Dublin—Day 2

I woke up after about 15 hours of sleep. The day began with breakfast at a local bakery whose name I can’t remember. I ordered “Scrambled Eggs on Toast and a Fruit Tartlet.” The fruit tartlet was outrageously decadent, and the scrambled eggs on toast was literally about four eggs and two whole pieces of toast. If you think about it, it’s a lot of food! 

But that’s not the best part. In the cake window we see a beautiful cake with the words “Happy Birthday Kyle” written on it. I thought “what a coincidence!” (it was Kyle’s birthday the day before). This became more suspicious as the moments passed, and in case you missed it, Mrs. Deason had written on my Facebook to notify me that she had ordered a cake from a bakery near our hostel. Turns out, this was that very cake. After some grocery shopping, we arrived back at the hostel just in time to receive the cake and a rendition of “Happy Birthday” from one of the men at the desk. Lovely!

Then it was off to Dublin Christian Mission, where we met Leasel, who told us a little about what we would encounter during our visit. There’s no need to divulge the heart-wrenching details about the lives of the children here, just know that it’s a dark place. 

After two prayer meetings and some tea and cookies, we went to The Lighthouse, a homeless ministry in town. Kyle and Nathan led worship for the crowd of mostly men, and then Kelly and I washed dishes while the rest of the team performed their respective duties for the evening. This was a shining moment of the trip so far; I love the way God brings people together and how divine conversations happen without any effort of our own. Kelly and I turned out to have very much in common, and, I won’t speak for Kelly, but I felt much better upon leaving The Lighthouse about where I stood on this trip. I felt so happy that I could encourage Kelly, and that she, perhaps knowingly, perhaps not, could to the same for me. 

Somewhere in the middle of the feeding and fellowship, one of the women, clearly under the influence of drugs and/or alcohol, decided to pull out the fire extinguisher and get about half the room soaking wet. Luckily, Kelly and I were out of range, but I can’t say the same for Nathan, who was guarding the door. Honestly, my heart broke for these people. They’re in such desperate situations, and I couldn’t help my heart feeling overwhelmingly heavier being around them. There was another drunk man who had to be removed from The Lighthouse, and as they were ushering him out, he yelled “You pray your prayers, but you don’t see!”  Again, humbled and heartbroken, this man has been on my mind and continues to wreck my heart with his words. But I never discredit the words of the lost. Perception is sometimes reality—if that’s how he perceived Christians, then what do we need to do to change that misconception?

On a lighter note, I also want to point out that we left The Lighthouse around 9 o’clock PM, and it was still quite bright outside. It gets dark so late here! It’s blowing my mind. 

After frozen pizzas and a debriefing in the hostel room, Nathan, Kyle and I decided to have a little adventure, and went walking around the streets of Dublin. First, some ladies tried to poor beer on us from their apartment windows—so sweet of them—then, after some wandering, we stumbled upon a small Pub, where we heard traditional Irish Country Music. This was so fantastic; I don’t think words can accurately describe it. We were the youngest people there, and the moment this quaint old man began singing one of his songs, absolutely everyone in the pub knew the song word-for-word! It was amazing! Such unity and a healthy dose of patriotism! I wish we had something like that in America. This place is so rich with culture and tradition and history, it’s beautiful to watch. Little old men danced with taller old women, everyone with a Guinness in hand, and singing so merrily and cheerfully—I almost felt Irish myself! 

Finally, God has really been moving on my heart about a lot of things that have plagued me for months. He’s really been asking me to trust Him more and more; to trust that He hasn’t forgotten about me, to trust that He’s got me in His arms, to trust how much He loves me and hates to see me cry, and that His plan will not disappoint me—He has big, big plans for me, and even though I don’t know what they are, I am going to make a more conscious effort not to worry about so many things—about plans, about what people think, about how I’m perceived, about the chaos in my life—God is a God of order and peace, not of chaos and confusion.