No, this is not Paris.

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered. So, if we’re asking Chesterton to define adventure for us (as well we might), it has begun, and in no uncertain terms. Regardless of the fact that we are not leaving today for Paris as planned. Soon, but not yet.

Sigh.

A few weeks ago, with growing uneasiness over the ambiguous status of bureaucratic necessities – such as visas – we contacted the French consulate regarding what remained to be done. To our horror, we discovered that papers had not been pushed to their proper bureaucratic cubbyholes before that all-important European holiday known as August.

Consequently, we set out on a journey to the exotic city of Chicago, where the French visa service holds court. On our midnight bus, we read a little Charles Spurgeon to pass the time:

The grandeur of the arch of heaven would be spoiled if the sky were supported by a single visible column and your faith would lose its glory if it rested on anything discernible by the carnal eye.

As if on cue, our bus broke down in the middle of wisconsin, smack dab in-between a cheese shop and a cornfield. Far, far away from Chicago, where our hopes rested on a 9 o'clock appointment at the French Consulate. With nothing else to lean on, the Lord was extremely near. It turned out to be a beautiful day to trust in Jesus. His peace held firm in our hearts, and his timing was perfect. Though five hours late for our scheduled appointment, our abrupt arrival as haggard travellers in their prim downtown offices prompted quite the scuffle and investigation into our situation. The result? We leave for Paris sometime within the next couple of weeks, after Abbey goes back down to Chitown after everything is reglé.

Yes, Chicago! Since we were there, we made the most of being in one of America’s most fascinating cities, a first time for the both of us. We heard some free jazz saxophone at the Cultural Center, gaped at the wonderous Millenium Park, happened onto the Art Institute’s free Thursday evening, rich with treasures, had martinis in a swank lounge, ate large sandwiches with an astounding amount of meat and cheese, and consequently slept like babies on our bus back home to Minneapolis.

The Pritzker Pavilion in Millenium Park may need elegant curves and arches to support the state-of-the-art sound system. But God has so fashioned our lives that our faith must rest on nothing visible, making it worlds more glorious than anything we could dream up.

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