On our trip to France, I feel like my eyes were re-opened, my heart again burdened with the reality that there are so many who do not know and who will never hear the gospel of Christ, the question again running through my mind, what part is God calling me to play in taking it to them? As I walked the streets of Paris, something Mark said a few summers ago as we walked the streets of Beijing came flooding back to me: "Look into the eyes of the people you meet- behind those eyes is a real life, a real heart, a real story, a real eternity."
For a few short days, my life intersected the lives of many other young people from across the world who served us on our ship, and I had the privilege of looking into their eyes, and hearing their stories. While France was filled with beauty and filled with stories, the beauty and stories that impacted me most, the beauty the stories that I will never forget were the eyes, the smiles, the stories of these people.
One particular encounter that really impacted me was actually one of the briefest I had on the trip- it was with our guide to Monet's gardens, Patricia. She was a fascinating woman. She looked about 35, but is married and has for kids, the eldest of whom is 21 and an artist and chef in the south of France. She was a wine maker for decades, but then four years ago decided to change career paths and became a tour guide. First in German, and then in English. She had learned English a year ago and had done so by inviting English speaking tourists into her home. ( I remember being filled with shame as she told me this because we had all be laughing at some of the idioms she used that didn't translate so well into English). She was a kind, funny lady who was interested in painting and sculpting and who with her historian husband is opening a bed and breakfast in August in her 15th century home. I loved meeting his woman and loved talking with her about her life.
On our way home, Patricia drove us by a church with a steeple with a rooster on the top. Evidently the rooster is symbol of France, but also connected to the biblical story of Peter. As Patricia drove us by she pointed out the steeple, and told us that "as you know, it is related to the story of Judas in the Bible." My dad and I talked about it for a minute, and he encouraged me, since we had talked for a while, to mention to her the actual association of the rooster- because as a guide and as a historian, she would want to be correct. As we talked for a little bit, it became evident to me that Patricia was not familiar with the biblical story at all, but had probably just been told enough to mention it to American tour groups to whom it would be of interest.
This was so fascinating and simultaneously heart-breaking for me. My heart broke for her, and also because though this one precious lady was probably representative of millions all over Europe, who though they are surrounded by the most magnificent Cathedrals, and though they live their lives in places steeped in church history, they have little, if any, familiarity with and understanding of the gospel. I knew her story probably represented the story of millions for whom the story of the gospel had never been spoken into the stories of their lives..
As I sat on the deck of our ship that afternoon, Romans 11 once again weighed heavily upon my heart:
Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved...
... BUT, how are they to call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who preach good news!
I came home from Paris wanting to return to Europe as soon as possible, to bring to the gospel to the many young people who are there. And I pray the Lord opens that door again some day. For now, as I am called back home and have no idea what the future holds, it is my prayer that as I sit here comfortably in my favorite coffee shop that the Lord would continue to impress upon my heart those same things he impressed upon me those several days upon the deck- both the worthiness of Christ and the urgency of the gospel, and that my supreme desire would indeed to be caught up in the mission of God and see the story of the gospel come to bear on the stories of people's lives!!
One particular encounter that really impacted me was actually one of the briefest I had on the trip- it was with our guide to Monet's gardens, Patricia. She was a fascinating woman. She looked about 35, but is married and has for kids, the eldest of whom is 21 and an artist and chef in the south of France. She was a wine maker for decades, but then four years ago decided to change career paths and became a tour guide. First in German, and then in English. She had learned English a year ago and had done so by inviting English speaking tourists into her home. ( I remember being filled with shame as she told me this because we had all be laughing at some of the idioms she used that didn't translate so well into English). She was a kind, funny lady who was interested in painting and sculpting and who with her historian husband is opening a bed and breakfast in August in her 15th century home. I loved meeting his woman and loved talking with her about her life.
On our way home, Patricia drove us by a church with a steeple with a rooster on the top. Evidently the rooster is symbol of France, but also connected to the biblical story of Peter. As Patricia drove us by she pointed out the steeple, and told us that "as you know, it is related to the story of Judas in the Bible." My dad and I talked about it for a minute, and he encouraged me, since we had talked for a while, to mention to her the actual association of the rooster- because as a guide and as a historian, she would want to be correct. As we talked for a little bit, it became evident to me that Patricia was not familiar with the biblical story at all, but had probably just been told enough to mention it to American tour groups to whom it would be of interest.
This was so fascinating and simultaneously heart-breaking for me. My heart broke for her, and also because though this one precious lady was probably representative of millions all over Europe, who though they are surrounded by the most magnificent Cathedrals, and though they live their lives in places steeped in church history, they have little, if any, familiarity with and understanding of the gospel. I knew her story probably represented the story of millions for whom the story of the gospel had never been spoken into the stories of their lives..
As I sat on the deck of our ship that afternoon, Romans 11 once again weighed heavily upon my heart:
Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved...
... BUT, how are they to call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who preach good news!
I came home from Paris wanting to return to Europe as soon as possible, to bring to the gospel to the many young people who are there. And I pray the Lord opens that door again some day. For now, as I am called back home and have no idea what the future holds, it is my prayer that as I sit here comfortably in my favorite coffee shop that the Lord would continue to impress upon my heart those same things he impressed upon me those several days upon the deck- both the worthiness of Christ and the urgency of the gospel, and that my supreme desire would indeed to be caught up in the mission of God and see the story of the gospel come to bear on the stories of people's lives!!
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