The family of Ernest Hemingway entitled the memoirs of his days in Paris as a young journalist and writer “A Moveable Feast”. They pieced together the story of those amazing yet dark days of his life after his tragic death from notes and items found in an old trunk. His journal told the stories of lessons learned, both good and bad, on the streets of the “City of Lights.” A couple of days ago, Robyn and I returned from our own “moveable feast” after taking our baby girl Madison on a once in a lifetime trip to celebrate her college graduation. Joining us on this feast also included our two oldest daughters Kalie and Lorin, and two of Madison’s close friends, so if you do the math you can see I spent the last week in a half chaperoning six beautiful young women through the streets of Paris. Talk about a dream come true, but I must acknowledge I did not know the Alabama Crimson Tide won the NCAA Championship for days. Let’s just say when you are standing in front of the cute little smile of the Mona Lisa football rarely comes up.
As I began this year I chose to focus my quest on knowing Christ, and knowing Him in ways I have never known Him before. I decided to look for His presence and fingerprints all around me, and to join old Brother Lawrence, who too walked the streets of Paris as a Catholic monk, in his quest to “Practice the Presence of Christ” every moment of every day—to look for Him—to experience Him in all the moments and breaths of life.
I enjoyed the smile of our Lord just moments after landing outside the city after a long overnight flight from Dallas. Bone weary and blurry eyed, yet with my heart beating with the excitement of travel, we waited in line to go through customs expecting a long wake that actually turned out to be rather uneventful, which created some concern because our ground transportation had been arranged to arrive later because we expected a long delay. Robyn and I discussed how to communicate with our shuttle service but had little idea how to contact them. As we walked out of the secure area our first sight was the smiling face of our driver holding in his hands a card with the words “Robyn Lowrie”. In less than 15 minutes he whisked us and all our luggage (remember I was traveling with an entourage of girls…we need a logistic officer from the 1AD at times, but thankfully he brought a large van) onto the highway leading to Paris. As we drove to the city, I imagined what it will be like on that day when I cross over to the other side, and I see my name written in the Lamb book of life and know my arrangements have been made.
Over the next few emotional days, I kept seeing Jesus pop up. I saw Him in the faces of young French soldiers patrolling the sidewalks in front of cathedrals, mosques, and synagogues saying “You are safe on my watch.” I saw Him when I saw a man sit down with an old woman begging with her puppy petty the dog and listening to her life story giving her the gift of being alive and notice rather than a handful of spare change.
I felt Him join the conversation as I spoke with Scott Herr, pastor of the historic American Church, about how to be the presence of Christ in a dangerous unpredictable world, and agreeing with him after my own experiences in El Paso that our very presence with the people declares the gospel loud and clear. We don’t run from fear, we live in faith. I grieved with Him as Robyn and I stood in silence at the makeshift memorial outside the Bataclan Theatre where so many young people died at the hands of terrorist.
I laughed with Jesus when on the Metro Robyn began singing “Happy Birthday” to Madison celebrating 22 years. She exclaimed, “I need an accordion player, the doors of the subway opened and on stepped a man with an accordion to our amazement and bringing a big smile to the young Frenchman who witnessed this everyday miracle of Jesus. As you can see Jesus pops up everywhere if you keep an eye out for Him. Try it today; You might be surprise where He turns up!