So, why MISSION Paris?

Some of you may have been wondering why I have titled my blog "Mission" Paris. I didn't come to Paris with a mission organisation, nor did I go door-to-door handing out flyers about Jesus. What made it a mission? Well, my story of how I even ended up in France is the beginning of all this.
I never really planned on studying abroad until the end of my Freshman year of college, when I decided I was ready to be independent and force myself to try new things and meet new people. I remember very well standing in my friend Joy's kitchen telling her how I hadn't developed the type of friendships I had wanted in Richmond, I was frustrated with how shy I was, and I was ready to go move on. I looked into a million places to go, and I had especially wanted to go to Italy because I have always had a passion for my family's heritage and the language itself. I couldn't find a program that seemed to be what I had pictured. I wanted to be in a city. I wanted to live on my own. Suddenly, it occured to me that maybe Paris would be the perfect place for me to go. Yes. That was it. I'd go there. I found a program that was perfect for me, and reported back to my parents. "What happened to Italian?" My dad said. I didn't know. Something did, but I just felt like France was where I wanted to be.
I didnt think about it, I didnt pray about it, I barely spoke to anyone else besides myself about it.
I was going to France.
It wasn't until about halfway through fall semester that I began to freak out. What was I doing? Why was I doing this? I knew nothing about this country, I hadn't even thought to seek God's will on this one, I just did it for my own selfish purposes. All of a sudden I didn't really wan tto go. In December I went to a missions conference in St. Louis, Missouri. It was there that everything became clear to me- France is dark. I went to a series of seminars on Jesus and the Francophone world, Christiantiy in Europe, and other related topics. Sudenly I felt God calling me- I was over there to make a difference. There is a silent movement in France right now for Jesus that needs to be getting louder and louder- and I was going there to become a part of it. I needed to go witness.
It was little things that I did while I was over there. I sat by the river and sang praise songs. I read my Bible in a café. I gave candy to a kid on the metro. I gave bread to the poor people on the streets- but I would always make sure to say "soyez bení" (God Bless you) in doing so. I never left anything untouched. BLESS THE PEOPLE! The apartment building across from mine caught on fire. I went and bought a case of water and cups and gave water to the residents as they watched their building burn. I gave what was left to the firemen. One woman asked me if I was with the fire department. "No, I live in the student foyer over there." Just little things. I only shared the gospel a couple of times. Mostly with people I knew. One girl told me I opened her eyes to a lot of things. One guy told me he was bored. I was given an assignment in my grammar class to do an exposé on anything I wanted. After a lot of arguing with God, I got up on a Thursday morning in front of my entire class and shared the Gospel. I dont think I have ever been so scared in my life. I drew the diagram on the board, and I told them about Jesus. My Catholic teacher beamed in the back of the room, while the rest of the class looked a bit annoyed. However, I gained a lot of respect that day.
People noticed something different about me. Some liked it, some didn't, some were indifferent about it. But there was definitely something different. Everybody in my foyer knew I was Christian. Because I was the only one. And there was something different about me. I wasn't religious, I was just different.
They'll know we are Christians by our love.
It was my goal to show people the Christian lifestyle.
And let me tell you, it was hard to lead that lifestyle in such a city. I was surrounded by sex. I lived in an extremely tempting environment. I was forced to live in two different worlds-- one in which I was physically and one in which I had been promised. I had to know I was different. I had to know that sometimes I wasn't liked. I had to be okay with it.
I didn't bring anyone to Christ while I was there. I didn't see anyone accept Him. Some people would say that mission was failed. But I did open eyes. I did live outside the box in a city where living outside the box isn't always acceptable. But I did show people who Christians were for possibly the first time in their lives. Or maybe in just a different way.
I call that mission accomplished.

Praise be to God. Thank you for your prayers. Amen.