Well, I am long overdue to post something, but I promise it hasn’t been wasted time. I’ve been seriously considering running a series, an ongoing story, about how I wound up living in Switzerland for three and a half years. Let me tell you, the year prior to this move all they way through to moving back to the States, I have never seen God more tangibly active. God-incidences and miracles abounded. So, this will be the first installment, and I promise to post more often so as not to torture you.
First let me set the stage. Spring 1998. Two dear friends came over to play Spades. We loved getting together whenever we could to play this lively game. It was an enjoyable evening like so many others we had spent together. Then they dropped the bomb on us. They were moving to Switzerland. Needless to say my mouth dropped open to my knees.
My first thought? Whatever for!?
They wanted to live abroad. I didn’t know that. He’d been looking for a job in France, their first choice, but his one presented itself first. I didn’t know that either. Wow! Okay, I can see this could be a really cool experience.
My brain went to my second thought. I’m going to miss you terribly, BUT have a wonderful time. Keep in touch and let us know when you’re moving back. Finished. What else could I say?
We had a final evening of Spades, said our farewells, and off they went. I was amazed. A move like that took courage in my book. We kept in touch. Learned the hard way you should sign up for a foreign long distance calling plan before contacting friends in Europe. A very expensive lesson, but oh well. They were so far away.
Then Summer came, and so did the phone call that would set into motion a trip I never imagined. Our friend called my husband at work with news. They needed more people. How soon could he get over there?