I’ve known Livia for over three decades. The longest I’ve known any of my current adult friends. My Mom tells me stories about going shopping for her wedding, with Livia’s mom (her wedding godmother as well). We are second degre cousins. We share a great-great grandparent. My genealogist-by-nature mom would know. And we used to visit each other often. As a kid I still remember the delicious food I ate at her house, and I remember my brother playing chess with her brother.
She genuinely and warmly has invited us to visit her at her beautiful home in the South of France. On several occasions. But the first few times I filed away the invitation in the back of the mind. We’ve crossed many paths, over many years, but we always came as a package deal, in our friendship and connection.
The first time we went back to California, a year into our move back to Cluj, Livia’s trip there overlapped with mine. And because I had access to a car there and I was quite familiar with Silicon Valley, I would pick her up and we would go places: to get coffee, eat sushi, go shopping, visit friends across the Valley. It was a time away from the pressures and responsibilities that come with being home, for both of us. I still remember walking to get coffee in downtown Willow Glen, or shoe shopping for a few hours at DSW. Or the Psalm class we attended at 7 AM at PBCC, or ta Hobbies with Brian, in San Francisco with Elsie and Coco, communion dinner at Beth and Ken. It was dreamy. Indeed.
Fast forward two years. In South of France for mostly a rainy week. Conrad tense from work, day in and day out in front of a computer, and increasingly oppressing routine, but especially the Cluj traffic. We hopped on a plane and flew for two hours: Cluj-Lyon. We rented a car and took the scenic route down south. We were there for the French strike, where roundabouts would be blocked, and traffic slowed to a halt… but somehow we breezed through but mostly we stayed put around Livia’s area for the week.
The mornings were smooth. We would wake up to Jackie playing quietly with the three trolls she brought with her. Conrad would make yume coffee and we would sit in the large kitchen, taking in the greenery outside the large windows. We planted flowers when it wasn’t raining, we cooked together, we watched Harry Potter, one movie nearly every night and we talked till past midnight almost every day. It was a time of healing in areas I didn’t even know I needed. That sense of cozy timelessness. Jackie slept in her own room. And I was inspired. Inspired by Livia’s youthfulness of heart, her joy and daily gratitude, her passion for God, her generous serving and attentiveness in all things. We had another slice of heaven. And Conrad got to hike in the woods all around, in rain or shine. And Jackie talked to her hearts’ delight, and sang and learned all kind of new things, including about 20+ words in French and essential saying. Brilliant little girl with a hungry mind.
The locals we interacted with this time were kind, friendly and attentive. Refreshing.
And while listening to Livia’s heart, sharing my mind as well, I found myself easy to be generous, and a prayerful heart would burst full with delight and hope.
I came home, and life started in full speed. The first day was packed. It was my first day of volunteering at a day center for kids who come from hard places. On my first day I helped 6th-7th grade kids with their math homework. I had to smile to myself. It was like being a Creative again, but not in a posh city, but on the other end of the spectrum… yet the fulfillment of such serving, teaching a willing mind, is always rich. Then I rushed from the Day Center straight to kindergarten to pick Jackie up.
This weekend is a big holiday in Romania: 100 years of Independence. And the city has quieted down in most areas except probably the city center where a big parade and probably fireworks took place. We just went for a refreshing hike nearby and then we did something special…
A recently much closer friend shared, as a matter of fact, that she is spent. Spent from being with four kids day in and day out. A handful. As all kids can be, especially if their age ranges between almost 2 and 9. You know, someone shares something they struggle with, and it’s usually in their power to make a change. Or we simply don’t meddle. Because why get in the middle of other’s people’s business or lives. But this time it was clear to me. I knew and I felt like I had the resources to do something. I volunteered Conrad, J and I to babysit so my friend and her husband can go on a date. Before going to France, a nagging feeling of “what about me?” was a roadblock. Who wouldn’t want a quiet evening to themselves, especially if you have kids yourself. Babysitting is not something you volunteer to do. …Or is it?
And my desire to serve and love my friend this way, didn’t waver. I believe it’s important to make time for your spouse. While there is still time. My heart for good healthy marriages is still engaged and filled with strong belief. I thank my in-laws for this clarity of mind and heart. I don’t feel guilty, instead I feel proud, to make time for just my husband. And I tell Jackie that mommy and daddy will be able to provide better for her, and love her better, if we take time to connect. This has been the number one excuse for her bedtime earlier than ours. Mommy and daddy need to talk a bit, to connect, to sit in silence. The other day Jackie asked us to discuss a particular need/wish of her when I talk with daddy after we put her to bed. She is quick like that.
All in all, taking care of ourselves first, filling our mind and heart with good and healthy things, talking and exercising listening, awaking your heart to truly see the one sitting in front of you… that is what gives you confidence that you are worthy to be seen and loved as well. If I were to simplify in laymen terms… because, I returned from France with a refreshed reminder that all the good things we are called to do, we already received them, and we are abundantly blessed with by our Father. Daily. If only we had eyes to see. And prayer is a privilege. A gift to us. Never a chore.
