the lonliness."
I turned on the television. It was on for about 5 seconds and it shut off. "What in the world," I said aloud. All other types of electricity in the room were working fine. And my computer is not on the same outlet network as the TV. I turned it on again. It shut off. I smiled. This sort of thing has never happened to me. It's happened to other people but not to me. I was pleased, but a little perturbed. I looked around the room. "What?" I said indignately, "Am I going to hear an audible voice next? This is nuts," I said aloud. Or something to that effect. I might not have said "this is nuts." I was feeling a little too reverant for that. I sat down on the bed. "So, what do you want me to do next?" I said. I got the sense that I could do whatever I wanted and He would stop me if it didn't serve the need of the moment. He just wanted my attention. In a sense, I had talked to Him through my e-mail to Mom and told Him I wanted to learn how to BE WITH Him. He was giving me what I asked for.
What I did in the next hour is besides the point. The variety of actions and stillness that met the need in that moment will not be the same every time I have a moment like that with Him. Over the course of the next hour I lost my lonliness and found fullness in His company. I could have read a bible (I didn't, because I didn't have one with me. I've been relying on the online bible.) I could have reviewed scriptures and sayings hidden in my heart. I could have danced or listened to music. I could have riden the tram to the Paquis district to give cash to a woman on the street because I didn't have any cash on me to give her the other day. I could have done a hundred different things.
I could even have watched TV, if it had been working.
The point is that I needed to listen more closely to Him. I needed to find my fullness in Him. I do listen to Him. He has always directed my steps on some level. But last night I decided to walk closer. To listen even more carefully.
I'm reminded of all the couples I see walking arm in arm down the streets of Geneva. It's been refreshing to be in a city where the cultural norm is for a woman to take her husband's arm as she walks down the street. I love doing that with Chris, but I feel silly doing that in an American city where it stands out as so old fashioned.
I'm getting sidetracted. The point is, I took Jesus' arm last night and I moved in a step closer to Him.
I know, I know... He's everywhere. He's beside me, He's within me, He's all encompassing. It's confusing. But I like this analogy for today.
The danger in sharing this story with you is that you might be jealous and desire to have an identical experience. You might want God to turn things off in a spooky way. My heart has been in that exact same place when I've heard others tell a story like this.
But God shouldn't need to do weird things to get my attention. I want to learn to give Him my full attention every moment of every day, when everything seems normal.
(My computer is working just fine now, by the way, as you can tell. No explanation.) If you have a scientific explanation for what happened there, DON'T write and even attempt to burst my bubble. Whether God used science or not is besides the point.)
I shared this story with you because it's an important part of MY little story. The discussion of renting a flat would ring hollow without this account.
Before we move on to anything else, I want us to stop and savor this moment.
Immanuel.
God with us.
He's right there in the room with you. Did you look up from your computer? Yep, I caught you!
The only thing I want you to take away from this blog post is that He's REAL. And He's HERE. Most of you already know this. But are you going to ENJOY Him today?
Thank you to everyone who posted comments. Thanks for the encouragement. You are all so dear!
It's a wonder what proper sleep and sunshine can do for the human spirit.
So I am here. After 5 weeks that felt like 5 months, I arrived in Geneva, Switzerland to begin my new life here. I currently live in Orlando, Florida, and desperately desire to move closer to family in Virginia. Nine years ago I married my high school flame, moved hundreds of miles away from family to marry him and have spent the last 9 years planning to return to the mid-Atlantic states to live close to family. Instead, I'm moving further away than I've ever been, across the ocean, to another country and culture. I've never even visited Europe!
So, I am here for one week to make preparations for our permenant move in January.
I've been beside myself with excitement these last 5 weeks, ever since my husband learned that he is losing his current job and a job might be available within the company at headquarters in Geneva. Excitement at the prospect of adventure. This is the story of my life that I embrace large adventures only to be met with more challenges than I foresaw.
The flight over here was a ride from hell. I expected certain standards to be standard when you are couped up on a plane for 8 hours in the middle of the night, even in the economy class. Small, hard, painful seats that don't recline were not what I expected. OK, they reclined, but by about 5 inches of difference from sitting bolt upright. The right was bumpy. I was nauseated the entire 8 hours. I was also unprepared for jet lag. I thought I was a pro, because I stayed up all night with my mother during the labor and delivery of my last 3 brothers and sisters. Lose a night of sleep? No problem. Jet lag is quite another level of trauma altogether.
I only agreed to this adventure on the promise of several trips back to the states to visit family each year. I'm no longer looking forward to those trips. I feel trapped on the other side of the ocean by 8 hours of misery. I am face to face with the reality of the comfortable life I have lived until now. I've been tested and it has been revealed just what a wimp I am.
I awoke in the middle of the night and told God that I needed new reasons to move to Switzerland. Adventure and fun are no longer sufficient. I need to know that this move is EXACLY what He wants me to do. That it will be good for me. That it serves His greater plan for the universe and His Kingdom. I'm now on the lookout for those reasons. I'll keep you posted.
Yesterday the strangeness and unfamiliarity of my surroundings was overwhelming on my first day here. Not to mention the non-stop rain of December and the many people who don't speak English and the European architechture. The very things I looked forward to with eagerness. The unfamiliar is exciting and full of adventure one day, frightening and cold the next day.
Today I am improving. The fun is returning. My very first friend in Geneva, Switzerland is a small young man who oversees the breakfast room each morning at my hotel. He is short and slender with strawberry blond hair and buzzes around the room as though he's short on time even though there is no one else but me in the diningroom. He reminds me of a wasp until he lands for a few minutes to converse when I ask a question. He's full of helpful, friendly information, and then he's off again as soon as I appear to be more interested in my breakfast.
The bread here is delicious. Perfect blend of soft and crispy.
Now I am off to continue my exploration.