I looked around. Cars, walls, and spontaneous shifts of light surrounded me.
I looked down. In one hand, I was clutching a little red suitcase and in the
other, a giant bag of camping materials. I looked at the map on my iPad. If I
followed the advice of the driver, this was gonna be a long walk.
So I rolled my suitcase out of the parking lot and onto the streets of Grand
Lyon. Trains, busses, and tramways were arriving and departing at the same pace
as I strode past the various stops and followed the metro sign. After 20 minutes
of stopping every few seconds to study the various maps, I finally found the
right metro, purchased a ticket, and made my way to Villeurbanne. Then I faced
the next problem: Which street was I supposed to walk down? I had tried every
one but the right one (and was in the middle of sticking my face into yet
another map) when an older man helped me out.
When I finally got to the apartment, a group of people were hanging out at
the front. Two of them were talking in English. I think I had found my
people.
"Is this the place for the Toronto meeting tonight?"
"Are you Joanna?"
"Yes!"
"Then yes. I JUST got your message on Facebook saying you were planning on
coming tonight and was about to call you. We were about to go to dinner. Would
you like to join us?"
"Again...Yes!" I had asked people on Facebook to pray that I would find my
contacts. God clearly answered! After being treated to a delicious chicken
curry, my typical bottle of Schweppes Agrumes, and a Caramel Beurre Salé flan, I
headed back to the apartment. A couple from Toronto were hosting a meeting with
an organization called Plus+. I met a girl who happened to be attending BSSM1 in
September. She was really encouraged to know that I could easily put her in
contact with other French-speakers. (Again, divine appointment!?) Afterwards, we
had a quick tour of "Lyon by Night" in Géraldine's car. Everything was lit up:
the cathedral, the basilica, the Rhône, the tower, the City Hall. I was reminded
of the first time Guy and Caroline gave me a tour of The City of Lights by
Night. It had been thrilling. Lyon was beautiful.
This was on Friday night. The next day, I had the time to walk the streets of
Vieux Lyon with Maude and Severine, two girls from the apartment. My favorite
spots were the fountain at Le Place Bellecour, the view of the Basilica arching
into the sky, the multicored walls of the Old City, and the lights of the city
reflecting onto the Rhône. The dinner was pretty fabulous as well: a glass of
red wine with a bowl of Onion Soup and a sweet. But things only got better
during breakfast.
I knew Maude was up to something when she walked out of the apartment at 10
am and said she would be back "soon." Two hours later, I was sipping a glass of
orange-banana juice I had just helped squeeze. A platter of various brioches, a
bowl of pineapple, a plate of cantaloupe, and a mug of coffee were also on the
table. After a y brunch and leisure conversation, Xavier, Maude, and I took
turns prophesying over one another.
"This is my life," I thought.
Later that evening, I went outside to take a walk. I was going to return to
the apartment. Something was stopping me. So I went to the local Arab market to
buy something to hold me over until dinner. The Tunisian owner was ringing up my
Kinder Bueno at the cash register when suddenly, this sentence came to mind: "Do
you believe in Jesus Christ?"
Had I just heard right? I couldn't ask a Muslim that!! So I grabbed
my snacks and left without saying anything. But I just couldn't concentrate on
the John G. Lake book I was reading on a nearby bench. He wouldn't stop talking
about the salvation of man's soul.
So I went back. As I was waiting for the customers to leave, a man whose
breath reeked of alcohol came outside. He asked if I knew where they sold good
beers. As if I would know.
"Sorry, I am not from around the area," I replied timidly. Suddenly, the
memory of our meeting with Richard in Stilfontein came to mind. He had come to
us looking for a lighter for his cigarette. We had told him that we had
something even better--it would get him "whacked!" After encountering God's love
and hopes for his life, he had given his heart to Jesus. Why couldn't the same
thing happen here?! Suddenly, The word "back pain" popped into my head. When I
asked if he had back pain, we were both surprised when he easily answered
yes.
"I don't know if the pain is gone, but I did feel...this good feeling.
There's really something in you," he said after I had placed my hand on his back
and commanded the pain to leave. "One would almost say...supernatural."
Just then, Xavier happened to appear behind me. I noticed that the Tunisian
store owner had been watching us from inside. This was my chance! I grabbed
Xavier and climbed the step into the little shop. I was not as direct in my
approach as I had planned. Instead of witnessing the gospel, I sputtered out a
word of knowledge about sleeping problems. We spent the next few minutes praying
with him about this. He seemed unsure of how to react and kept watching the door
for customers. After only a few minutes, we left. And yet, as I plopped down
onto a couch at The Loft, I knew our time there was not over yet. So, I dug
three notecards out of my purse and tossed them to Xavier and Maude.
"To write prophetic words on," I explained.
"Great idea! Hey, we could also give him a French-Arabic Bible!" Xavier
exclaimed. I don't know how many people keep French-Arabic Bibles lying around,
but this just seemed to work out too perfectly--especially when Geraldine asked
us if we would stop by the Arab store to buy a baguette for dinner.
The next evening, we were in the middle of watching a film at the Loft.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was the Tunisian man. He had come to
thank us for our little gift the other evening.
"I read the first four of five chapters of the Gospel. It is interesting: a
lot like the Quran." Suddenly, he came over to give me a big fatherly hug. "And
it all started with this girl. She was the first who came over to buy something.
I knew that there was something more she wanted to say. Then, she asked to pray
for me."
The conversation ended with an invitation to come over and watch "Father of
Lights" within the next few weeks.
As I watched this conversation unfold before me, a phrase came to mind:
"You are going to travel all around the world and plant seeds." When a
Frenchman had prophesied this over me during our final Francophone meeting, I
had expected this to start happening in several years once I had launched some
form of ministry. But no. Things were "taking off now," just as God had
promised.
But that wasn't the only thing that was taking off. Here I was, discovering
God's kingdom in France, interviewing Christians, traveling to new places,
prophesying over new friends after breakfast like it was the most normal thing
in the world. This summer, I have had time to keep discovering what I learned in
First Year: how I communicate with God, how I work, how I can influence others.
As Xavier said, he barely knew me, but it was clear that God was with me,
guiding every step.
On Tuesday, I went to le Parc de la Tête d'Or. I had read that it was the
biggest park in France! I had to see this. Within a few minutes, I felt
like I had stepped into "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte by
George-Pierre SEURAT--you know, the one with all the ladies and their parasols?
All around me, families were picnicking on the grass, bicycling
around the area, or kayaking on the lake. A couple walked past me laughing as
they licked their ice cream cone and held their cotton candy. There were several
greenhouses filled with from lillypads from Lyon, to cactuses from Mozambique ,
to plants that smelled like apples from South Africa. As French flowed in and
out of my ears and I watched all this beauty unfold before me, only one thought
came to mind:
This is why I love France.
Within a few seconds of meeting Maude and Xavier and introducing
myself, this is the first thing they had said,
"So, you feel called to be a missionary in France!"
Why do people keep telling me this!? I hadn't said anything along these
lines. I had simply talked about my year in France and my goals for this summer
all while speaking in "very good" French ("intonation and all!") But I guess
it's true what Jesus said: out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks
(Luke 6:45.) When I told Philippe, a guy with whom I had done the Tour of
France, that I had never mentioned wanting to be a missionary to France, this
was his response: "It's too late."