Spring, 2022. Can we say, “we made it”? All around people breath sighs of relief that the pandemic is weakening. Confinement measures are loosening. Where we are, masks are mostly not mandatory. You can now bisou your family, friends, neighbours. It’s been two years. A little more.

The picture above shows the shelves of a local supermarket at the start of the pandemic. People were scared. They bought out the store, preparing for the worst. Like literally, people felt that the end-of-days was upon us, that roving bands of bandits would soon run amok, law and authority would disintegrate. They were hunkering down in part of because of this fear, but also because the government was soon to ban any unnecessary movement in public. Do you remember those days? We went weeks not being able to leave our home! Only one person per household was allowed to leave the home, and then for only one hour, and then only for a trip with a purpose considered essential. That was usually me — I would get to the supermarket, and scan the shelves for whatever was left and edible.

It was an eerie trip to make. It often reminded me of the time back in Urumqi during the riots in 2009. People were scared. They barricaded themselves in their xiaoqu’s, arming themselves with poles, sticks, axes, long knives, pulverizing hammers… Whenever I had to go out, I had to be incredibly careful because I could be mistaken as a potential threat (because I was not Chinese). Fortunately, we had lived there long enough that, as I approached a milling crowd full of nervous armed people eyeing me, someone could shout out, “He’s ok, he’s a foreigner in our xiaoqu!” and everyone would exhale and let me pass. Who was the enemy?

The past two years the enemy has been the virus. Sometimes though we let each other become the enemy too. “Who’s infected? Who’s not being careful enough? Who’s making choices I don’t agree with?” Finally. Finally, we are past the worst, on the outside. I think many of us still need to address the worst inside of us. That’s not a bad thing. Lots of bad things happened, and it was hard, and how were we to react?

Both my parents died while I was overseas, and I could not be there with them to see them onward. They and I were ready for that possibility. For years now, when we would say bye at the airport, we would acknowledge that this might be “Good Bye”. The first time we said “Good Bye” like that was really tough — maybe it was when I left as a married man. It was tougher when we left with their grandchildren. But we would never ignore what might happen, and we would tell each other what we needed to say, just in case. So our goodbyes tended to be pretty intense. But fulfilling. So not being there when the worst did come to pass was incredibly difficult. But we had already said goodbye, too. How can I say more? My tears suffice.

OK, so the title of the post hints at something positive, and I’ve somehow wandered into moroseness! Let me share. When you agree to follow God, you really never know what might be around the corner. Our years here in France are coming to a close. We’ve all learned French (some of us better than others). We’ve helped the local church as best we can. We’ve made a positive impact on the people around us. But we have reached a turn in the road. This turn points northeast of us, to a region in southwest Germany known as the Black Forest. In the Black Forest, where there are no bears, is a small town, with a bustling school. The town is called Kandern, and the school, Black Forest Academy. Over this past year God moved us to consider enrolling our kids there; this would necessitate Michelle and I either sending the kids as boarders, or applying to serve there. So we did what of course we would do! We applied to serve!

Recently, we finished the application process for all four of us, and received word back that we had all been accepted! We hadn’t shared much during this process as we wanted to be sure what their response would be before telling everyone. Well, what does this mean? It means that we will be moving to Kandern, Germany, later this summer to begin a new chapter of our overseas life at BFA. Michelle will be teaching elementary. I will be teaching slightly older grades with ELL as a focus. Liberty and Van will have a new English-speaking environment to thrive in, filled with children who, like themselves, have already lived in various and diverse places and situations. And staffed by teachers who care for the well-being of the students.

So. Something new on the horizon. Looking back, that horizon is rather bleak and grey. Looking ahead, the horizon looks colourful and promising. Thank you for your continued prayers, support, friendship, emails, letters, pics! Every contact with you is a blessing.

Love to you all! Shane, Michelle, Liberty and Van