Wonder is Involuntary Praise

I just spent three weeks in France. Most of the time, I was flabbergasted when I realized that I, Adrianna Oudman, was traveling in Europe. The countryside was beautiful, and the experiences were amazing. As I looked around me, I kept thinking, "Who gets to live like this??" Well I do, obviously. And probably many other people. But I hope it keeps being wondrous, that I never lose that starry-eyed feeling towards the things around me in life that are worth stopping for and exclaiming, "I can't believe I actually get to witness this right now!"

Part of me wants to give you all the details of the trip right now, and part of me wants to wax philosophically. So I'll try to balance my parts.

I spent 5 days in Annecy with the Fluit family, my friends from British Columbia for whom I am some sort of ambiguous relation (daughter? sister? friend? As Atticus (age 3) looked at me and said one day, "Are you a mom, or a dad?" and he kept calling me Dad even though his father was very much present with us...). Anyways, it was great. We swam in the very cold lake, went for bike rides and hikes, painted pictures, and had picnics. Then we drove south to Provence, to St. Remy, where the Dutch painter Van Gogh spent his days in an asylum. Again, we ate picnics (bread and nutella, anyone?), explored, took a tour of a castle, picked fresh cherries from a monastery, etc. It was fabulous weather, and their place had a pool so we usually played in the pool in the afternoons before eating supper outside.

Then I left my BC family to go to Taizé, an ecumenical monastery not too far from Lyon. I spent 10 days there with hundreds of other youth and adults. I spent 5 of the 10 days in silence, living in a separate house with other girls who were silent, attending the group prayers, and spending time learning to be attentive to myself and to God.

The time at Taizé was better than I could have hoped or imagined. One of my friends had gone a couple of years ago, and he recommended it to me. I went into the week of silence hoping for answers regarding my future and justification for my faith. Instead of answers, God gave me himself. I had told the nun who spent the week guiding us that I thought meeting God could be scary, but she replied that meeting God is never bad. God only brings good things. She was right. The whole week, God simply overwhelmed me with his love for me. I expected to wrestle, and instead he hugged me. I thought we would shout at each other, and instead he whispered sweet and good things to my heart. I realized that many of my questions did not matter once I realized more deeply that God loves me and all people. The basis for faith and ministry, for life on this earth, is God's love.

It was easy to fall in love with a place like Taizé with its patchwork quilt of fields, poppies and roses blooming, peaceful atmosphere, and kind people. The challenge will be to continue abiding in that love and becoming part of the people who are people of prayer. I'm still not sure what that will look like in my life, but I guess I'll try praying about that, too. :)

More to come...