Hugeness

I am overwhelmed. The goodness, the vastness, the hugeness that is my God envelopes me. My soul is full with His presence. I am so small and insignificant, yet His great and mighty plans somehow include me. What a mighty and gracious God! I am staggered by the bigness of the Lord. Everywhere I turn, He is there. In everything I look upon, He is present and active. He is always working, always shaping, molding, crafting, refining. I am continually in the presence, the process, the period of being made more His perfect child. I am so ashamed of my sin, my wretchedness, my worthlessness, but it is all this that draws Him to me. Through weakness, through brokenness, He is made bigger, greater, and stronger. I revel in my weaknesses because of this truth. He is all encompassing and I want always to be in His great presence-for in it I am made His.

Divison

The church is so divided in this time. Denominations set the body apart. Issues such as baptism by immersion or sprinkling, speaking in tongues, and the manner communion is served cause divisiveness. Personal preference seems to override our true allegiance. I am the worst culprit of this crime. I seek my own comfort and fulfillment in worship all to often. I want my way, not God's way. I hate how the body fights and quibbles over technicalities. The enemy rejoices over such division. We cannot serve ourselves if we wish to be unified. Whom do we serve-ourselves or God?

Struggle...

Battle, fight, war-all happening inside me. I want what is right and what is wrong. I desire goodness, mercy and simultaneosly evil and fleshly happiness. There is nothing good in me-wretched and evil is my nature-I can want nothing apart from darkness and flith. I am a dirty, ugly thing, wallowing in the muck and mire of my own desires. I struggle and push against the cords that bind, rip and keep me from freedom-self forged are some of these cords. I gasp for breath and the air of life. I can taste, see and almost touch it...I myself push it away and sink back into the pit. A hand reaches down, down into that pit-I am lifted-air, life, liberty. I am helpless, useless and without strength. This hand, this giver of life is my strength-life and freedom. Nothing did my efforts prove-all His...

An new road lies ahead...

Emptiness

I hate the emptiness that preempts separation. There always arises within me an unbearable sadness, when thinking and preparing to part from those I love, those close and familiar. It is the kind of hollowness that occurs upon leaving relatives after a wonderfully long visit. It is the sadness and emptiness of a dormitory when all its occupants have scattered to the winds for holiday. It is the loneliness of a home or room of a loved one, when they have vacated your life yet again. It is the emptiness that people leave. Places and occasions hold little significance when not accompanied by human fellowship. I hate the separation and emptiness which ensues upon such occasions, but the beauty of life is that reunion is eminent, both now and eternally...

An Irish Library

I was in awe as we entered. There were shelves and shelves of endless books, all old, all beautifully rich in history. There was a lingering smell of dust and the ancients, these books had seen a great deal. Many eyes had past over the words contained in these pages and many hands had caressed their leafs. A rod iron staircase ascended to the second floor, where even more books were housed and kept by the keepers of the library. I was in heaven. I wandered and gazed in ecstasy at the countless volumes of great literature, Christian theology, scientific thought, and historic records. I selected a few precious volumes and sat absorbed in their pages for a space. Time passed unnoticed, until I was roused from my revere, by the announcement that our group must depart. I sadly ripped myself away from this glorious haven and entered again into reality. I will return, however, to this wondrous place that is the first public library of Northern Ireland. What a glorious thing, books...

Yeats and his epitaph

Another quote...

"The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar,
From the shore of our sorrow"

Quote

"We look before and after
And pine for what is not.."

Walks...

Walking is a wonderful art to practice. It allows one to survey the land and surroundings and it leaves space for thoughtful reflection and prayer. There is something therapeutic in simply strolling along, watching the world around. Creation and its beauty are nearer and more keenly appreciated in such an activity. Walking provides exercise for the body as well as the mind. It seems one can walk infinitely, being lost in thought, and rarely realize the distance covered. Two able legs and an active mind provide one with a priceless outlet of recreation and contemplation, right outside ones front door...

Grace

The God of creation is beyond gracious. In His perfection, He reaches down from his heavenly throne, into the mire of sin and death, withdrawing me His redeemed child. How does one deserve such love? That is the beauty-I do not deserve it, nor does anyone deserve this gracious gift of life and redemption.
I am bogged down in the muck that entangles my spirit. I wallow in lies and vomit anger and bitter resentment, yet He hugs me close. I easily believe the lies and yet His grace abounds; my spirit is incredibly humbled and grateful. I doubt, yet He persists. I look to all other forms of fulfillment, yet He patiently waits. He is my friend, compatriot, lover, and gracious father....He is my Jesus.

Separation

Separation is often necessary in life. Withdrawal from the daily ritualistic routine of life allows for reflection and sanity to reinstate. If one is constantly living within the humdrum of daily living and never steps back to evaluate life and its inner-workings than how can one ever grow? Perhaps a thing is being gone about in entirely the wrong way, and because it is never investigated from afar, it is never remedied-dreadful reality. Life is almost entirely about perspective. If ones perspective is constantly subjective and there is never an opportunity for objective observation, than stagnancy will occur. Withdrawal and contemplation are essential. Separation brings with it sanity...

Identity...

The concept of identity is an ethereal "thing." What determines ones identity? Where does one place their security? Material possessions, physical appearance, intellect, independence, relationships-what? The nature of all of these things is that they are temporal; they are ever-changing and altering. Things that flux are not generally safe to place ones identity in. Yet, most humans do this very thing. We look to all that will ultimately leave us empty and unfulfilled, yet we persist in this course of tenuous identity. I tire of placing myself in things that change and shift. It wearies my spirit to be so uncertain and ever changing. I desire stability and Constance. I want to be secure in my identity. I know it is possible, but much is first required of me-namely my surrender....a thing I am still loath to part with. Which is it then, my identity or my will-the choice is ours.

The land...

The beauties of Northern Ireland are simply, and please ignore, the cliché, breathtaking. I am amazed daily at the natural splendor in which I am being allowed to live and learn. I have awakened every morning to the beautiful sunshine of the Northern sky greeting my tired eyes. I sit in class, discussing great Irish poets and playwrights, while watching our small bay fill with the water of the Irish Sea. The sun glints off of the water, sometimes blinding those sitting opposite the window in the lecture house. The Murron Mountains greet my eyes morning and evening in their immensity and grandeur. They have become a faithful and constant friend. Sometimes their peaks are shrouded and swallowed in cloud, preventing full perspective, but the mist creates its own beauty and mystery.
The Irish Sea coast is but a walk or a bike ride away from our homes and the path to its shores evokes awe and wonder, without fail. The wildlife that greets you along the way to the beach often makes me smile in amused humor. The seagulls sing to my heart and the oddly placed cows dot the path and the road along the way. The latter creatures often prove to make the journey to the beach rather interesting: sometimes blocking the road or simply making funny noises in greeting.
Riding along in a car offers the viewers the picturesque images that are common to anyone pondering the landscape of Northern Ireland. The Green pasture lands are endless and beautiful. Plots of land are separated by stone walls or green hedges, providing the farm land common to Ireland. Cows, sheep and various other livestock graze and feed on the luscious, green grass. The sun plays off of the land and through the trees, creating a magical effect, almost any time of the day.
The beauty of this land is not able to be captured in mere words. Sight and memory are far better tools, but I must attempt with my weak words to communicate God's beauty and glory in the creation in this place...

The Hobbit

I had just arrived home from an outing with the group. I was tired, ready for a cup of tea and a nap, but something inside me-Jesus perhaps-told me to go for a walk. I resisted the feeling, asserting to myself that I had no need of a walk. The feeling, however, persisted and I chose to obey. I strolled along main street Dundrum, enjoying the stares of passing cars. I cut through a path in the woods and strolled at my ease. I picked a wee, yellow flower and inhaled its scent-it smelt like the most natural of perfumes. I strolled on. As I emerged onto the road that led through a neighborhood, I noticed a small figure approaching in the distance. He came from the woods of Murlogh. He was small and somewhat stout. I could tell little until he came closer. He carried a large pack upon his back and wore a hat upon his head. He had quite a beard and smiled sweetly at me as we passed each other. I turned my head to gaze after him and was struck instantly by his stature. This then spawned a new thought, "he is just the size for a hobbit-well, perhaps a larger than average hobbit...." Nonetheless, I believe I was encouraged to go on a walk for many reasons that day, but one of them encompassed being able to glimpse, in the flesh, a real, live, hobbit. My imagination or not, so it stands...

The internet...

Technology is a paradoxical thing. If offers such conveniences, and essentially makes life so much easier. However, there is a catch, as with all things. Any good thing can easily be turned into something devilishly evil. The absence of something generally makes one appreciate it far more when that thing is restored, but perhaps that thing wasn't all that good to begin with? I am discovering that Internet is very much a two edged sword. Modern society is so used to its conveniences and life is difficult to imagine without such technology. But, this wonderful invention creates such distractions and horrible alternatives to real life that I cannot deem it wholly good. It does prove wonderfully convenient at times, but it draws the life out of humanity. It zaps hours, days and even years of our lives. It provides so much at out very figure tips, yet how often do we truly use it for beneficial, and I mean truly beneficial means? It has endless possibilities: It can enhance ones knowledge, or degrade the mind. It can provide new avenues for the imagination, or dull the intellect. One must approach such convenience with caution. It has grave consequences. I sound harsh upon this topic of Internet and technology, but I fear the ramifications are great. Since being without this convenience the past month or so, I feel more able to objectively evaluate, but give me a few days or weeks and it will have me in its clutches again, lest I fight back against complacency...

Coffee

Coffee is a grownup thing. This cliché statement essentially sums up my feelings and sentiments regarding the dark, brewed drink of the adult world. I feel that it somehow by acquiring a taste and a palate for this drink; one essentially passes from the world of childhood to adulthood. It signals a right of passage, if you will. I sadly feel immensely grown and mature when I can proudly brew my own coffee and drink it with wondrous satisfaction or when I can order it at restaurant after a meal and sip it with pleasure. This "adult" drink has somehow brought me into a world of late night studying and deep conversations, early morning revere and much more. In reality, all of this existed before, but it somehow seems more novel and wonderful when accompanied by a good cup of coffee. I have arrived...where yet I do not know...

The "ship"

This thing called relationship is essential. Our lives consist of relationships; it cannot be escaped. We are born into relations and are forced to remain linked to those, our family, until death parts us. As humans, we generally form friendships-another form of relationship. As sexual beings, we also generally link ourselves to a member of the opposite sex and form a dating, marriage, or partnership-yet another “ship.” Very few people in any given civilization live apart or in complete seclusion, at least not forever. Life is commonly spent in communities, building and maintaining relationships. It is in these relationships that life consists.
Familial relations assist in forming and shaping our person-for good or ill. Friendships are another step in maturation. This type of “ship” is not bound by the same rules as that of familial relationship and thus places different expectations on an individual, producing differing levels of behavior and growth. An opposite sex “ship” is the most intimate of human relations. It surpasses familial and friend. Levels differ, depending on life position and the level of intimacy, but generally this type of relationship is the final step in the communal, relational stage of human development.
Essentially then, human beings are bound to one another through this thing called relationship. We are born into it and die in the bonds of the “ship,” and for those who believe in life beyond this present material world, we will then proceed on to the best relationship which encompasses the shadows of all other relationships. We will no longer want for any other “ship” in which to grow; we will have found our final and most fulfilling relationship. We will have come home…

Materialism

Things, things, things are everywhere...I am overwhelmed by the mass of people. I am a material girl-as the song said in a store I shopped in today. I felt ashamed. I do not want things to define me. I am myself, alone and in Christ without anything else. Why then do I strive for worth and value in clothes, things, stuff? I am lied to and believe-just like the rest of the world. We seek fulfillment where it cannot be found. We are empty and fill ourselves with further emptiness. Identity-where does it originate...who and what is my identity...?

Old Irish Women

They are funny and sweet, wise and quirky, they are old Irish women. I have met several since being in Ireland and they are all charming and adorably pleasant. They are infinitely helpful, loving and more than willing to stuff you full. They give you directions, laugh at your accent and do whatever they can to help you. They talk to themselves, read funny books and put on eye liner while riding a bus. They make you tea and squeeze your arm, they are in a word-precious...

Rain

The rainy days are beginning to set in here in Northern Ireland. You have to wonder whether its actually morning when you wake because there is so little sun to indicate the time of day. We have lecture in the boy's house and today was particularly rainy and blustery. The wind howled about the house, moaning and sighing its way through our studies. It matched well the subject matter-W.B Yeats and his inquiries of death and the after life. Our professor, Derrick Bingham, read with passion his lecture notes about Yeats and his life as the rain danced upon the window pains.
These days require an umbrella and raincoat for any out of door activities. The wind and rain chase you indoors as soon as possible, out of the elements. Tea has particular appeal as of late. A cozy house, a warm radiator and a delicious book are most attractive to the senses on rainy days in Ireland...

Autumn in the fish and chips shop

The first thing I noticed upon entering the shop was the mesmerizing Jack-O-Lantern which sat perched atop the counter, its face grinning facetiously at me. The fish and chips shop smelt strongly of grease and fried things. I sat against the window smelling the fish as it fried in the oil. Glowing, orange, smiling pumpkin faces tittered above my head in a string of lights. A hideous looking witch hung suspended in the corner of the window, welcoming the customers. The sly grins of the various Jack-O-Lanterns spoke of the arrival of autumn and the coming holidays. The first day of October, the harvest has come and the leaves will soon change, altering more than simply the countryside. This fall will bring with it change and alteration as colorful as the season…

Solitude...

It is a beautiful thing solitude. The noise of the world ceases, the voices of obligation desist and one is alone. The beauty of nature surrounds, its occupants, ones only companions. The expanse of the sky stretches out before, leading, enticing, and calling one forever away from the madness of the world. The ocean waves ebb and flow crash and recede, spilling over ones weary mind. Prayer outflows and a plethora of thanksgivings ensue. One can contemplate and reflect, think and pray in the quiet and retreat of solitude. No wonder Christ so often sought solitude...