Great is Thy Faithfulness in French

I love cathedrals. The medievals gave all of themselves to creating beautiful structures that would last hundreds of years...even if they knew they wouldn't live to see the finished product.

And every time I have to privilege to marvel at a cathedral in person, my heart swells with gratitude to the Lord for these men who used their hands and ingenuity to bless us and to encourage us to literally lift our eyes to the heavens.

During my recent trip to France, I got to see the gleaming new Notre Dame after the restorations from the fire a few years ago. It was like she was brand new!

And then we took a day trip to Norman town of Rouen, the city known for the burning at the stake of Joan of Arc, and the setting of the wonderful story The Little Duke. (Ambleside book recommendations are so amazing!)

It was my first time there seeing the Rouen cathedral, the subject of a handful of Monet's paintings at different times of the day.

My friend, Jane, who calls herself uncultured (and we make fun of her for it) and who does not particularly love art, sat pensively on one of the small wooden chairs while the rest of the strolled around the inside.

And when we left, she said, "If I was responsible for chiseling even one stone of this cathedral, I would be so proud. The skill and mastery required of each small piece of this huge building is astounding!"

Yes, it's hard not to look up inside a cathedral. And it's hard not to marvel.

And yet, there was another church experience that made my heart swell even more profoundly. But there was no stained glass, no flying buttresses, and the building was maybe the ugliest one we entered the whole week of our trip.

Every time I get to go to France, there is a sadness that I feel when I walk around and observe people. This people who live on the richest soil of a heritage of faith, seem so darkened to the Gospel and to Christ. And I pray for them with a heavy heart.

But our visit to the Église Biblique Baptiste de Paris gave me such a hopeful perspective. They sang the same songs and studied the Scriptures verse by verse just like my home church does and I felt such a camaraderie of faith as brothers and sisters in Christ although we had never met before.

I stood up and got to introduce our small visiting group to the church and they welcomed us with such joy. And for the first time ever in France, I felt like I was with people that I knew intimately because of the bond we share. Hearing them sing, pray, and give testimonies to recount His faithfulness, filled my heart to the brim.

Here is the clip of us singing Great is Thy Faithfulness together.

Since it was originally written in English, there are a variety of French translations to the lyrics but the first line of this version says:

Dieu, ta fidélité va jusqu'aux nues

God, your faithfulness reaches to the skies

It's interesting that in the Scriptures and in this hymn, the word "ta" is used to say "your". In French, we use "votre" to express formality and respect. A distinction that the English language does not have.

But it's clear from the Scripture and from the hymn that in Christ, He is our intimate Father. We get to address the Creator of the Earth with the familiar "your" and we get to praise His faithfulness as His child.

The pastor spoke from Titus 2:11, "For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people.." and he highlighted the same sentiment. That because of this grace, we are saved and have complete access to our Father. No protocols required. We get go to straight to Him.

I wrote down this encouragement he spoke over us:

Enlève le regard vers le Seigneur.

Lift your gaze toward the Lord.

The walls of the church were plain and the ceilings were unvaulted, but being reminded of his faithfulness reaching to the skies and being encouraged to look above to my Savior, really did the powerful work of lifting my head. And my heart is still full thinking about this sweet time with Parisian believers.

To be fully transparent, life is full of various trials right now for me. It has been a trying few weeks of disciplining my mind to take my thoughts captive. But how kind of my Father to constantly encourage me and remind me of His character.

Even during a Sunday morning in Paris with complete strangers, He ministered to me. And so I recount his "fidélité' that reaches toward the skies, and I can't help but lift my "regard vers le Seigneur".