C’est la fête des mères en France aujourd’hui… without much more than a whim for a plan I seem to have planned it just right to have two Mother’s Days in one month– France celebrates the mother two weeks later than America.
But I’m alone, no children in sight, so how to celebrate? Because I do love the celebratory life of all six children having safely reached adulthood… why not celebrate again in France?
It’s Sunday so all the church bells are ringing in Angers where I came to attend the literary conference aptly named Possible Futures (the whim)…
But that was yesterday. Today I searched for a church nearby. If you want to get to know people in a community, consider church, if you can. If you are trying to learn French, you will get to hear it sung, and sing along, if you like.
I found a small Presbyterian church a few blocks from my hotel where they sang from hymnals, and I recognized some melodies. A beautiful black woman whose face radiated joy gave the message. (In Paris, I attend Hillsong in Place d’Italie where I am a minority, but not at this church).
Afterwards, a couple greeted me and we had a nice conversation, once I asked them to slow down. The husband spoke English, but we kept to French. They introduced me to the German woman who sang and played the flute during the service and I sincerely complimented her lovely voice. She wanted to speak English, which was helpful in translating an idiom offered in response to my adventures: to be happy in France is to live like God.
This struck my heart as my reason for being here. The quest for happiness seems futile when gone at directly, yet it becomes the byproduct of a good life, well-lived. I continually ask myself what I am doing here, not because I have no idea, but as an inquiry into the drive to continually put myself through the discomforts of travel, and trying to communicate in a different culture, possibly adopting it as my own.
Walking into a church where I know no one and speak only a modest amount of French is an act of faith, of throwing myself out there, hoping I won’t end up under the pew. And yet, therein lies the excitement of anticipation— what might happen next? Will I be able to converse with these people? Will they want to talk to me?
After four or five good conversations, including one with the pastor, Loic, and the speaker with the joy-filled face, Elise, I was ready to continue on my way, overflowing with joy on this bonus Mother’s Day.
Are you throwing yourself out there, wondering what might happen next? I hope so. May you enjoy all the abundance life has to offer.
To that end I offer a quote from John Patrick Shanley: Many mistake comfort for fulfillment, but fulfillment is a rough and tumble affair. Don’t be afraid of pain. Don’t be afraid of death. Fear the allure of an over-upholstered life.
