Spring is Here

Je suis ici, au-dessus d'Albertville, dans le jardin de Conflans. Everything is in riotous bloom. Each direction I turn I see beauty made manifold in new life abounding. And it is time to go home.

The River is an angry rush of turbulent waters, snow from the peaks is melting, beginning as a thousand tiny trickles, each trickle meeting the others to create this massive force. And it is time to go home.

The perfumes of spring hang heavily in the air: the thick scent, rich and deep of freshly plowed earth; the fragrance of spring flowers in bloom; the sneeze-inducing, nose-tickling sensation of freshly mowed grass. The whole world is beset by layers of pollen. And it is time to go home.

In the mornings, the birds sing their songs, song after song after song, melodies that usher in this new season.

The mountains that were just a week ago still coated in the solemn gray of winter are now flushed with the yellow-green of baby leaves just now starting to show themselves on the trees up above. Each day, a more vibrant green color deepens on the previously barren mountainsides. Layers of greens begin to form. In between the clumps of trees, what were dry, muddy, brown fields have transformed into pastures of florescent green new grass. The world is alive with the newness of spring, with the goodness of life.

Each morning, I wake up to see a little bit less snow on the peaks. Peaks that have become familiar to me. I know their curves, I recognize each with its splendid majesty. Each has a unique character in my head, personified to the extent that they have become my friends, but my friends are changing. The green is coming, creeping up the mountain walls, the snow is disappearing, melting off the mountain tops...

A year ago, I never would have been able to conceive of the adventures that God has brought me on, the people whom I have been honored to meet, the new beauties in life that have been revealed to me. 

To the missionaries studying at the Centre - you have all become a part of my great cloud of witnesses. Your stories, your faith, your sacrifice and joy in following God's calling have made a deep impression on me.

To Abby & Ally, my two piano students, you girls are amazing. I wish we had started piano lessons together earlier, but I am so glad that we had at least some. You have both blessed me beyond measure.

To the McCropder children - each of you has claimed a part of my heart...

Anna who is my piano student, my little companion, my melodramatic and precocious friend who is 7 going on 17, fearless and (recent) lover of shots, so packed full of personality, you are going great places in life, my friend. I can't wait to watch and see how you grow more and more fully into the beautiful young woman God is making you to be.

Elise: you are the sweetest little girl, brimming with imagination. I love the two wispy little braids that frame a face so precious that it could melt the coldest of hearts in an instant. How I adored all the time I spent with you. I love the way you call me "Mrs. Kathryn", I love to watch you grow and learn more each day. You are such a good big sister to your two little brothers. You are a gem, a princess, full of love and beauty.

Abi: how I love everything about you. How I love your unabated, unmatchable, inconceivable enthusiasm, joy, your attitude of taking life head-on, all the way, non-stopping... with a laugh that I adore to hear and a smile that's to die for. I can't say I've ever met a four year-old, nor do I ever expect to meet one, who can and will consume every type of food this planet has to offer no matter how vegetably-green, how spicy, how unappetizingly basil-flavored it may be. Please don't ever change!

Micah: you are something else. I love the earnestness of your expression, the imagination that flares up in an instant, your way of explaining things, your whole perspective in life that has opened up mine more to childhood wonder. I love your sense of good and evil, your burning and sincere desire to beat those bad guys. I love how quick your smile is to come, and I love how big and full and bright that smile is.

Maggie: I remember quite distinctly one of the very first things you ever said to me. We were outside, it was a Sunday and your first full day back in France after Christmas in the U.S. so you were a bit sleep deprived. Even though you really didn't know me, you held out your arms to me to be held because you wanted to "see da mountains a yittle bit better." After gravely staring at one mountain in particular for a bit, you solemnly announced, "I wish I could yive there, on dat mountain, way way waaaay at the very tippy top in a yittle house wif you." I wish that too, Maggie. Since then, you have never failed to bring a smile to my face and laughter to my heart. I love your perspectives on life, I love how observant you are, how your brain memorizes whole books as easily as a dry sponge under a running sink becomes wet. I love how independent you are, an independence exhibited at my birthday party when you calmly announced at the beginning of each game that you would refrain from playing. And after those games when we were eating our cake, my heart just about melted into a great big puddle when you came up to me and said, "Miss Kafwin! Do you know why I picked a plate wif a heart? It's because I LOVE you SO much!" Let me assure you, the feeling is mutual.

Ben: you are a curly-headed veritable ray of sunshine. I can't help smiling every time I see your face. One of many wonderful memories I have of you is when one day you heard the words "cookies" and "make them" and "eat them" all arranged nicely in the same sentence. You immediately broke out into dance and song, twirling around and around, waving your arms in the most endearing fashion. You have grown and changed so much even since I came here, and even though it makes me sad to know that you will continue to change and grow and I won't get to see it, I feel blessed that I was able to for this short time. Thank you for bringing me so much joy!

Sammy: this kid is full full full of life overflowing. I'm not sure if I've ever seen a child your age who can waddle/run/move quite as fast as you do with those two little legs of yours. It'll be hard to forget the very first time I saw you...you were getting into the cleaning supplies, and after locating the toilet plunger, you found out that your face fit perfectly right into that hole. Ever since then, a whole slew memories have followed of you getting yourself into funny little scrapes, of you screaming/yelling/shouting with impressive gusto down the hallway at whomever cares to listen, of you laughing and laughing and laughing with the laughter penetrating every part of your sweet little face. Thanks for the cuddles on Saturday.

Baby Toby: I can't say I feel very well acquainted with you yet, but I can say that being here in Albertville when you were born was one of the highlights of my time here, and I look forward with great anticipation to see how your little personality unfolds. I've no doubt that it'll be just grand, like your siblings.

To my teacher Anne - vous êtes incroyable!!!! Merci beaucoup pour ta patience, ton travail, et tout les choses que tu fais pour les étudiants. Je suis vraiment reconnaissante pour toi.

To the whole McCropder Team - thank you for welcoming me with open arms to your life in France. I had great respect for you before, and now after actually really spending some time getting to know you, that respect has only increased tenfold. From being with you, I have learned much more about what it means to live in community, about what it looks like to be a missionary, about what it looks like to prepare to be a missionary. About what it concretely means a team of missionaries with a vision. And I've also picked up a number of random medical terms and concepts to boot. I plan to tenaciously follow the remainder of your time here in France and the grand adventures that are yet to come, and it is with great anticipation that I look forward to reading the stories of life in Burundi.

And so after a week long detour in Scotland, it'll be back to life in Michigan. New adventures await - a summer at good old Knox Pres full of awesomeness, trips to Detroit and Nashville, quality time with friends and siblings, and then... another bend in the road.

Goodbye to the dark, echoey, grey-tiled hallways with noisy lights that switch off automatically; goodbye to the terrace with two sturdy chairs and a lot of flimsy ones; goodbye to the France Asia grocery store with the short-grained, sticky rice and kikkoman soy sauce; goodbye to La Mie Caline, representing the plethora of baked goodness that is now closely associated in my head with the culture and country of France; goodbye to the cemetery that overlooks Albertville and that has been a wonderful place to sit and read and contemplate life matters; goodbye to Conflans with your quaint little museum and your beautiful garden and your nooks and crannies filled with imaginative potential and your awesome chateau with a fun climbing wall; goodbye to all the charming little pathways in the mountains that lead to many wonderful places; goodbye skiing with all your harrowing precipices and shaky ski lifts and pristine beauty and breathtaking views; goodbye to the outdoor markets, the smelly cheeses, the grocery stores that have a lot of dairy products, a lot of meat, a lot of sugary cereal, a fine selection of wine, and not much of anything else. Goodbye to my big friends and my little friends. Goodbye Mountains.

Au revoir, Albertville.

Spring is here, and it is time to go home.