I have decided that I'm not a fan of realism. I just got back from a rather impractically planned adventure. I took a twelve-ish hour bus ride to north eastern Quebec to learn French for five weeks. For starters it was impractical because my bus left at 12 am, or something crazy like that. Why would I buy a ticket for such an ungodly hour? Especially when I live in a super sketchy town. It was because of the second impractical aspect of this whole adventure. I didn't speak French, like at all. I knew how to say "Good day, or morning, or night, my name is Laurissa, I do not know, and I do not understand, but it is very poetic, and I like potatoes, yes! good? Well? Bad? No? Maybe. Excuse me thank you my friend." (That is literally very close to all I knew how to say but you'd be surprised how many different things you can say by rearranging the words in that sentence.) So I didn't know French and I had signed a sheet promising to only speak French for five weeks. I was going to be living in a stranger's house and going to school with more strangers and I wouldn't be able to speak English with any of these strangers. To top it all off I was going to arrive alone in a strange city where few people spoke my language after a 12 hour bus ride and have to figure out how to get a taxi. I didn't want to face this mountain at night so I left in the night so I would arrive in the day. It wasn't a very reasonable thing to do, it could have been dangerous. But at the last minute my roommate volunteered to drive me to the bus station and all is well that ends well.
The day we all got sorted into our classes the head of the program spoke to us in English one final time. He said that everyone in class one or two (I was in class one) was very courageous, and in my head I wondered if he was using courageous as a synonym for foolish. The whole first week I kept asking myself what I was doing there. I didn't understand my professor and it seemed like everybody else did. I didn't understand my roommates who were in class six and could have full out conversations with each other or with our host. I definitely didn't understand our host. I was relived that my roommates could do most of the talking, but he kept asking me questions and trying to include me in the conversation and challenging me to use French and I just really wanted to go hide. Nothing about this makes me think going there was a reasonable decision and in that first week I wondered "Why did I waste money to come here? I'm probably not going to learn anything. I'm too stupid. Everyone else here is smarter than me. I am slow in English and in French I'm down right stupid. Everyone probably hates me." But you know what? Five weeks later and I made friends, learned French, got better at charades and interpreting context, learned about a culture very important to my country, and grew as a person. It wasn't a very reasonable decision but I'm glad I made it.
When my five weeks were up I got on a bus at about ten in the morning on a Friday and finally got off my last bus at about 12:30 on the Saturday. Everyone kept asking me why I was travelling so far.Was I from that far away? Nope. I was going to a wedding. Yep that's right, more than 24 hours on a bus or in a bus station just for one day and night reunited with old friends to celebrate the marriage of a lady I look up to very much. Not only that but I got there about a half an hour before the ceremony started and had to change into my dress in the church bathroom. Please tell me what about this is reasonable? But you know what? I am so happy I did this. The close call was stressful but it makes a funny story and it was so worth all the hours and money I put into travelling to see all these people again and celebrate the love of one of the ladies I look up to.
All of this pondering was brought on by a conversation I had in broken French with my lovely colocataire in Quebec. I had been reading this book about this pastor's wife who was very poor and couldn't have babies so she went and adopted 12 unwanted children because she just wanted to love on them even though she and her husband didn't really have the funds. It worked out though. One way or another those babies were clothed, fed, and loved. So I read this book and I was like holy cracker jacks screw school I just want to be a mum, I just want to be done school and married and opening up my doors and my cupboards and my arms to all the broken, lonely, hungry, unloved children in this here world. Why is loving so complicated I wailed in broken French. Why do I need a husband and money and a house and food and to be approved by an adoption company and probably a job why can't I just get on with loving the world? And I would just like to say that I love my colocataire and I think she is a lovely poetic lady with a giant ocean of a heart and so much love its just that she also has a drop of reason, but its a good solid balance to all her poetry.
I think she said something along the lines of that I need money and maturity and things like that to make my love helpful. It's all well and good to open up our arms with good intentions but if we don't add a bit of reason to those intentions we could end up making a mess of our attempts to love the universe.
And there is truth in that. Want to know what I mean? Just read or listen to some academic discourse about the true complexities of helping out overseas and how guilt ridden rich people can sometimes cause more pain than joy in their attempts to ease their guilt in a week long volunteer trip.
So yeah there is some truth in it, but I'm still not convinced. And I mean nothing bad to my lovely colocataire. It's just that, some of the best things that have been done in this world were done by people that everyone thought were fools, until they succeeded.
Also lets look at Jesus. The biggest fool ever if that story ended differently. He stood up to the authorities and spoke with authority that no person had given him. He hung out with the outcasts. He didn't fight back at his death. What the heck Jesus? What the heck?
But He was the Son of God dawg and His death saved lives and his wacky way of life? Well billions everywhere are stumbling in those wacky footsteps.
The problem is a lot of people have done a lot of horrible things in the name of the greater good, in the name of God. But if its really Jesus your following your steps may seem crazy in the moment but they are really the best steps you could take.
Sometimes it pays to take risks and to walk outside of the realm of reason. Sometimes it ruins lives. It all depends. Are you following a reason greater than that of the masses (like Jesus did) or are you just going off of your own unreasonable reason? Cause that could get any of us in trouble.
P.S. the first examples I used are not so much examples of following Jesus' radical life as they are just relatable metaphors for unreasonable movements and an explanation of how my thought process got sparked and a fun commentary on my life recently.
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