First and foremost, we were all blown away by the French Alps. If you ever have a chance to go, DO IT! I’m an ocean girl, so the Alps weren’t even on my radar when planning this trip. But it was one of Doug’s “must-dos” and I am so glad. It’s everything they say it is. Beautiful. Majestic. And the air is so clear. It’s almost otherworldly. There’s a reason people have long associated mountains with God.
Our destination was Chamonix, France, for a two night stay. Given the terrain, getting from the sea to the Alps is quite a journey and, believe it or not, the fastest route was through Italy. So YES! Of course we took that route. It saved us nearly two hours of drive time, and allowed us to visit two more countries: Monaco and Italy!
I will write more in another post about our full day in the Alps, riding to mountaintops and descending into glaciers, but this one travel day has enough in it for an entire post of its own.
These were, without a doubt, the two most relaxing days of our vacation. After two days of driving 1000 miles from Normandy to Villefranche with stops at four major cities and/or tourist attractions – including a brief religious pilgrimage – then landing at our AirBnb at 9:30 p.m. without dinner, we all slept in.
Our Airbnb, which we booked for three nights, was like a little piece of paradise. If it weren’t for our need for food and the desire to swim in the Mediterranean, we might have never left.
Day 10 included one of our longest drives of the trip: Commes to Toulouse by way of Mont Saint-Michel, which amounts to about nine hours of driving time without any other stops, traffic, or complications. But of course, there were complications! Thankfully, not all complications are bad.
Monday morning, after a little last-minute shopping, we took an UberXL from Disneyland Paris to Charles de Gaulle airport to pick up our rental car (time: ~30 minutes; cost: €90.00). Renting cars in Europe is different than renting cars in the USA – mostly they offer less variety, smaller vehicles, and different makes and models. It was also a much slower process than what we are used to at home, even though we had booked the car well in advance.
Because we needed room for four people, luggage, and food, and we were traveling to areas with narrow roads and limited parking, we opted for a mid-size SUV, which ended up being the Peugeot 3008. It’s similar in size to the Toyota RAV4 or Honda CRV. Overall, we were happy with this car; it was comfortable, handled well, and (most importantly) had plenty of trunk space!
Our end destination for the day was the Airbnb in Commes, a town near the beaches of Normandy. Without stops the drive would take about four hours, but what’s the point of road tripping if you don’t stop? After a week of relying on our feet and public transportation, it felt good to be on the road again.
Remember those people who sneezed all over me at the Louvre? I blame them for the sore throat that woke me in the early hours of Saturday morning. I was so glad that we used our Premier Access Ultimate Pass on Friday because that took the pressure off the rest of the weekend, enabling me to sleep in both mornings. I was a bit anxious at first because in the very beginning, the flu, covid, and a cold can all feel similar. Thankfully, it was just a cold, and by the grace of God no one else got sick. For the most part, I was able to power through the weekend. Sometimes I even forgot I was sick!
Our last full day in Paris and I want to cry just thinking about it. Oh, it went by so quickly. Isn’t life and the concept of time just so weird? (Visit this blog often for more brilliant philosophical insights.)
I have rather been dreading this post. I feel like I should have something profound to say after visiting the Louvre, but I don’t. I have nothing.
I have been silenced by the voices of a thousand works of art.
OK, not entirely silenced. But don’t expect anything profound. The Louvre has to speak for itself.
When Doug visited Paris in 1989 with his brother, David, he was 20 years old and traveling on a limited budget. With the cost for a ticket to the top of the Eiffel Tower at 12Fr (way back when they were still using francs) they settled for a ticket to the lower platform. He saved 7Fr, but he regretted that decision for the next 34 years!
That regret became a sort of benchmark for our trip: Do you want to do ____________? If you don’t do it, will it be your Eiffel Tower? Don’t let it be your Eiffel Tower!!!
So, obviously, going to the top of the Eiffel Tower was a must. Imagine our dismay when we missed the ticket onsale! Thankfully, while timed-entry tickets are released online 60 days in advance, if they sell out for the day of your visit (or if you don’t know when you’ll be there, or want to wait for good weather) you can just show up and wait in line like the olden days. So that’s what we did.
We expected a wait. What we didn’t expect was a crash course in French culture.
Wall art in Morocco, EPCOT | Photo by nicholeq.wordpress.com
During a recent trip to Disney World, our family hunted day and night for Hidden Mickeys – symbolic representations of Mickey Mouse in the iconic three-circle shape, inserted subtly in the design of rides, attractions and artwork throughout the park. And we found them: created by white paint stains on a desk in Spaceship Earth, in the paintings along the Maharajah Jungle Trek in Animal Kingdom, as a three-dimensional object formed out of metal bands in a Living with the Land water tank, in the mosaic walls of The Coral Reef restaurant and more.
At The Coral Reef | Photo by nicholeq.wordpress.com
The only reward for discovering a Hidden Mickey is the excitement and satisfaction you experience upon finding one. And yet, in a park that offers some of the best entertainment in the world, our family couldn’t get enough of this game. We’d be zipping along on some ride and one of us would point and shout, “Hidden Mickey!” while the others craned their necks, trying to catch a glimpse of the shape before being whisked away. We were treasure hunting.
Maybe, like me, you love treasure hunting: searching for something hidden, something hard to find, or maybe even something that’s right before your eyes but if you really pay attention you realize it’s more than you thought…more than a paint stain…more than a few random pieces of metal.
Some of you may insist this desire stems from our need to hunt for food or what-not. Snore. Treasure hunting is about more than survival. It’s about finding something valuable, precious, unique or rare.
A couple of years ago, I read the book One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. (Check out her blog aholyexperience.com.) In her book, she writes, rather poetically, about the power of thankfulness – but not in a trite “count your blessings and be happy” kind of way. By sharing from her own life journey and study of the Word, she illustrates that even in the face of great difficulty, we can find things for which to be thankful. And that in gratitude, there lies great power…power to release, heal, transform…because “thanksgiving…always precedes the miracle.” (p.35)
Her book inspired me to begin my own gratitude journal, writing down things for which I am thankful. First came the obvious, like family, God, shelter, food; then came crocuses in spring, warm pajamas, books, strawberries, hot showers, sunsets in Cape Breton, finding sea glass with the girls, eating popsicles with the family during a break from yard work, licorice tea, butterflies migrating through our yard, lemonade, thunderstorms, the root canal that brought relief, a spontaneous hike with a friend, a full night’s sleep, medicine for a sick daughter away at college and caught in a blizzard, Anne of Green Gables, and on and on and on.
When practicing thankfulness and gratitude, life itself becomes a treasure hunt, a search for the valuable, precious, unique and rare.
One sunny spring day, as I stood in the driveway with hundreds of little helicopter seeds from our maple tree swirling in the air around me, I thanked God for the beauty of his creation. A sense of childlike wonder filled my being and I smiled with inexplicable joy…
Hidden Mickey, Thunder Mountain Railroad | Photo from Wikipedia
On some days, I feel like life is mostly about losing…losing everything…losing everyone. And in some ways, that’s true. Life is loss. And I hurt. My girls grow up and out and away from me. And my grandparents pass away. And family gets busy and sometimes pain divides us. Even my body and mind betray me and I can’t stand the skin I’m in. How can I escape myself? The pain is painful and the emptiness feels like a black hole and I think, Why? Why God? Why so much loss? So much letting go?
And then I remember that every loss, every emptiness, is space for Him to enter, so that what was once barren can be filled again. Thankfulness lets Him in and I am filled.
Not because I made a list. Not because I’ve had good experiences. Not even because, as most Americans, I have more than many ever will.
I am content because God has everything. Or more importantly, because God is everything. At least, He is everything that matters.
I am not saying that God and His gifts are one and the same. Rather, His gifts are an expression of who He is. By giving, He opens a doorway to the greater gift: Himself. Our gratitude lets Him in.
And then, with our thanksgiving, we give Him ourselves. It’s all we really have to offer Him anyway. And it’s exactly what He came for.
Maharajah Jungle Trek Mural, Animal Kingdom | Photo by nicholeq.wordpress.com
So what if every day we hunted for God’s hidden treasures like hunting for Hidden Mickeys? Could we find ourselves driving down the road with our family, pointing and shouting, “Look at the sun on the river!” …or opening the windows on a rainy night and whispering, “Shhh….can you hear the rain on the tree tops?” and savoring the scent of wet pavement…or hearing a baby wailing in the store and thinking, “The sound of new life.” …or holding the door for an elderly man, even though you’re in a hurry, and remembering that he is worth your time…could we?
Could we stop to ponder what those gifts tell us about our Father God? Could we thank Him and be filled, not with stuff or feelings, but with Him, very God Himself?
As I stood in my driveway, caught in a whirlwind of helicopters and giddy with joy, I marveled at God’s handiwork, how he designed the seeds to fly and the wind to carry them and the soil to nourish them. I wondered at His ability and desire to create such varied and complex life. I soaked in the warmth of a sun that burns at His command. And in that moment, I knew Him.
He gave and opened the way. My gratitude let Him in. With thanksgiving, I gave Him myself.
I admit it. I had to Google YOLO to find out what it means. (I guess I really am almost 40.)
YOLO: You Only Live Once.
True enough. I really don’t want to debate reincarnation in this post, so let’s leave it at that for now.
You Only Live Once. Like many catch phrases, YOLO can inspire us.
Of course, some people just use it as an excuse to act like an idiot.
That’s the way with words. They’re powerful, but the direction of that power depends on the meaning we give them.
After reading the Facebook debates about YOLO – is it about getting drunk or skydiving, making your life count or experiencing everything possible – I began to wonder…is there a better motto to live by? One that captures the essence of YOLO but with more lasting impact?
Not that I’m a big “motto to live by” person. Because, really, most mottos are formulas and most formulas don’t survive the tests of life. If we had formulas, we wouldn’t need God.
Anyway…I was mulling it over (yes, I said “mulling”) and here’s what I got – I mean it literally popped into my head:
YOLOL. You Only Leave One Legacy.
Isn’t that a better perspective? If you’re really going to make this life count, forget about living for the moment, feeding your selfish desires, amassing a fortune or making a name for yourself. And consider your legacy.
I believe that as a culture we’re in danger of forgetting what it means to leave a legacy. We live selfishly, haphazardly blazing a trail that future generations will have to navigate. What are we leaving them? What will be their inheritance?
We spend money in the hopes of getting through the week, the month or the next debt ceiling increase.
We spend time – on the computer, the TV, at the amusement park (umm…guilty!) – because we’re tired and just want a little something for ourselves…right now.
We spend energy, talent and gifts and when we don’t see results, we get discouraged. Because that track plays over and over again in our minds: You’re wasting your time! Life is short! You Only Live Once!
But the thing is, making a difference takes time. Often more time than this life offers us. And that’s where the legacy part comes in.
Have you any idea of the reach, influence and extent of Walt Disney’s legacy? From animation to movies to music to clothing to Broadway to amusement parks to agriculture to technology to philanthropy to I don’t even know what else, Disney is doing it and they’re doing it all over the world.
Walt Disney started out with nothing and every time he found success, he leveraged it to try something new. For a wealthy man, he sure was broke a lot – mortgaging everything he and his family members had multiple times. He could have left his success in the bank, put up his feet and enjoyed the good life. But Walt never stopped dreaming, because he never stopped thinking about the future…and the generations to come.
In 1966, before construction began on Walt Disney World Resort, Walt died. He only lived once. But just look at his legacy.
Recently, a missionary visited our church. He and his family serve a people who are very “closed” to the gospel. And naturally, this family often feels discouraged. They live in a hut in Africa, walk to a well for water, grow vegetables, dig latrines, fight malaria, parasites, cultural challenges and spiritual battles. All for what? The villagers still practice Islam and witchcraft and polygamy and spousal abuse.
But they found encouragement in the sacrifices of other missionaries. Missionaries with stories like Nate Saint, who, in the beginning of his mission to the Waodani people of Ecuador, was brutally murdered by the very ones he longed to reach with the gospel of Christ.
To some, Nate’s life and death may appear futile. But just look at his legacy: Despite their grief, Nate’s family stayed in Ecuador and today, approximately one in six Waodani are believers. Nate’s son, Steve, considers the Waodani his family.
Jesus lived a mere 30 something years on Earth. He was conceived out of wedlock, poor and nothing special to look at. He was tortured, nailed to a tree and mocked by those He came to save. He suffered the agony wrought by all humanity’s sin, endured the rejection of his Father and paid a penalty undeserved. He died a criminal’s death and was buried in a borrowed tomb.
He left behind a handful of confused followers including His mother, a formerly demon-possessed woman and some guys who were so freaked out for their own safety, they locked themselves away in the second floor of someone’s home.
At first glance this doesn’t look like a successful approach to the whole YOLO thing.
Lightning Bug 