Where Everybody Knows Your Name

A couple weeks ago my life changed radically. It wasn’t a tragedy or an unforeseen event that caused the change, but rather, a decision made by my husband and me to move to Strasbourg, in the Alsace region of France. Having spent the past 14 years living in a three-bedroom, three-bath home on the shores of a quiet lake in northern Minnesota, we knew there would be difficult adjustments in making the shift to apartment living in an urban area with half a million people.  Surprisingly, getting used to city life hasn’t been all that difficult. A lot of that is due to the fact that Strasbourg, and the entire region of Alsace is such a fantastic place to live.

The city is filled with rich history and it’s wonderfully simple to travel through it by foot, on bicycle or via public transport. Sauntering through its twisting, cobbled streets is like stepping onto a Disney movie set. Canals encircle the city and the spire of its famous Romanesque/Gothic Cathedral rises 466 feet above the city’s center. There are boulangeries, chocolatiers, and cafes on every block. Culinary delights are everywhere!! If you feel like going to a concert, you are sure to find one. If you want to shop, there are many places to choose from. Want to take a walk in a park? There are beautiful green spaces to stroll through.  So, as we would say in the U.S., this is “not a bad gig”! In fact, it is fabulous.

When we decided we would be moving overseas, we began the long process of “down-sizing”. I had begun reading a blog called “Becoming Minimalist” by Joshua Becker many months before, and was inspired and intrigued by the idea of simplifying and getting rid of unnecessary “stuff”. The whole idea of minimalism is that by owning less, we live fuller lives.  At the time I began reading that blog, I had no idea that I would be moving overseas and, out of necessity, would become a minimalist myself. In 9 months time, we got rid of most of our belongings. We threw away copious amounts of stuff, sold some things, and gave away others. Most of these were things that we didn’t really need or care about, but in the process we also parted with some things that were special to us, but were too large to fit in our suitcases (like our golden retriever) or store at my mother-in-law’s house.  We arrived in Strasbourg with 3 suitcases each, plus my guitar. Right now, all my clothing fits in one-and-a-half drawers, plus one meter of hanging space. (I confess I have a couple drawers of clothes back in the States so that when I return for a visit, I have something to wear.) Gone are the shoes I never wore. Gone are the clothes that no longer fit me. Gone is the home décor that I could never find a spot for. Gone are the old magazines that I was going to go through. Gone are the Christmas decorations that didn’t really help me celebrate His birth anyway. Basically, gone is the excess. Gone is the clutter. 

I think I’m going to like this lifestyle. So far, living with less has been like a breath of fresh air.  Our apartment is furnished and the kitchen is well equipped. We have everything we need.  I never thought of myself as a materialistic person before, but when the call came to get rid of it all, I discovered that I was a bit more attached to my “things” than I realized. Having said that, however, I can honestly say that I don’t miss any of that material stuff now.

The things I miss aren’t really “things” at all. I miss my friends and my family and some things that more intangible. Like mist rising off the lake on a cool morning. Or complete silence when I step outside. Bright stars in a black sky. Knowing how to read the labels on my food. Wearing yoga pants and a hoodie to the store. Chatting with everyone in line at the grocery store or bank. Running into people I know everywhere I go. Knowing everyone’s phone numbers and birthdates by heart (I don’t even know my own phone number here). Making a joke with a pop cultural reference and knowing that people will get it. Friends who love me, faults and all, and a few who even claim to love me because of those faults. Basically, I guess I miss the sense of familiarity with everything around me. Fourteen years in one place will do that for you.  It’s that feeling of belonging.  Of being understood and understanding the people around you. Kinda like that old theme song from Cheers that says, “Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name.”

But here’s the thing: that kind of feeling and sense of belonging takes time. It takes a little effort too. Feeling awkward for a little while isn’t going to ruin my life.  But ignoring the call of God just might. So here I am. I’m grateful for the friends we have already made here who have been amazingly gracious and generous in trying to help us adjust and get settled into our new home. I am so thankful for this opportunity to experience something new in my life. It is going to be an adventure unlike any we have had before! Someday, I am confident that this will become that familiar place “where everybody knows my name”. 

I’m hoping to use this blog to write of my experiences here in France and the ways in which God

will use this time to shape my attitudes, my life, and my faith journey.