Chapter 2 #2
Still, it’s been such a joy to know them and soak up the beauty of Europe.
There’s nowhere quite like it. The history, the architecture…
everything here seems to whisper, adventure lives here.
Like it’s buried in the cobblestones and carved into the old stone walls.
I walked through the alleys of France just three months ago, the kind that feel older than time itself.
Bunting strung along the main street, the old castle and church at the center with its clock bells ready to chime.
Europe isn’t just a place—it’s a feeling.
“I’ll say. Meanwhile, I’m here sweating it out with Mom’s zoo of animals.”
“What’s she got now?” I ask, grinning. Mom’s always had an eclectic mix on the farm. She even had a chimpanzee once. Yes. A pet chimpanzee. You heard that right. It was obsessed with her, too.
“She’s added a new parrot to the collection. And then there’s the usual—our four dogs plus the farm animals.”
“A parrot, huh?” I rest my chin on my hand, on the phone table.
“Not surprising. After the chimp, anything’s possible.
You’re out there living the European dream,” she says, “and I’m sweating under a parrot’s squawk.
” I smile, but something inside me folds inward.
If only she knew… sometimes, adventure can be lonely too.
“Anyway, I know we don’t have much time—give me the juicy stuff. ”
International calls are expensive. I don’t do them often, but today felt worth it. I just ask the Blancs to take it off my paycheck.
“What kind of juicy stuff? It’s looking dry-to-the-bone over here.”
“Men. Gossip. Come on, give me something.” I can practically hear her rolling her eyes over the phone.
“Well… there was a guy who had potential… but that ship has officially sailed.”
A pause on the other line.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me? That’s not news—it would never even make it into a newspaper! Spill it!” she says.
I laugh. “There’s really not much to tell. You know how I’ve always loved a S?o Paulo accent… and this guy had one.”
“And you met him there? In Belgium?”
“Yep. I was an au pair for his daughter. His wife was no longer in the picture. He’s older, a businessman, handsome, Christian… so I thought, hmm, could this be something? But no. He wasn’t the guy.”
It really wasn’t more than a flicker of curiosity.
It was a thought; a ‘maybe’. He had a S?o Paulo accent—the kind that makes you forget your own name for a second—but even that couldn’t hide what was missing.
He didn’t tick enough of the boxes. Not my list boxes, anyway.
The list I prayed over, wrote in my favorite pen, and handed to God.
“Well, I know you’ve got your list.”
“And he didn’t fit it.” I sigh. “There was a spark, but it faded quickly. Also, today, my ski instructor was total eye candy. I was dreamily wondering if I would crash into his arms and he’d catch me, but I happened to crash into his arms, and take him down into the snow. Oops!” I laugh.
A gasp. “No way, that’s hilarious!”
“Other than that, sis, there aren’t any headlines. But quickly, tell me about you! Besides sweating it out with the zoo.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m working, occasionally making a splash at the beach, and just hanging out at home.”
I narrow my eyes, even though she can’t see it. “Really? Just occasionally?” I say with dripping sarcasm. My sister basically has a different skin tone to me at this stage.
“Yes, just occasionally. Like twice a week. Or four times. Whatever.”
I chuckle. “That sounds more like it. How’s college going?”
“Uninspiring. That’s why I needed your updates! Give me a taste of that European drama!”
“I think you’ve been watching too many novelas, sis,” I chuckle. Too many soap operas for her. “Maybe you can come and join me for a month or two out here next year.”
“That would be so fun! We’ll see.” A noise cuts through the background. “Sis, I’ve gotta go. The parrot’s squawking—Mom’s probably home.”
“I can’t wait to meet this parrot,” I say, and I mean it. Mom’s zest for life is contagious. Animals, plants—she collects them all. One summer she even sold plants to neighbors and restaurants. It was totally random, and totally her.
“I’m sure she’ll have it trained to say something outrageous by the time you’re back.”
“I’m ready for it,” I laugh. “Tell mom I’ll call again soon. Love you, sis.”
“Love you!”
Click.
I hang up and move past the concrete walls covered in wallpaper towards my room.
Everywhere in this chalet screams luxury.
I pass by the gilded mirror in the hallway and pause.
My wild curls are just as voluminous as always—humidity does that to them—and a little rose tinting my cheeks from the laughter and snow outside.
It might look like I’m living the dream, and there certainly is a big element to that.
This adventure in itself is an absolute dream I don’t take for granted.
But some days it feels quiet. Too quiet.
I miss the sound of mom’s laughter and even the smell of the farm.
It’s odd, that—manure on normal days would make my nose scrunch up—but now?
It just reminds me of home. There’s so much beauty here in Europe, but it doesn’t feel like home just yet.
I make it to my bedroom. The desk calls to me, quiet and steady.
The sunlight streams in through the window, highlighting the exact spot I’m heading for.
I take a seat as I pull out my pen and some paper to write a letter to my parents.
But, for a second, I think back to the conversation about my list. The list. I have it safely tucked away in the drawer, back in Belgium, but I’ve memorized it like the back of my hand.
I’m not desperate. I know what I want in a man. I know what’s important to me.
Some people don’t think God picks out one person for you—and that’s fine.
But for me? If I trust God with everything, why would I not trust Him to pick out my future husband for me?
He knows me better than I know myself and knows who would fit me best. When I meet the one who fits this list…
I’ll know. Without a shadow of a doubt that it’ll be no coincidence. It’ll be God.
Someday, I’ll have a love that God orchestrated. And I’ll wait for it.
Because when the time comes, God’s version of my story? It’ll be nothing short of breathtaking.