Beyond France

To contact us Click HERE
(from Eric:  Today's post comes from our special guest blogger Kathryn Wong.  She is a friend of ours from Michigan, and a blessing to our families, as she visits and studies with us for a few months.  She is also a great writer, and so we thought you might enjoy hearing from her as a different perspective on our lives here.  Read her own blog here.)
Here they are. Three families, threesingles, and seven – soon to be eight – kids living in the Alps ofSoutheast France. Living in this land of baguettes, cheese, and wine,of majestic mountains and rich history. Living in a land thatdisplays culture and cultivation at its finest.
But it doesn't take long to figure outthat this year of living in France is really not at all about France.You walk down Le Chemin des Galibouds, what seems to be a verynormal, peaceful, residential little French street until you arriveat the blue and green sign that reads: Centre Chrétiend'Enseignement du Français. Turn into this driveway, and you'll finda collection of connected, faded white, somewhat weathered buildingswith dark brown roofs surrounding a small parking lot. And here inthis place, people live with a purpose, for the most part with apurpose decidedly beyond France. People going to Mali, to Togo, toChad, to Burundi.
Living with the focus beyond Francemanifests itself in a multitude of different ways. Hardly a day goesby when I don't observe something – different actions, words,gatherings – directed towards what is yet to come.
Aunt Sarah practices the alphabet withAbi each week. I watch them hard at work – jumping from letter toletter, Abi receiving stickers as a reward for her endeavors. Apreparation for and a mere foreshadowing of what's to come. She isnow learning who each of these little people are, and her role in thelives will be enormous.
Pastor Bob flies across the ocean tovisit the McCropders. Why? To discuss Christianity in the context ofFrench culture? No. To look forward. Ahead and into the future oflife in Burundi. To wrestle with issues of how to present the gospelin a transformative way to the Burundians. Not a word of France ismentioned. Eleven adults, crammed into the Cropsey's apartment,focused on what is yet to come.
Not all McCropders are natural languagelearners. Some enjoy it, but not all. For many it's a strugglesynonymous to scaling Mount Blanc (and indeed some may prefer thatmore physical challenge!) Yet they persist in le discoursindirect, in mastering les pronoms compléments, in themind-bending game of communicating correctly with the subjonctif,conditionnel, imparfait, passé composé... Why do they willinglysubject themselves to the seemingly insurmountable difficulties oflearning an entirely new language with all that it entails? Tostudying extensive, imaginary dialogues in their textbooks betweenrather petty, shallow French women celebrating their thirtiethbirthdays. To essentially putting themselves back in the shoes of achild, just learning how to speak. Why? Because of what's to come.
On Sunday nights they gather as a team.This time crammed in the Fader's apartment, they enjoy the Galettedes Rois – a French epiphany cake – whilst they listen tosermons and work on the aspects of their team covenant, articulatingin words their mission statement for beyond France. They pray for andwith each other. They're preparing themselves for life in Burundi bylearning the language, but underneath the constant verb conjugationsand new vocabulary, they're preparing themselves in many more waysthan by simply learning the language.
A common refrain is, “It's on thecontainer.” Yes, there is a piano that the McLaughlinspacked...I don't have that book with me here, but I do think we putit on the container...Yes, yes that's on the container...No, we don'thave that with us here, but it's on the container... Theyare even materially focused ahead. They will never use this furnitureagain. They will never use many of these bulky winter clothes again.They will not use these dishes, or these French coffee presses, orthis silverware once the year is up. The future of their materiallifestyles is packed up, sitting somewhere in Ann Arbor in a bigmetal container. Eyes are focused on what is yet to come.
The marketplace inBurundi burns to the ground. Attentions are riveted on this event.Something has happened hundreds of miles away, and according togoogle maps 6,000+ miles, that has powerfully impacted their future.There is a detachment from the place that they now live, from thecurrent events of the locals; there is a deep connection with a placesome of them have never been to before.
Lest you get thewrong impression, however, let me assure you it is by no means alldetachment from France. Each Saturday many a McCropder hits the skislopes, fully aware that this may very well be the last opportunityfor winter sports that will present itself in decades. On Friday, thecélibataire McCropders enjoyed a delicious, French raclette dinnerat the McLaughlins. Crêpes and cheese and French bread abound ingreat quantities. McCropders help out with French Sunday school, theyattend Friday night Old Testament Bible Studies with the Frenchchurch, they're involved in the French youth group. As time andchildren allow, they travel, exploring the vast amounts of historyand culture and legacy that surround them. And so they do embraceFrance and the great opportunity that a year in Europe presents.
And yet something brews within thesewalls that is much more than just learning a new language and livingin a spectacular country.
Toujours, the McCropders look ahead.