There and back again, on repeat

It was a sweltering 86 degrees in London while we were there, which was completely unexpected.

It was amazing to be in a city so often mentioned, and written about and so historical and iconic... it's hard to describe, but something happens when you see buildings like "buckingham palace" and "big ben" and "London Eye" and the "tower bridge"... in person instead of just in pictures. It's like reality scrapes out the idyllic expectations stamped in your subconscious of what a place will look like... and things seem bigger or smaller or more colorful or somewhat more dingy and insignificant than the caricatures made them out to be. And some of it's for the better and some of it's slightly more disappointing, and sometimes I wish my great expectations were still in tact, but mostly the reality of a place is far superior to any air-brushed post-card picture. And that's the beauty of traveling: the opportunity of seeing and smelling and taking it all in for your own self, instead of relying on other's eyes to explain what the world looks like for you.

Even so... is it okay that i feel completely exhausted? Not wanting to sound ungrateful or anything - it's all just been A Lot. A lot of motion, a lot of new things and stressful decisions rushing at me; too many sleepless nights in hostels (not in seattle) and a lot of excitement and life-long dreams bursting into reality.. with the looming anticipation of a lot of farewells (for now) and a lot of re-integrating into old friends' lives, and rediscovering my own place back home. It seems like it will take years to fully tell and recount all the funny or dramatic or terrifying or romantic or stretching or embarrassing moments i've lived this past year in Ireland and every where else. It seems exhausting to process it all now, and to help you understand all the lessons i've learned after crossing seas and mountains and desserts and forests, some metaphors and others more literal..

Don't get me wrong, I love everything as best as I know how. I love where I'm at right now, I love the places i've experienced, and the faces I have come to know, as well as the ones I will return to come september first. I'll dream long, vibrant dreams of all the gorgeous scenes i've seen from this world.. And seeing Les Mis. live on stage, and the glorious costumes of the Lion King, and standing amazed at the tower bridge and looking down at the Thames thinking of all the generations of important people who'd reflected in its waters... and all the many adventures I've had in my other recent trip, going from Belgium to Amsterdam, to Prague to Straussburg, to Switzerland (and flying! and rafting! and swimming!) then to Monaco and Nice and Toulon, and lastly, (at long lastly) to Barcelona.... (you see all the movements that makes me feel like the room is still spinning, whirring as if it too were on train tracks)... and then thinking of flying off this Monday to Venice and Rome and sailing around Croatia... How incredibly tired am I! Yet, how incredibly blessed am I! 

 

Here's to all the places left to uncover, and all the footprints our feets have already imprinted. May we be both blessed and a blessing to all the places and faces we have the privilege of understanding.

For the Craic of it

I've discovered that I like my Irish tea-tea strong and white, with two sugars. 

I have acclimated to military time, handling a till with euro currency, J-walking safely, and using the word "lift" instead of "ride" appropriately.

I now know that I can go anywhere in the world and make friends.

My knowledge of Irish Soaps has increased from nothing to ... more than nothing. ;)

And I know what it's like to be a foreigner.

My love for all the people i've met here still surprises and delights me.

And oh, how my eyes have been filled with such beautifully different sights.

I know what it's like to be lonely for something familiar, to be completely lost and trapped.

I know (and I pray I will never forget) that there is no way i could earn God's love.

I have picked up such phrases as, "what's the craic?" "your man over there..." "what's the story?" and "yeah, it was grand." 

I'm filled with so many new thoughts and realizations from this past year, many of which are impossible to form into words. One thing I am most thankful for is how my fear of change has been redeemed, so that I'm no longer held captive to the anxiety of transitions or even farewells, but I can trust God to protect my relationships and my hopes for my present and future. 

I've found Ireland to be different than what I dreamed it to be when I was preparing to arrive a year ago, and rightly so. You know, reality is always better than a dream.

A storyful day

It happened to be a Monday, but more significantly, it was my 5th day of work in a row, which was completely unusual for my part-time working lifestyle. (call me a wimp, but I just haven't been used to a 35 hour work week this past year)

Now, it happens that we have weekly tasks, and after looking at the list, I went, gasping excitedly to Anna, "Can I water the plants?!" Slightly puzzled, she says, "sure."

The thing is, I don't usually work on Mondays, so I'd never seen the plants being watered, and I was kind of like, "how do you stay alive, pretty plants?" because they are quite lovely for coffee shop plants..

Anyway, a part of me was like, "I should know how to water plants - i won't ask for specific instructions."... But after the second potted tree, Anna comes over and asks, "how much water did you put in?" Not sure how to describe the amount, I say, "I guess only a little bit?" She takes the jug and splashes over half onto the plant's roots.

"They only get watered once a week," she explained. Then with a little smile she says, "how would you like to only drink once a week?" To which I laugh at, as I go to get more water.

Now in the shop, we have two leather booths that are back to back and in between them is a line of large, stiff plants that look fairly like they should live under the sea, somehow.

So, I go to water them. And I Wish, Really wish the punch line of this story was that somehow these plants were actually fake or something like that. But no - no, i watered these very real plants with Anna's words replaying in my head, "how would you like to only drink once a week?" Gosh, I wouldn't like it at all! About 2.5 jugs later I was sufficiently satisfied that this line of plants would be thoroughly quenched, and then continued to meet the rest of my lovely, new photosynthesizing friends. 

About 6 minutes after I'd finished my delightful task, the unthinkable happened. Clearing a table near the booth, I notice to my horror that there is a puddle of water oozing out of the side of the wood base of the booth. Shoot.

And you know those moments where problem solving is just far too challenging, because you're so embarrassed at the mistake you've just made? After staring at the puddle for about 4 seconds longer than necessary, I went to get the mop and "caution: wet floor" sign.

Mopping went okay, except that 2 minutes later, the water kept oozing out of the wood.

Okay, so... tactic number 2: use lots of blue rags to clot this awful wound. I watched, with all hope as the water seeped into the dry rags and seem to hold. So, I went back to frothing milk or making change at the till, my eye straying worriedly to the aisle with yellow caution sign, and to my dismay the puddle inching out again and defying my clever rag scheme.

You know those times when you make a mistake, but there's really no way to fix it, besides cleaning up the aftermath mess. Yup. that was me. And so the oozing continued all day long. 

Thankfully, we were rather un-busy all day, and I more hoped than believed that one day, this would make a funny tale to tell.

Little did I know that one of the most amusing moments of my time in Dublin was going to happen a few hours later...

After my oozing water incident, I was honestly quite grumpy. It didn't help that I had to walk much farther that day, because I had to buy another bus pass, which Inconveniently just rose in price that day.

Then waiting for the bus, I was perched on the thin bench when these teens come swooping in from the shopping center. I scoot to the edge to allow them space. And for reasons i'm still unsure of, the red-haired kid next to me began making pretend puking noises.

Um, okay..

So I get up and precede to see if the bus is coming, by any miracle. Noticing that his mute neighbor has fled, the red-head kid jumps up to stand Rather close to me, to the teenage giggles of two of his friends. He says something, but having endured an unusually annoying day, I'm too preoccupied with ignoring them all to remember what it was.

I hate being laughed at, even by teenagers.

And then, the unthinkable happened. With an absolute smirk on my face, I turn to this kid, who was still standing close enough, and I decided in that moment that I would make the most of this situation. I would show them!

"where're you guys headed?" I asked cooly.

He kind of blinked, "Maynooth."

"Oh wow, i am too," which was true.

... and so we preceded to have a conversation. And I even invited him to the next Maynooth Teen Space event that I was leading (where I volunteer with youth). Eventually the bus came though, and I climbed up to the top, rather amused at the turn of events, and excited that I hadn't allowed their mockery to get to me.

And then I heard it from below:

"Yeah, she was from America."

"who? oh that girl who was talkin to ya?"

"Yeah, we actually had a decent enough conversation."

"Wow, Connor, you're so sociable.. I always knew, that's how you're going to find your True Love!" and by this time I am nearly laughing out loud. How old did they think I was??

And then, the girls' voice again:

"Let's go and find your true love!" and then the beat of feet bounding up the stairs.

WOW. True Love. that's intense.

Thankfully, the troop of them passed without recognizing me, but my own conversationalist friend was the last to climb the steps. And, the poor fella- he Actually managed to stumble up the stairs, and unable to suppress my grin, I utter the single syllable, "Hi."

"Hey" he breathes, and marches on.

Then, upon exiting the bus, the group of them sort of clumped together outside the bus, and as I moved to cross the street, I heard one of the friends' voices, "where is she goin?"

But, convinced it was far better to be mysterious than to join their 15-year old babble, I kept on the move, smirking and shaking my head. Oh, to be the topic of conversation for some teenagers on the bus.. :)

Customers, Cappuccinos and Necessary Revisions.

Omar comes in nearly every week day, sometimes twice in the same day, and orders a double espresso, in a small-sized take away cup. He's one of my favorite regulars. There's something absolutely gentle about his demeanor, which makes me so glad to see him every time. When I mentioned I was leaving in a few months, though, he looked at me with such sadness and said, "Oh, Sara, I'm going to miss you."

George always comes in the mornings. His teeth are crooked, and he has a grandpa look about him that's instantly endearing. After he found out I was from America, he would enter the store calling out, "God Bless America" and saluting dramatically, to which the other customers in line would look completely puzzled by, but he would inform them nearly dutifully that I was from America, you know. Meanwhile, I'd be stifling my laughter and half pretending not to notice as I continued to steam milk for a large latte or medium cappuccino. George likes to talk, which is fine, since I enjoy listening to his Irish banter. In the days when I dreaded going into work, especially in the morning, I would remember, oh, but George will be there, and somehow that made it more bearable. :)

Now, we've a nameless customer who comes in multiple times a day. He's Mr. High-Maintenance: vanilla skinny cappuccino small take away (no chocolate powder on top)... I know him by his ever consistent drink... But what would trip me up most is the confusing order of words in which he requested the drink. Right, you mean a Small, Skinny Cappuccino for take away...

For sure, I have learned as many things in this job as I have made large lattes... :) which is a lot, let me assure you. Listening, for instance; I used to have the hardest time remembering the next order and what drinks to make, and all the different parts, but I have learned to keep my ears alert, and gotten accustomed to the rhythm of my coworkers... I used to be rather unfocused too; my mind would be buzzing with so many other things, and I would shrink back every time I made a mistake (which seemed to happen all the time!) and this would only multiply my nervousness... It was difficult to see correction as a way to learn when it only felt like a reprimand. I honestly wanted to quit so many times... but I was realizing today how much I have overcome, and how good it felt to stick it out. And now, even though it's taken so long, I finally (Finally!) can hold my own as a barista. It's not really what I want to do for the rest of my life, but... I can say with some measure of satisfaction that I didn't give up.

After working, living and learning in predominantly Christian contexts, the splash into the "real world" has been considerably icy. For so long, I had been used to the Grace-filled communities, the Encouraging and Sensitivity of teachers and pastors and leaders who earnestly cared. So it was unbelievably difficult to handle harsh and impatient criticism. Being better acquainted with the world was, in so many ways, what I wanted and what I needed though. My self-esteem had to be secure in who I am as God's beloved, and not on what others say or think about me, or even on what I can accomplish or offer. I have learned that criticism is a way to improve, and not to take it personally... but it's still difficult at times.

It's been my most challenging goal that I've given myself to learn how to love my boss, though I considered her an enemy (with her rude and disagreeable nature and ways she made me feel so worthless, etc...) This has perhaps been one of the most profound things I've learned, because I don't often encounter people I feel so absolutely attacked by... but, who knows what God can do in her life?

I have put a huge pressure for everything I do to have some outstanding purpose of furthering God's Kingdom. However, it's occurred to me that my being in Ireland this year and even at Costa Coffee, could serve the purpose of me learning loads about myself and this world and about work and humility and grace, and that is more than grand in itself!

Why'd your hair grow so long...

Time is so slippery. And it never, ever stops.
Today I was telling my coworker that I am leaving Ireland in August, and she was so surprised... and her surprise tugged on me to wish to stay for much, much longer. How has 7 months already gone past so fast?
I've begun to meet some new friends from USIT, and hearing them say they arrived in Ireland a week and a half ago is so strange. I feel so old and experienced in my Irish lifespan... (yearspan:).
So much has happened since coming here, I have this deep desire to gather it all up - all the shades of green, all the sights my eyes have been filled with, all the excess minutes on the bus, all the smells and failed attempts to be brave and all the small victories and tears and bursts of laughter and seal them all away so I can come back to it all whenever I need to. I feel years older, not just months, and I'm wondering how it will be to integrate back into being a Seattlelite, into being a daughter, into having only Christian friends again.
I often (not just in Ireland) have this fear that I'm wasting time, or not being in the place that God wants me to be, or that I'm not able to do enough in my lifetime for Him. But as soon as I declare that, it also occurs to me that God is so much bigger than anything I could screw up (hah!), and that the beauty of Grace is that it can only be undeserved. I am so undeserving.
Some of my best times of thinking is while waiting. Today I waited for 35 minutes for the 66a bus to retrieve me. Life is all about practicing, yeah? So, I have been practicing at welcoming people into my life, and at saying good bye. I'm practicing at being a good employee, and at not allowing others' attitudes or tone of voice to change my performance. I'm practicing patience, especially with myself.

Blessed.

Yesterday, after my one shift at Costa, I bought an umbrella, which was really a big deal for me. It's blue and has birds flying and swooping across it. After living in Seattle my whole life and then moving to Ireland, I had yet to buy or own my own umbrella until yesterday. It was a big day.

Today I worshipped God with my church, and during tea and coffee time, I dreamt with some friends about making a bakery that serves home made pastries and baked goods from Every nation... "it would be like Heaven!" I exclaimed excitedly. "All Nations, feasting together!" I think I was so overcome, I jumped at least thrice. (what comes after thrice? My housemate, Connor asked me today... frice?)

The day before yesterday, I painted AT LAST, Again, and it felt so much like breathing for the first time in a month that I could barely believe it.

Today, I let myself cry for a long time on the couch with my journal and a soft, fluffy duvet and a lovely smelling candle and God's arms cradling me and my music seeping gently into my soul. It was beautiful, muchly needed, and more of a release than anything you should be concerned about.

The day before yesterday, my housemate Amy took me grocery shopping because it was overcast out. I love going anywhere with her, but I especially enjoy grocery shopping because she'll suggest things I could try, and my life is so much more Irish because of my dear housemates. This past month, I have purchased only the absolutely necessary of items; I lived off of bread and eggs (which I got for under 2 euros) for quite some time; or bagels and cream cheese... you might call this: survival mode. But it was so wonderful to pick out food the other day.. a couple weeks' worth for only 30 euros or so! And coming back from the store, she and I were so delighted to feast in our fresh food! 

Many times in my life, I have been overcome with love for the people in my life, and I almost wonder, is it possible to care so deeply for people and appreciate and want the best for them, for so many people? I know I've said it before, but I love my housemates more than I expected I could. God has been so good to know exactly what I needed. And it was so clearly a gift. And I love my dear traveling friends whom I met through USIT - people who have come alongside me, all of us so battered by being far from home, and all of us leaning on each other and standing together (though often it's that we're caught in the rain). How absolutely blessed am I! And then a third community I find myself lathered in love for and by are my church community; I have seen without a doubt the tangible body of Christ in the most beautiful ways through Maynooth Community Church.

While in Paris, Amy Garden my Aussie USIT friend asked me to pick one word to describe how I wanted this coming year to be characterized by. I chose the word Blessed, with the hope of being a blessing to others and to remember how blessed I am just to be in Ireland... This past month I have been undoubtedly covered in a thick layering of God's blessing and love from others (like the tastiest frosting atop a dainty cup cake... not the gross sort of frosting mind you, but the best sort you could even try to imagine!). 

I have also been overwhelmed, to the point of tears, to the point of utter confusion and even to the point of feeling the acidic taste of despair dripping down my throat, deep into the rest of my insides...

How is it possible to be so covered in blessings, and yet completely not deserve them?

I'm not sure what your opinion of me is... And chances are, I have at some point probably worried about it, or strived to have my reputation be that of an innocent, sweet, caring, adorably naive young woman - wanting with all her heart to follow after God. And that IS who I am, but my expectations, and probably your expectations for who I am have been shaken up, as rudely and abruptly and possibly as carelessly as some shake 'n bake chicken procedure.

I have the deepest desires to be wanted and loved and to belong to someone... And in a place and time where my vulnerability was heightened, and my need to be known, to be accepted, to be desired was most felt, I jumped in so, so eagerly, and put everything else aside in a basket, to be sorted through later.  I say these things, and realize that these themselves are not bad or to be despised.. The need to be loved, even to be held and cherished is the sincerest need of us all, I should think. And there's such a sweetness in sharing your heart with someone who you deem worthy of letting in close. 

Yet there's all this shame, all this self-induced hurt now, all crumpled up and gushing out in bursts of muddy water. There has been such a back and forth sweetness mixed in with the salt of getting caught, and being found missing (quite literally!). All resulting in this culminating moment: waving goodbye at a bus stop, on a lonely street in the queasy few hours before dawn... I stood there, so alone, with no one to smile down at me and hold my hand. I stood there, not sure if this was a movie or a dream, or someone else I was viewing from strange binoculars... And then the next culminating moment: sitting at a kitchen table I had been acquainted with for 3 months then, and hearing (as if announced by some safari guide) the fork ahead of me, where the road splits off: stay with Greater Europe Mission and undergo Restoration through counseling, leaving Ireland in 2 weeks' time and not to return in this year, or resign from GEM and stay in Ireland if I so desired.

I was given 24 hours to decide which path to take.

With all the decisions I've had to make, one of the hardest for sure, was to resign from Greater Europe Mission and serve God without the title, without the pressure, without any bubbling pride in me... and without the support of a lot of dear people, emotionally, spiritually and financially. In so many ways the decision didn't seem fair - couldn't there be a third option? Couldn't I still serve where I am and go through counseling here, and seek to be transformed here?... The answer was no. All my efforts all my fears of failing, and here is seems I had indeed done just that. so it seemed, so it seemed, so it seemed, as I cried out, God, "Lord! What have I done?" Yet also as I wondered, was it really that bad, that disgraceful?

And so you can see my pride - it's floating down the river, like Peter Pan's disconnected shadow. I understand perfectly well: There is no way I deserve Grace, No Way I deserve God's love. No way I can do this on my own. And I wondered too, if God would revoke his provision and rip any blessings from me. I felt like surely, his love would lessen because of my imperfection. But, as my pastor kindly asserted: does that mean if you hadn't done made these decisions you Would have deserved God's love, that you had done some good thing to be awarded his grace? Yet didn't you just read about all those thousands of beautiful flowers God's planted in my life? Don't you see them in your life too? Like little bright flashes of color lighting up in your heart every time you think of them - those blessings are so life-giving, and so undeserved. So Undeserved. 

So here I am laid out before your throne, Lord - Here's all of me, all my thoughts and wounds and with memories trying so hard to cling to me. Here're my longings, here're my wishes. Here's who I want to be, here's who I have actually been; here's my feelings of being a failure: I confess that I'm an embarrassed mess. And here's my talents, my desire to bring YOU glory, my need to be cherished, my intense love for people, my love for Ireland, my delight of you.
To you, O God, I lift my soul; in utter worship, I praise you, my soul bowed before the Only one who deserves the glory - O, Lord - how easily we can sell ourselves back into slavery, back into what you have already redeemed us from. But the Giver is worth praising not the gifts.

A week ago, it was.. I felt confirmed that I made the right decision to stay in Ireland. And I feel God using and transforming me here in this house, in this little village of Leixlip, in beautiful Ireland. And knowing that I'm truly choosing to be here, and truly wanting to stay because of the people because of God's calling on my life... I have possibly at last - maybe not certainly forever, but for now anyway - I have felt a renewed sense of belonging here, of feeling at home here.

This is my story. This is my song. Praising my savior, all the day long...

I have seen my faith in God actually at work, you know - when it really mattered, the Holy Spirit was there to twist cords of strength and joy and peace around me. And even in the wilderness of feeling outcasted and afraid for the future, God was there in a pillar of fire, guiding my steps. And scripture has come alive to me - words I've read hundreds of times, became the anchor, absolutely true, and absolutely practical to thriving and setting aside my anxiety in exchange for a peace that passes all understanding.

And in a funny way, I feel that I Have gone through Restoration here in Ireland, through God's redeeming and unconditional and perfect love, through His beautiful Church surrounding and listening and encouraging me, and through being able to still be used by God and be a blessing to those around me... it has happened not through running away or minimizing my faults, but in seeing how in our weakness God is abundantly strong!

I am overwhelmed with how deeply blessed, indeed, I am.

Chapter 3: Starting Over

I’m supposed to be a bridesmaid in my dear Grace and Jordan's, wedding Right Now. Instead, I’m laying on my bed at 10pm, wishing I was in a different time zone and typing this and trying not to cry as I pray for their wedding to be beautiful and their marriage a testament of true love, which I have all certainty it will and is already. =)

There comes a point (I decided some time ago on the bus) when our expectations of the future and reality meet up, and we’re faced with the choice to abandon the dreams we had for a time, a place, a relationship, or an event and ask God to reveal the beauty in the reality that we are currently held in, instead of living in a counterfeit world.

I can see how God has blessed me and is using my time here: He gave me 2 jobs, and the right place to live, and the support of Jon and Stacey, and a whole, wonderful group of friends to get to know with USIT.

For some reason though, most mornings I’ve been waking up with this terribly debilitating weight of despair: missing home, missing everything familiar, and people who know me, feeling like I’ve made so many mistakes at work, and had such a hard time adjusting to being foreign and far away.

I know though, I Know, that God’s grace is enough. And I know that I’m only here for a season, and I Know that there are so many good things in my reality here in Ireland. And I know that there is a very specific purpose for being here. And I know that it is in the very difficult times, the lonely and frustrating and broken times that we grow the most and are shaped and refined, which is beautiful.

This Tuesday will mark my 3-month anniversary in Ireland, which seems fitting because this begins a new chapter in my journey here in Ireland. On Wednesday my friends Jessica, Amy, Kristie, Lauren, Alyssa and I are going on a trip to Paris for 6 days. We’re all so excited! =) It’ll be my first time on The Continent, and I’m really looking forward to the art museums, baguettes, charming walks, and all the other Parisian icons, besides a chance to bond more with my new, dear friends. =)

I also enter this new chapter (once again) unemployed. And that is cause for some distress. It is only temporary, because I have my waitressing job at the Liffey Valley Hotel in March when the wedding season picks up again. But I had quite a discouraging review with my manager from Costa Coffee, which I am embarrassed to report left me with one shift a week there and a very bruised ego. Her negative and harsh words still sting, and make me want to guard and defend myself and deflect the blame and do everything I can so that I look okay in the end. The labels, “Failure” and “Incapable” dig deep into me though, and I have been trying to focus on seeing the truth in her statements in how to improve, and to realize maybe this isn’t what I’m best at, and to grow from it instead of being paralyzed by the pressure to be excellent at everything. I am looking for more work, but we’ll see what will happen.

As a result of this turn of events, I have been forced to seek God’s opinion of me, and to secure myself in His love and grace for imperfect people. My journal is scrawled over and over again with, “Lord, help me, Lord, I need you, Lord… be my everything.” If nothing else I know that the only way I am here in Ireland at all, (and am still in Ireland) is because of God’s provision and kindness and presence here with me.

The Lord Gives and the Lord takes away, and blessed be the Lord, Almighty!

working and working and working some more..

So, I'm here to report that I have a job… Two, actually. It seems the abundant prayers have been answered, abundantly.

I have half way reported about working at Costa Coffee as a barista, but my other job is at the Liffey Valley/Leixlip Hotel. Here's some of the context of how it came about - –

So, I had just started working at Costa Coffee. It had been the first week, or so, and I was at the Covell's house, hanging out with Stacey. I was telling her some of the hard things about working at Costa coffee - how uncomfortable it was for me, and how I had trouble reading and understanding my supervisor, and felt like they were mad at me a lot, just in their demeanor and lack of encouragement. 

Then as I was talking, I got a call from an unfamiliar number. I answered it, and it was Christian from the Leixlip House Hotel (which is the Hotel just down the street from where i live) He was asking about a job interview. I was terribly tongue tied and not sure what to say, since I had gotten a job already, I lamely explained that I had gotten work, and was sorry, awkwardness, etc.

Then hanging up I looked at Stacey in a confused but excited way, explaining what she couldn't hear on the other side of the phone. And then I was like, "why did I just say no?" Then thinking about it - "could I do two jobs? could it work? I should at least try!" we concluded. "now what do I do? do I call back? What do I say??" 

So she calmly and smilefully coached me, "call back and explain what happened and even make a joke of it if you can." so I did that, and it worked beautifully and he didn't seem to mind at all, and I had an interview that evening at 5:30. So, it seemed perfect. The interview seemed to go really well, and he said he'd let me know on Monday, a week from then.

Leixlip house is in connection with another hotel called the Liffey Valley House which only does weddings, and a few days later, Leslie the manager of LV House called me up to set up an interview. I went just before work at Costa, and was slightly more nervous to talk to her, because she seemed very busy and abrupt. I was tongue tied and un-suave, words gushing out of my mouth, and not really explaining my work experiences very confidently. 

At one point (and this is particularly embarrassing, brace yourself) Leslie even managed to say to me, "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but for future interviews you go to, you need to see yourself more; I had to practically pry certain information out of you, you know?" oh dear. She ended by basically saying, "you seem like a delightful girl, and you tick a few of my requirements, but I'm just not sure if you can go in and start without any training, and I need someone who can start as soon as this weekend. I have 3 more interviews today, and I'll make my decision by this evening, so if you don't get a call from me this evening, know that you didn't get it."

I did not get a call that evening.

In the midst of all of this, my dear friend Patti was here for 2 weeks visiting me and enjoying Irish life. I have to admit that hosting for the first time was an adjustment along with learning a new job and figuring out how to live here still. Patti was very gracious, but I still wished I was able to do everything as I would have done it in Seattle.

I’m remembering that I’m not that great at dealing with planning traveling details. Only having a pocket of 2-3 days in my eclectic work schedule, we knew we had to plan something quick.

Somehow the Internet ate up all our plans (It wouldn’t process our information to sign up for trains, buses, or hostels..!), and we ended up just going to sleep, feeling exhausted, with the plan of getting up early and just going into town and buying a ticket there at the station.

So, we went. My friend Amy Garden was going to come with us, and with the help of friendly Gillian our USIT miracle worker, Amy was able to figure out how to rent a car (even though most places only allow 23+ year olds rent, and most cars are manual not automatic) so, then off we went on a bus to the air port to pick up our shiny car (whom I named Gwendolyn).

Amy drove the first leg of the journey, because she was more used to driving on the left side of the road. I only feared my life a few times.

The destination: Killarney in County Kerry and the Ring of Kerry, tourist destination extraordinaire.

We were all Very excited to get out of the city. Our first stop was at Wicklow, which had a gorgeous view of the east coast of Ireland!

Along the way, I got a job interview at Next, a clothing store, which was quite exciting. But Then the next morning, I got a call from the Liffey Valley House offering me a job to come in that Friday (the day we were to return) to work at 5:30. I was stunned and a little nervous. But this was the answer to prayer I was hoping for, ya know. (I ended up not going to the Next interview, because it was at the same time my job started!)

So, that Thursday (Thanksgiving day) we gave thanks for the glorious Ireland sights. The Ring of Kerry was so spectacular. Seeing fields of green (this was a couple days before it started snowing like mad on Saturday.) and Sheep! And then we saw the coast, and I was so happy to see water. =) I got to drive on the left side of the road, which was also thrilling, and it was so nice to have a car and be able to stop whenever and wherever we wanted.

That night, we made some soup and ate biscuits and drank hot chocolate, and it was a marvelous end to a glorious day.

The next day, we drove back – a short but unforgettable visit. It took about 4.5 hours to drive back, and I was feeling a little nervous to be starting a new job that evening.

White button up shirt. Black knee length skirt, “sun-kissed” nylons, and black flat shoes. Hair pulled back in a ponytail. I was ready.

Working at the hotel that evening, I had so much fun! That night I shadowed another girl, and everyone was friendly and gracious about showing me where things were and what to do. They were So Nice! I could hardly believe it. And the hotel itself was gorgeous, all decked out for the wedding banquet. And it was fun to see all the families and people so cheerful and well dressed and happy to celebrate.

PLUS, they gave us a break while the group was toasting, and we got to eat dinner, and eating is always good, especially getting to know new people.

Someone gave me a ride home that evening, and I was probably glowing with thankfulness at their kindness and how well I liked it.

The next morning, I had to get up for the breakfast shift, having to be there at 7am, which was pretty brutal considering I had worked the night before until 11 or so. I was also particularly stressed because I had to work from 7am-12pm at the hotel and then work 1-5pm at Costa coffee, which was just hard, going from one to the other with only the stressful bus as a break.

That was the morning it had begun to snow as well. And working at Costa Coffee was increasingly more stressful, because they were beginning to train me on the coffee machines, and mistakes are more crucial and more frequent while making coffee. There is so much to remember!

I have had a really hard time working at Costa (which is why in comparison, the hotel job has been so dreamy). But at Costa, my supervisors are all very hard to understand (they mostly speak with heavy Polish accents) and are very stern in their manner. I am usually very tense when I work there, because I am so afraid of making mistakes and having them correct me or be discouraging. I feel very bothersome having to ask all the time, “could you repeat that?,” or “what did you say?” but if I didn’t, I’m not sure what they’re saying when they train me or what task they want me to be doing. I have put a lot of my stress of being in a new place into my feelings for this job, but I think it has been difficult besides all of that. 

There's so much more I have to say on the subject, but I should leave it at that for now.

The Bus Reports

The Dublin buses and I have such a love hate relationship.

Since buses are a primary event in my life, I have many bus incidents to report. Multiple times, I've seen the chunky blue and yellow mammoths plowing past, and I have attempted to run to catch it, often with my arms outstretched and reaching while I skid down the street (which I'm sure looks absolutely hilarious if I was just an observer). Many times, I miss it by seconds, because the bus just doesn't stop unless someone puts their hand out to signal it. But other times, there's a line of people, and I just make it (I try not to forget these times as well). Today was brilliant, I just arrived at the stop in Dublin, and maybe one minute later, the bus 66b rolled by; it was like magic! Because you know, it gets very cold waiting for buses... and if you've just missed one, you can expect to wait 20 or so minutes till the next one comes to collect you. (that's the word they use here: collect you. =)

So now, there have been a couple Saturdays where I work both jobs, which adds up to about 10 hours total, an exhausting amount for one day. Coming home from working at Costa, the bus stop I take is at the top of a large incline, but if you go up the even steeper embankment, you can get there faster! So I'm trying not to slide down the snowy slope, and I look up, and there's the bus gliding past so rudely. I try calling out, try stumbling up faster, try waving my hand, reaching desperately. My voice is faint though, and it's too late. It had no reason to stop, so it kept on going. Afterward the word, "Wait! Wait!" kept replaying in my head. If I had just arrived seconds earlier... if I had just yelled louder...

I feel like in some metaphorical way that posture of my arms outstretched in desperation is how I've been living my life lately. "Wait! Don't leave me behind in the cold! Wait, please! I am in such need of a lift of warmth!"

There is also something about crying on a half-empty bus that is miserable and relieving and sort of necessary at times. It's happened on a handful of occasions, either because I am overwhelmed with how I've uprooted my entire life to a new place and foreign place, or because my job makes me tense and feel humiliated, or because of the various hurts in my life that bubble back up to the surface when I'm already stressed and require a few tablespoons of tears.

On Sunday, my housemate and I dropped Patti off at the airport at a terribly early hour (like 8am=) and coming back from it, I kind of just sloshed around my room in a sleepy, mournful manner. Then I was like, Man! I need to look up when I should catch the bus! I looked it up. shoot, one was leaving Right Then! So I rushed out the door. On Sundays there are fewer buses operating, maybe only one per hour, so even if you get to where you need to be like a half hour early, it's the only option besides being 15 minutes late. So I dashed through my neighborhood, though I must say it is terribly frightening to dash anywhere with the entire street and sidewalk being converted into a slippery ice rink. so I more slippered my way along, huffing and sluffling in the cold.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I live on a hill; it's called Captain's Hill (not sure who the captain is, but maybe he lived around here somewhere=). Now, it's a mere incline compared with the Mountain I had to climb every day last year. However for Ireland, it may as well be a mountain the way it's described, especially in this weather. I am embarrassed to describe this, but I must admit that every time I have gone down this hill into the village this week, I sort of shuffle along like a child who has just discovered static electricity on carpet. Granted, I'm also concentrating on not falling, so my face is usually scrunched a little in concentration as well.
It wasn't really possible for me to catch the bus, because it was due to arrive at my stop about 15-20 minutes after the scheduled time said it would leave the first stop from Maynooth (it's a very confusing way of doing things, you must understand - and also involves an amount of math power)... but I was trying anyway, scooting along as I was.
Rounding the corner after the hill, I see the terrible sight I knew would be there: no one was waiting at the bus stop. This is my true measure of whether or not I've missed the bus or not. A healthy row of 4-7 people and grand, I came just in time. A deserted sidewalk and, we've surely left without you.
So, seeing no one there signaled for the wave of panic to sweep my heart off my feet.
What was i to do? I was going to be late, and then they'd fire me, and I'll have failed, and, and, and, and. oh no.
So that's when I tried calling every person I knew who had a car. I think one of the worst feelings is relying on people you don't know all that well and feeling like you have nothing much to give in return. I really don't want to burden people.. so this is when I missed the freedom to drive my little Cora and to not have to depend on others. This is when I felt so alone without my network of people I could depend on, it hurt. This is when I felt so lost and scared and like a nuisance to others.
And after no one I called picked up,
And after I told God all of these things, I remembered:
Wait! what time is it? when do I work? 2, not till 2? and what time is it? 12:20? And - Oh. Oh, I'm okay. There's a bus that leaves Maynooth at 12:40. I have until 12:55 (at least) to be there. I - am going to be okay. Are you kidding me, Sara? Why did you freak out like that? geez.

It all was okay though. It was all okay.

Probably my favorite bus story though happened nearly a month ago now. I was working at the catering job (the first and only shift, so far) at the Irish Modern Art Museum. And I was able to leave at 11pm instead of 1am, which was actually rather marvelous because then I didn't have to pay the 5 euros for a night bus. So, but since I had been on my feet for too many hours (and since I foolishly chose to wear high heeled boots) I kind of stumbled out of the museum, my feet barely giving way underneath me. Excellent. so the next task is to find the nearest bus stop. After asking someone who had no clue (in the darkness of night time) I sort of limp in the direction mus travels. After going a block or so, I am horrified to see a 66 bus coming towards me. The horrifying part is, I am no where near a bus stop, and it will pass me without a thought. But feeling defeated already, I stretch out my arm (and I wish I could show this to you) but my face contorts into an agonized, "NO!!!!" position, and my arm with fingers also extended, as if by some magical power I can make the bus pull in next to me and open its friendly doors and whisk me home... but, so the bus driver sees me, and he ends up stopping at the light, nearly in front of me, except for a lane of traffic separating me. We make eye contact, and I just stand there, not sure what to do - would he let me on? cars are coming in the lane that separated us. Then, like a, "do you want on?" he motions with his head. Then I mouth, "CAN I? REALLY?" He opens the door, and I stumble across the road, my feet wobbly below me still.
Oh my gosh, I must look totally smashed! I get on safely enough, thank him profusely, and he drives off. I begin fumbling around to look for money. my purse isn't obeying, and my fingers feel shaky. (I'd just been pouring gallons of wine and champagne to dressed up important people). I can't seem to get my money out, and my feet decide to give way. Oh my gosh, Sara - you are Sitting on the floor of the bus, right next to the bus driver. Oh my word! Somehow though, that was the only was to find the right change. Totally embarrassed by the entire event, I waddle up the stairs, clutching the railing as the bus chugs on. My feet keep slipping on the stairs though - those silly high heeled boots. Did that just happen? I slump into a seat, and seconds later the bus pulls into a stop (where I should have been waiting). I could hardly believe that just worked, and even more so how totally drunk I must have appeared!
Yes, the bus and I definitely have a love hate relationship.

God Provides.

SARA LEE NOW HAS A PART TIME JOB!

yay! =) story to follow... soon.

Grrr.

SARA LEE REALLY NEEDS A PART-TIME JOB!
(and for the exchange rate to go down)
(and to eat more regularly)
(and to trust)

In the Whirlwind

There's something of a windstorm outside. Every few minutes it pushes past, so that it would seem my house's stomach was rumbling rather rudely.
My fingers are cold, but more than that, I'm quite amazed that my Internet is at Full Throttle right now.
Is it shameful that this simple yet frequently unreliable amenity drives me to exhaustion with frustration? It's no one's fault, except maybe my computer's.
Today my jobless status made me want to cry, then made me want to hyperventilate, (which I can spell correctly now) then made me laugh, then made me weep uncontrollably.
Maybe it's not just that. Maybe it's that I'm stuck in a muck of anxiety and I-miss-yous and wondering why I decided to go so far from home. Why did I decide to leave all the people and places I love?
Because there is more to the world than everything I know in Seattle.
Because Ireland is beautiful and green and an adventure.
Because I needed to grow up at some point.
Because I wanted this so much.
Because God said so.

Deep breath. okay.
So, the funny thing is that I love it here and I hate it here. I hate that I hate it here, but I can't seem to stop wrestling with my fears and stop being so stressed about getting it all down right. Ok, hate's a bit too strong of a word, (so don't quote me on that).. I guess I just feel lost. I think, "a job will solve all my problems," but at the same time, I want the Right job, which is specifically clean, non-embarrassing, will somehow be a step-up in my long-term career goals, plays to my strengths, deals with people, pays well and is quite possibly impossible to get. (thus the feeling of utter despair) And then the realization that I have to throw out my pride and settle for whatever, and trust that God will make beauty out of anything, because I know he can.
I know that it's in the struggle that we grow the most. And I know, at least I've heard, that what I'm feeling is all relatively normal.. but maybe people just have a better way of hiding it than I do (which is really quite possible since I have trouble enough in hide and go seek, despite my smallness)...

I was reading Henri Nouwen this evening, mostly because he knows so much about loneliness and fear and not belonging that I almost always feel like he knows exactly what I'm going through. I'll share with you:

"You are constantly facing choices. The question is whether you choose for God or for your own doubting-self. You know what the right choice is, but your emotions, passions, and feelings keep suggesting you choose the self-rejecting way.
The root choice is to trust at all times that God is with you and will give you what you most need. Your self-rejecting emotions might say, "It isn't going to work. I'm still suffering the same anguish I did six months ago..." And so on. It is hard not to listen to these voices. Still, you know that these are not God's voice. God says to you, "I love you, I am with you, I want to see you come closer to me and experience the joy and peace of my presence. I want to give you a new heart and a new spirit. I want you to speak with my mouth, see with my eyes, hear with my ears, touch with my hands. All that is mine is yours. Just trust me and let me be your God."
This is the voice to listen to. And that listening requires a real choice, not just once in a while, but every moment of each day and night. It is you who decides what you think, say, and do. You can think yourself into a depression, you can talk yourself into low self-esteem, you can act in a self-rejecting way. But you always have a choice to think, speak, and act in the name of God and so move toward the Light, the Truth, and the Life."      - Nouwen

I find that as in Job's case, it is in the whirlwind that God speaks most clearly.

Shock Waves (nourishment is important)

Stacey’s having me read a number of books, which is actually rather helpful. =) One highlights the symptoms of culture shock.
The funny thing is, I remember taking notes from my Living in Another Culture class that I took 2 years ago, and it must have been the same content exactly. But then it was so sterile- just simply words that my dear professor was explaining.
Now to be in it. I see the difference in learning something theoretically verses going through the very steps yourself. goodness. I was reading it Tuesday night, and was like - this is why I am feeling this way! This means I'm not the only one! This means I'm Normal! Anyway, but I wanted to share it, so maybe others would understand what it's been like a little to be in a new culture. Whether or not we even realize it, when we grow up in a place, we learn all these clues and rules about how to interact with people, how to operate, but it's all done silently, so a lot of times, you can't even fully articulate it... but when you go to a new culture, all the rules are different:
"These signs and clues include the thousand and one ways in which we orient ourselves to the situations of daily life: when to shake hands and what to say when we meet people, when and how to give tips, how to make purchases, when to accept and when to refuse invitations, when to take statements seriously and when not...
...being continually put into a position in which you are expected to function with maximum skill and speed but where the rules have not been adequately explained..." (... is REALLY hard!)
The book went on to describe the overall symptoms of culture shock:
anxiety
homesickness
boredom
depression
fatigue
confusion
self-doubt
feelings of inadequacy
unexplained fits of weeping
paranoia
physical ailments and psychosomatic illnesses. 
(in addition, signs of withdrawal symptoms or aggressive symptoms will also occur.)
I kind of hope that things will start evening out now, and I'll be starting to adjust. But I'm not sure how long it will take. I guess I'm also concerned about losing touch with friends back home, and the fear of being replaced is sometimes overwhelming.
Today when I had to find the bus stop and crossing the streets was fairly terrifying, I kept saying to myself, This is an Adventure. This is an Adventure. And somehow, that actually helped. I'm only going to be here for a year, so I don't want to be stuck too long in the down slope of culture shock. I have kind of already decided that I'm going to look back on this year and call it one of the best experiences of my life, because it's been so good to see another part of the world, to meet new people and take risks, and be stretched, and grow like a tall and healthy sunflower. =)
Lately, the tipping point(s) or most frustrating things for me have been that my Internet just stops working at about 10pm every evening (which would be prime time for talking with people back home...) The other thing is getting around without a car. and the third has been eating right (I had a bad experience with making an omelet and it not tasting like it should), and the fourth has been not hibernating in my room (which is so easy to do!) but spending time with people. The fifth is figuring out what people actually mean, reading cues and such and not feeling too out of place.
I think i'll go try to make some food now. =) Nourishment is important.

The day I almost died.

A year is going to go by so fast, so they say.
Waiting for the bus with no hood in the pouring rain... makes that year go by much, much slower though.
Tuesday marked my 3 week "anniversary" (basically I'm in a juvenile relationship with this green country, where we're awkward and hopeful and desperately counting every second together, pretending it's been forever or so)
Gosh I have so much to learn.
I went to my first interview in another country today. The plan was that I'd be a half hour early or so and have loads of time in getting there. I was perhaps most nervous about that, because on the phone, the manager seemed amazed that I was even going to try to travel by bus, "how are you going to make that work?" she kept asking, "I don't know if it will even be worth it to come in for an interview..." After stammering awkwardly on the phone, I replied, "well, I'll see how long it takes and give it a try.."

So, the plan was, take the 1:10 bus to get there by 2. However, it didn't come to my stop until 1:33. I sat nervously for all 15 minutes of the bus ride, trying real hard to remember when to get off. Once I did, Stacey gave me instructions: Okay, walk under the bridge, then go straight up the hill for a while 'till you see the Costa. 

Okay. 

So I went, but then all of a sudden, the sidewalk just ended! I tried - all right, I'll just walk on the grass... but then there was a busy road, and still no sidewalk on the other side, only a hill that would be harder to walk on. I had to cross to the other side of the street, 4 lanes of fairly heavy traffic.

I am going to die. 

And if I was dead, that would mean I'd be late for my interview. Jon's interview advice echoed in ominously: when someone comes late for an interview at my shop, we just disregard them entirely. 

But every time I stepped out, cars kept coming. 

I am going to die. 

Tears. This is impossible, why is everything I try to do so impossible? I went back to where the sidewalk ended, and just decided to go. Just went for it. 

Somehow, I managed to not die, and running down the street, I made it to my interview. It took 15-minutes to run/walk there. And I arrived at 2:01. The manager, Anna asked if I wanted some coffee, and she gave me 5 minutes to wait. I didn’t die, and the interview seemed to go fairly well. So, we’ll see. I’d love to work there, I really would. She said she’d call me on Monday to tell me what she decided. It would only be for Christmas season, unless someone quit or moved, so we’ll see.

I’ve had a series of good days this week, which off-set the low ones (this seems to be the trend for me)

I’ve been enjoying getting to know my roommates (I’m in the sitting room with them now, watching Irish Rugby, which is happy) and connecting with other BUNAC people (like I’ve had meals with a couple of sweet girls this week, which has been lovely, since we’re all in similar situations.)

 I find that if I actually initiate with people in saying “Hi,” or “how are you,” or “gosh, it’s been rainy today!” People actually respond to me and chat awhile. I am learning a powerful thing: I am not totally alone, and most people have opinions or thoughts to share. I am enjoying being a listener.

I think the first couple of weeks, I put immense pressure on myself: I should talk to every person I come in contact with, I shouldn’t be so sad, I should be out meeting people all the time, or else I am doing a poor job of being here, I should, I should I should...

Phil and Cheryl and Stacey and Jon have helped a lot. Be patient with yourself. We are under grace, after all. Be in prayer, instead of trying to carry it all on your own shoulders (since that’s impossible to bear alone).

I really do love it here. The people are pretty friendly, especially when you initiate. Like the other day on the bus, I started chatting with the lady next to me, and she told me all about places to go in Dublin and about her family. Before leaving, she gave me her number and was like, call me and I'll show you around. 

The trees have begun to change colors. There’s a certain smell in the air, whenever I go walking in the evening – it’s of peat burning, a really thick scent that fills your lungs quickly. I know I’m going to miss it when I have to leave in a year.

A year is going to go by so fast. Almost 4 weeks in now.

Whatever's left.

I'm in this place where I feel like I've lost everything. (a rather disconcerting feeling, if you wanted to know) and since I am one greatly driven by feelings...

Here I am, with what seems to be nothing left.

Of course if I made stock of it all, and laid out the contents of my heart on this very kitchen table that my computer is resting on, I'm sure I would find many blessings to be thankful for, and much to keep my hands filled with.

But until I get to that point, I need to address this emotional bankruptcy I find myself in. Words can't really fully describe a lot of it, except that I know I don't belong here, and I'm trying so hard to succeed, which right now means not breaking, but that's too late. You see I keep literally getting lost and wandering around, which reminds me of how displaced I really am. Will it always be this way? Why did I choose to come here? Why do we ever choose these "life changing experiences," knowing even before we begin that the comfortable and happy life we've known won't quite be the same again. But maybe that's it - comfortable and happy are boring, and discontentment follows us no matter which side you're on (and goodness knows I thought for sure it would be greener in Ireland)...

Is it possible to make really close friends with people in a year? Enough to be a witness to them? Enough to feel like this year was a success? (I'm still trying to figure out what I mean by success) And meanwhile, I'm realizing that I've left my good friends back home, and it won't be the same when I return. People keep saying to be patient with myself and to trust and to be thankful, but it's harder than just those words neatly strung together.
I'm frustrated that things keep going up and down - one day I'm pleased as a button to be here, and the next I'm unraveling and feeling quite vulnerable about being so exposed.

In these down times, I'm mostly afraid that somehow I heard wrong and God didn't want me here, or it turns out I'm not strong enough to be used by Him.

I wrote this real big in my journal a few days ago:

‎"My grace is Sufficient for you, for my Power is made perfect in weakness."

I think I'll go bring God an offering of worship, squeeze out whatever's left to him.

8 legged Squirrels

I've been on something of a roller coaster ever since I decided this is what I needed to do... which is funny, because most times when I think of doing God's will, I think it must come naturally and without any snags or doubts or tears.
I had more than a grand day on Saturday. It was the first day the Covells were gone, and I was enjoying the luxury of being free to decide what I wanted to do; I could clean or read or make lunch or go for a walk; it felt good (even though I miss having people here at the same time).
In the afternoon I meandered over to my new house to drop off my deposit. Audrey and her brother Luke were there, and she invited me to tea. Stacey had advised me before that it is culturally polite to refuse at first.. but it made me a little nervous to do it, since I really wanted the tea! But I said no thanks, and sure enough, she offered again. I was really excited it worked! : ) I really enjoyed hanging out with them that day; they were gracious about me asking, "what does that mean?" and explaining things to me. They asked me a bunch of questions too like where I'm from and such. I was amused even just saying, "Mukilteo" to them. Luke ended up looking it up on Google maps/street view and was virtually walking around my home town, which was cool that they were interested.
Audrey had collected a bunch of "conkers" or chestnuts for a traditional Halloween game they play. There were a bunch on her bed and she and Luke were picking through them, looking quite like squirrels.
me: (gasping excitedly) Do you have squirrels here?
Luke: Oh sure we do, but they have 8 legs here.
=)
Earlier, I was hoping and praying that I could be myself around my new roommates and here in Ireland in general. I think I still hope for that, but I was realizing that I would rather be more Christ like then just myself, because the character of Christ brings out the best in us, I believe.
The thing is, I really don't want to be making projects out of people, or have an agenda. I just want to get to know people and still live out my faith and be praying.

Yesterday Audrey called me up and asked if i wanted to go to the zoo with them, her and Luke and Amy and Connor (two of the other roommates, there're two others I still haven't met) And I gladly accepted the offer - how sweet of them to include me! Anyway, I just got back from the Dublin Zoo, and I will only say two things, because I ravenously hungry right now - it's 8pm and I have yet to cook up some dinner!
Item #1: There was an island in a grand lake that had monkeys on it, but it was crazy - there was nothing to separate you from the monkeys but a river and a low fence.
Item #2: Also, I love dogs, children, and am looking forward to getting to know my roommates better, but I'm still at the awkward getting to know you phase with them; sometimes I get quiet in groups of people larger than 3. hm..

Tomorrow I'm going early into Dublin to wait in a huge line in order to get my Garda immigration card (since i'm an alien) It's supposed to rain tomorrow. And the stomach is rumbling. God is good.

Disneyland for Adults

Maybe I've told you this before, but I really like grocery shopping.
There's something about buying large quantities of food that'll last you days and days of happy lunches and dinners and snacks and breakfasts and only cost the same as going out to eat maybe 3 times, depending. I also really enjoying browsing all the different options, and all the colors and visual stimulus, and creative advertising and getting to swivel around with carts and plan out food you'll get to eat -- oh man. haha! It's super fun with other people too, because thinking about food brings up so many good stories and memories, and it can be a sort of fun scavenger hunt of sorts!...
So, today I went grocery shopping in Ireland since, you know, that's where I live now.
Stacey took me to Tesco's, the same huge store in which I got lost in their parking lot the other day. yeah.
But this was good, because I was actually grocery shopping not job hunting. The carts were all hooked up, and you had to put a 20 cent coin to unlatch one from the others. Stacey said this was to discourage people from stealing them, because you wouldn't get your coin back until you re-latched it. Thinking about it now, and recalling the two grocery carts that sat in our car port last year for so long ... this seems like a great scheme, but also it's not That high of collateral, really. But then again I was pretty excited to get my 20 cents at the end of the day. It sort of felt like a game too - placing your coin into the slot and then snapping it in the lock so that you could play the wonderful grocery shopping game!
I've been relating a lot of new things to playing games or amusement rides. It makes me laugh to think of how many things I've said, "Wow, it's just like Disneyland!" because after all Disneyland is the supreme example of a happy time. (actually...=) I kind of feel like adults need their own versions of Disneyland in this world... Double Decker buses (as long as the windows in the upper level aren't totally fogged in the morning and you can actually see out and don't get Terribly car sick, er bus sick...) um.. are really marvelous creatures. They are a prime example of Disneyland-esque rides that I've experienced lately.

Besides grocery shopping, other notable new developments in my life are that I decided on a place to live! It's the house that, as soon as I read the description on the ad at www.daft.com, I really wanted to live there. Here's what the ad said::

The property is a large Detached property it is very private, it has a lovely garden with a terrace, 3 mins walk to the village, shops, pubs, bus, Confey train is 8 mins walk.... Sharing with people from Denmark, Cork and Waterford aged between 25 and 30. We are a friendly bunch who all get along well and we are looking for someone who is a professional, friendly and tidy between 20 and 35 to join the house. The house is busy but we all get along well... Facilities include Sky TV including sky sports, wireless broadband and phone from Eircom, the sitting room has a flat screen 32ins TV. The single room is not a box room and has a wardrobe and locker there is room for a desk... PLEASE NOTE SINGLE AVAILABLE 01/11, at 290/month with utility bills included.

It sounded so perfect - the whole community- family feel. Lately, I've been a little on the lonely side and wondering how I'll ever make friends. So, I'm really hoping and praying that this will be a good fit and I'll mesh well with them. When I went to visit, it felt right, and Audrey, the girl who lives there and who showed it to me said that they even sometimes all come together in the kitchen and play games and things. AH! How perfect. I'm just hoping I'll be able to really be myself with all of them and not feel too intimidated. Pray I can be a good witness of God's love and grace while I live there and to not be too shy or timid or feel small.

The other thing I'm hoping about is getting a job with a local day care. I put in my CV to one of the three locations today, and the lady named Lindsey was super kind and positive. She said since there were three locations there was most likely a chance of an opening and that they would call to set up an interview next week. WOW! ... Though, I've been feeling like people don't actually call when they say they will... but I actually feel qualified for this job, which is neat. A part of me doesn't want to Always Only be working with kids, but as I was passing out my CV to so many shops and restaurants and cafes and places, I got to thinking, as I lingered in a toy shop and saw some little kids walking past that I really enjoy being around kids more than trying to sell unnecessary items to adults. Besides, I like playing and making up stories and make believe worlds with kids. Also when I went today, the kids were all dressed up in their costumes for Halloween, and that totally won me over. Totally and completely. =) Plus I spotted some Legos in the window.

On another note, since the Covell's are going on vacation tomorrow morning, we made a schedule of things I was to accomplish while they were gone, which I'm certain will be very good for me, actually. If all things go as planned, I'm looking forward to what's ahead, indeed.

I got to talk with Patti the other day, maybe it was yesterday, in any case it was really encouraging because we were both (at least I was) telling each other what we ourselves needed to hear. haha. Anyway Romans 8 and 2 Co 12 were super encouraging. And even though I was kind of feeling discouraged and displaced and pressured to be a certain way, today was a good day, and I am hopeful for what else is to come. I'll leave you with Paul's words from Romans 8, because this is seriously powerful:

12Therefore, brothers, we have an obligation—but it is not to the sinful nature, to live according to it. 13For if you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, 14because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. 15For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." 16The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. 17Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. 18 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. 19The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed....
26In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. 27And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will.

tea is so wonderfully calming

Today was cold.
This may or may not make sense to you, but lately I've been feeling like my thoughts are floating about a foot above my head in a red balloon that sways back and forth ever so slowly and only a little bit eerily.
This of course makes thinking clearly quite unclear.
I find it fantastic whenever I get the nerve to strike up a conversation with a stranger. I've noticed that there's a small window of opportunity that such an exchange can socially acceptably occur. Walking up to the bus, you take stock of the people also standing, waiting there; you briefly make eye contact and maybe nod your head as if to say, "yup we are waiting for the bus at the same time." That is when the flash moment occurs, when it is imperative to say Something, like, "nice weather we're having, huh?" or "Did the 66 bus come by, do you know?" or "are you headed into town?"

okay, I'm rather distracted, because Stacey and I are watching Clue. =)
so, the end for now.

the tipping point.

Hot chocolate comes in a clear pint sized mug and tastes more like a certain brand of chocolate milk that's been warmed up...
And for some reason or other, Irish people CANNOT (or do not, at any rate) pronounce their TH sounds. It's "T'anks a Million," and if they said it, I'm sure, "Tat's whut she said"... and "tirty-tree."
My favorite is how lyrical the accent is - like they're singin' to you all the time. I can hear it in my head when I think, and have noticed myself begin to talk with a slight brogue... except people can still tell that I'm not from around here. They still know. What's worse is often times they can't understand me.
I've been feeling like I'm in some strange play lately... rehearsing what to say before I talk to shop owners so that I say the right thing. It's made me a little on edge. Stacey's been great about sharing tid bits and things she's learned the past 7 years and what not... but I have this complex that I should do things like this or that, and that there's only one right way. I've been really self critical of myself, and haven't felt like I even know how to connect with peers and make friends with strangers - it's so different than at SPU where I could just go up to someone I'd see a few times and say, "Let's be friends," and we go skipping off to Gwinn hand in hand.
Today, it was super hard to leave the house, even though that was what I had planned to do and really what I needed to do. But I was so resistant to leave this cozy home. But feeling torn and slightly guilt ridden and overwhelmed, when Stacey got home from picking up Ethan, her youngest, she asked how I was doing and I more or less explained it all, which was hard in some ways, because I've been wanting to have things seem put together and not have to trouble anyone, you know. Plus, I honestly just met Stacey, Jon and all of them just a week ago Today! (which I just realized now) so as much as she asks how I am and as much as I know they all are safe and wanting me to thrive, it's still hard to express everything i'm thinking and feeling and be totally myself when I'm not sure I have been able to process everything completely or know them all that well yet. But all that to say, it was good to share my overwhelmed feelings with her, and she was encouraging and shared how hard it has been for her too, and how important it is to have grace for ourselves and be patient. That was good.
She offered to drive me to the bus stop, which was just the motivation I needed - a time frame that required me to leave my cozy penguin blanket on the couch, and head off to Maynooth (pronounced with a silent y) to inquire after jobs.
I got off where Stacey suggested, at the huge Tesco, which is basically a massive Fred Meyers complete with grocery store and everything else you could imagine. The lady said they weren't hiring, but she'd take my CV (or resume) anyway. I didn't have a staple to attach the cover letter and CV though, and she commented on it. so I was like - fail, oh fail.
exiting, I tried to figure out how to get to the main part of town. I was sure there was a way out to the east, trying to remember how we drove past it last time we were in town and Stacey drove. I walked to the end of the sidewalk where there Should Have Been an exit, but there wasn't one, just a gate where employees toss the trash and feeling more than awkward I wandered like a lost child around the parking lot, trying desperately to hold back tears. every where I thought was the way to go turned out to be not an exit, all barred off with a gate. I was literally closed in, and felt utterly trapped in so many ways. This was the breaking point. I've been wondering in what shape it would come. Okay, getting lost in a parking lot. It was actually miserable. I tried really hard not to just burst in tears right there, because it seemed like the silliest thing to say, "um how do I get out of here? ... um, where is the main village?" goodness I felt like a bumbling child.
Eventually, what probably took a shorter time than it felt then, I figured it out and saw a tall cathedral type building in the distance, to the west... but that feeling of being trapped and displaced is really strong, like the taste of garlic (which I had some garlic toast for lunch today and can still taste it in my mouth, so it's quite an appropriate simile, really) so I was quite tender most of the time I was in Maynooth. Most of the places I asked about weren't too enthusiastic about hiring anyone, so that was a little discouraging. However, I went to a cafe and got a hot chocolate and journaled out my heart to God and realized a bunch of things... mostly how lonely I've been, and how ironic it is that I thought I'd come to Ireland to help other people who felt lonely... wow was it humbling to realize I was the one in need. It's times like these, where there's so many new things coming at me and I'm way out of my comfort zone, that I'm having to depend on God so much, which is good and hard.
At the cafe one of the workers talked to me though, which I am pretty sure I noticeably lit up about. It made me so glad.
The bus system is grand, since they're fun double decker busses and you can see really beautiful things all around while driving. I love it. The only problem is that at the individual bus stops away from the city, there is no list of when the bus will come, so I ended up waiting for a half hour twice today. I keep remembering how blessed I am to be here though. Riding the bus back and looking out at the gorgeous green fields and lovely trees and expressive sky, I was so thankful to be there. Then walking home, I kind of realized that even if, and even though this year is going to be so hard, I will miss it once I'm gone, that was just a good reminder for me to enjoy this time I have and to keep calling on God to surround me in a cloud.