Paris: I'm grateful.

The couture shop windows have been reflecting some very overcast skies lately. They lavishly display holiday items adorned with ribbons, glitter and exorbitant price tags. Light-strung and glistening trees line the cobblestone streets, and under them hundreds of scarf-wrapped travelers bump into one another as they clamor through the German Christmas markets for a handful of roasted marrons (chestnuts), a sugary gauffre (waffle), or steamy, fragrant cup of vin chaud (hot wine). Christmastime has arrived in the city.

Though I'm still taken by Paris and its twinkle this time of year, I find myself longing for home and wishing I could be with my mom in the kitchen preparing a hearty, home-cooked Thanksgiving meal for our family.

That aside, I'm grateful.

I'm grateful I do have a loving family back at home who is missing me, too.

I'm grateful for mornings I wake up tired, because it means I stayed up late Skyping a best friend.

I'm grateful for the frosty air that makes my nose numb and my eyes watery, because it means I'm walking the streets of Paris.

I'm grateful that the church I [try to] attend is an hour away because it means I have a place to worship the One who is with me during the good days and the difficult days.

I'm grateful for a 5-year-old's sulking and complaining after every meal I prepare, because it means I have a kitchen to cook in and plenty of ingredients to pour my creativity into.

I'm grateful for the frustration that the language barrier creates, because it means I'm always learning.

...but I'm not grateful for changing diapers. Ew forever.