Ever since sixth grade geography class, I’ve dreamed about going to France—maybe because I’m a diehard romantic-foodie-art-lover that has always been fascinated by the avant-garde Parisian fashion. Even the language intrigues me—everything always sounds plus chic in French.
Over the past twenty years that I’ve known my husband and within our fourteen years of marriage, he’s endured my French fetish and endless whining about how I must experience a steamy latte and fresh baked croissant in a quaint café, strolling down the Champs-Elysées. And shop in a real boutique. And marvel at the Mona Lisa in the Louvre. And strike a pose in front of the Eiffel Tower.
Knowing I’d never let my dream die, Chap promised that he’d get me to Paris before I turned forty. Well— I turn forty this year, so his plan looks glib. But then a miracle happened on the day my book, Lion Heart and Alessio: The Victory Ride, arrived at my front door. It was the first time I’d held my book in my hands and seen it in print.
To celebrate, we had dinner plans with another couple at La Bourgogne restaurant—yep— French.
As we’re digging into our Chevre and Tomato Galette, our friends tell us that they’ve booked a castle in Provence, expenses paid, and would like us to join them.
Could this day get any better? Yes, it can. And it does. After we’ve indulged in our five-course succulent meals, and have planned and gushed over the infinite possibilities of our trip, we realize we’re the last ones in the restaurant. As the hostess approaches the table, our husbands pull out their wallets to pay. But she says, “The bill has already been paid.” Ends up, it was paid for by “Anonymous.” True story.
The Castles Private Pool
So, pretty much a no-brainer. WE’RE GOING TO FRANCE! We spend two weeks in our expenses paid castle in Provence and will spend the last week in Paris. To prepare for our trip we’ve been taking French lessons. So far, I’ve learned to say with big eyes, chin down, “Desole. Je ne parle pas Francais (Sorry, I don’t speak French). But I’m still plugging away at it.
Our Private Garden!
I’m beside myself cheerleader-kick-EXCITED! My hubby’s stoked, too, because he’s finally off the hook. He keeps saying to me, “See. I told you I’d get you to France before you turned forty.”
I could go on forever on how God has exceeded my expectations for this trip. Instead, I’ll just say this. Keep dreaming big and don’t give up! Your greatest desire may happen when you least expect it . . . and better than you ever imagined!
May he grant your heart’s desires and make all your plans succeed. PSALM 20:4
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