The Cost

Chapter 7-Radical

"Faith does not eliminate questions. But faith knows where to take them." ― Elisabeth Elliot

We arrived on the island the next day.

It was a place you'd expect to see in a movie—nothing but miles of thick jungle behind a beach whose sand glinted yellow under the morning heat. Clean blue water rippled softly on either side of the ferry as we approached a long-forgotten dock stretching out into the deep.

Each of us carried a pack of supplies as we crossed the old but surprisingly strong pier. It took a few minutes to get used to the firm ground beneath me, as opposed to the constant shifting of the ferry.

Long after a chorus of snores began to accompany the sound of a crackling bonfire, I was still looking up in amazement at the vastness of the stars. It seemed to be even more than what I had seen while we traveled on the ocean. Who knew there could be so many?

And yet the God who made all of them had taken time out of His world to reach down into mine.

****

Trish was running deeper into the jungle. I followed behind, too afraid to glance back at the shadows chasing after us. "Come on, faster!" I called.

Suddenly she stopped. At first I thought her shoes were untied or something, and I was going to shout at her to keep running when she turned around, gun in hand. "Jacob, this isn't your fight," she told me as she pulled back the trigger.

****

I woke up sweating, then made myself laugh quietly when I realized it was just a dream. An uneasy laugh but a laugh just the same.

As we trekked deeper into the jungle though, where Sierra told us there would be a small village, it became harder for me to put aside a fact that I soon wouldn't be able to ignore.

What would Trish think about me being a Radical? Everyone here had been excited when I told them my decision—some who I'd traveled with were caught off guard but happy nonetheless. But both Trish and I had been trained to believe that religion was a constraint, a component that had to be removed in order for society to promote free thinking.

It was only now that I was beginning to see the irony of that belief system. It was a tolerated intolerance—and I understood now that just because everyone seemed to accept it as reality didn't make it the truth. Truth stays, whether the majority accept it or not.

For a village in the middle of the jungle, it was more cultivated than I had expected—cement buildings replaced the images in my mind of straw huts and half-dressed natives. The people, stopping what they were doing or coming out of houses curiously, were dressed like anyone else from my community.

A cluster of people ran to meet Sierra—and from brief conversation, I soon figured out that they were her family. I noticed Kris watching shyly and realized I wasn't the only one who had never been here before. Everyone seemed to accept us without question though.

Despite the fact that they weren't half-civilized natives, they did have a pretty impressive dance around a bonfire after a meal the equivalent of a banquet. I sat cross-legged with some of the others, watching the action as drums rolled and flutes whistled in the background.

Suddenly my hand was grabbed eagerly. "Come on!" Kris said excitedly. Before I could protest, several of the others were edging me on and I had no choice. I couldn't help smiling though. Maybe this was what family was supposed to be like—just enjoying life together.

****

The night wasn't quite so gracious after we had each found ourselves a place to stay in one of the open homes of the villagers. Unsettling dreams slid in and out of my semi-consciousness.

Sierra hadn't heard anything more about Trish, but she expected to be contacted soon. I wondered again: what would Trish think about all this? Could she ever accept my new way of life?

Unable to sleep, I slipped out of my bed and crept from the house. Shadows still covered the earth from nightfall with a sprinkle of stars, though the sun was just beginning to wake the sky. In the distance was a cliff I had spotted earlier, which I had heard gave an all around view of the whole island. I looked out over the barely visible details of the jungle to my left, then the calm dark of the ocean opposite.

Here I was safe. I could talk freely about what I believed and ask questions without consequences following. There were no enforcers like the ones back at home, though the villagers had established their own small governmental system which allowed anyone to believe as they thought right.

Then I remembered Ben Joshua, how I never would have even known what a Christian is—much less Jesus—if he hadn't started me on my journey to search by speaking out. How many more were like me back where I had come from, never hearing and never knowing what would happen to them after they died? Never knowing what Jesus did for them? Never allowed to think outside of what they'd been taught?

The early morning sky glowed with sharp and fiery colors against the horizon as I stood decisively.

****

"Go back?" Sierra exclaimed when I told her. "Jacob, do you have any idea what it took to get us here? How many loopholes we had to find so we could even leave?"

I sat quietly on the grass, patiently letting her rant on. Let her get it all out, I thought.

When she finally took a pause for breath, Kris jumped in. "How would you even get there?"

I knew the ferry we'd used to get here had already left for other ports unknown to most. One person I'd overheard had claimed that some of the crew was made up of smugglers. "Well, you plan to have some people who got missed to come here, right?" I asked.

Sierra and Kris nodded.

"However they get here is what I can use to get back."

Sierra sighed. "I know."

I glanced at her. "So why are you trying to stop me?"

"Why am I trying to stop you? What kind of question is that?" Silence. Then, "Fine. I just don't what you to get hurt. Ben Joshua was too close; we almost lost him."

Kris elbowed her. "Awwww...Well I don't want you to get hurt either," she said to me. "But if you really feel that's what you're supposed to do, I'm not going to be the little Miss Mama that tries to stop you."

I smiled at Sierra. "I'm nervous, but I'm not afraid. Believe me, I prayed about it. This is what I'm supposed to do. Think about all the people who will never hear unless someone goes to them? I certainly wouldn't have."

Sierra stood and dusted the damp grass off her shorts. "Well if you're going to be that stubborn about it," she said, finally smiling a little, "maybe God really has told you to go back."

Kris and I stood up with her. "You know someone once told me," I said, "that God is always speaking. We just need to unplug our ears and listen."

Sierra sighed. "Well, I guess I can't take that back, can I?"

We laughed a little, and I was relieved to know I was back on her good side. The seriousness of my decision could settle in later.