Dublin—Day 1

If you can call it a day, that is. We have been traveling since about 5 o’clock yesterday morning. First we flew from Orlando International Airport to JFK, where we experienced a lovely ten-hour layover. Then we flew through the night into Dublin International Airport. Leasel , a woman who works with Dublin Christian Mission, picked us up and whisked us to the Four Courts Hostel. After showering and recouping, we had lunch at The Brazen Head, then Kelly and I headed back to the hostel to nap while the others did some sight-seeing. After telling Kelly and me what an awful idea it was to take a nap for fear of our sleeping patterns not adjusting to the time change, the rest of the crew soon returned and were very quickly sound asleep themselves. I think it was necessary. We haven’t slept much the past two nights, and I know I would not have made it until this evening without sleeping. Even after a nap I’m still thoroughly exhausted, and can’t wait to sleep again after dinner.

Dublin is not what I imagined it would be. I’m not sure how to describe it. According to Leasel, about 40% of the population here is under the age of 24. There are pubs absolutely everywhere. All the buildings are old and quaint, but somehow modern and cool. More on that later.

Firstly, I believe God has given me a traveler’s spirit. I was at first discouraged when I wasn’t super emotional about leaving Jacksonville for ten days. Sad, maybe, but not upset and crying. But just because I don’t express being sad about leaving Jacksonville doesn’t mean I don’t love the people there. God’s really put a desire in my heart to see this beautiful thing He’s created that we like to call “the world,” and I am going to see it! This means saying goodbye to my family and friends over and over again. I will see them again! But I was more eager than upset about leaving Jacksonville. 

That said, my emotions have been toyed with since then. My closest friends and companions know all too well the hell I’ve endured since the beginning of 2011. What started out as a bright year with much to look forward to quickly turned to despair, heartache, agony, and hopelessness. To debrief, I started the year in a relationship with someone I truly cared for, and before that relationship had even had the chance to blossom and grow, it was quickly and painfully ended. This toyed with my emotions far beyond the boundaries of that singular relationship. I was thrown in a whirlwind of complex emotions I had yet to explore on my own, and it made me ask God some hard questions: Why am I not good enough? What do I have to do to live out these dreams that seem to come so easily to everyone else? What am I being punished for? Why can’t I just find someone who’s actually going to love me fully and wholeheartedly the way that I know I can love them? I have felt a strong sense that my companion, the one God put on this earth for me, is simply wandering the universe somewhere, unable to find me. It breaks my heart, and fills me with longing for that kind of companionship. It becomes especially difficult when all of my friends seem to have no trouble finding their respective companions, and I have sat on the sidelines time and time again, and praised their relationships over and over, I’m just not sure how much endurance I have left. 

Then, it hit me, I had signed up for a missions trip with this person and his campus church group. I have always been drawn to Ireland, and had never had the opportunity to pursue it, so this seemed like a grand opportunity. But now it seemed a good chance to have me heart beaten up all over again. Regardless, money had already been paid, so I had to suck it up and continue on as planned, with my heart on guarded with lock and key. 

I was also unemployed at the beginning of the year. This was at first by choice—I was not ready to go back to the restaurant industry, and I thought I could survive on a supplement from my grandparents, but I was wrong. Financially, I was mostly miserable. Then when I started looking for a job, it seemed impossible to find one. This was finally resolved, and I now work at the Metro Diner, and I hope to grow and succeed there, but I am treading cautiously, nervously, and uncertainly. 

This was also my most difficult semester of college yet. I barely made it through this season of confusion, lack of understanding, and frustration. I am disappointed that it did not go as well as it could have, but at least—at the very least—I passed.

Then, I emailed one of my Summer A professors to let her know I would be missing the first week of class to go on a missions trip to Ireland. Long story short, my grade will be docked to a “C” with no hope of getting any higher. I am under an intense amount of stress to do well in this class—I am trying to graduate in August, and I need to pass this class to do so. Even now, I don’t want to think about the pressure of the situation for fear of working myself up about it all over again.

All of this was speckled with expensive car troubles, a fight that resulted in the loss of one of my longest friends, sleep deprivation, illness, the tension of trying to make new friends, and the list goes on and on. 

Now, here I am, in Ireland, and what do I have to say for myself? I’ve already had to confront old feelings of sadness and worthlessness, and new feelings of rejection and “otherness.” I do miss my friends and family. I wish they were with me. I would love nothing more than to share this experience with them. It’s also strange to be here, in this place, with nothing as I hoped it would be when I originally planned on coming. I have been praying ceaselessly, anxiously waiting on God’s orders. I need Him to show me the purpose of the muck that’s been made of my life this year. Where is the light? Hope? Joy? When can I feel like myself again? When will my broken heart be restored? What is the point of all this?

 

Tomorrow we being work with Dublin Christian Mission. I am making an attempt to have tunnel vision with this—to see nothing else but His vision and His mission. No one else, and nothing else matters.