"Where am I again?"

Wow. I feel so restless! Strange.

These next few blogs will be mostly for my own sake, I suppose. So many thoughts and emotions are swirling around in my head that I have to get them out on "paper" and make sense of them.

I just said goodbye to Dad, the last one to head off to work/school for the day. I wandered around the house, noticing so many little changes since I've been home: red candles on the coffee table, a new lamp on Heidi's desk, a new faucet on the kitchen sink. I'm glad for them – they are reminders that I was really gone, and it wasn't all a dream. An 8-hour flight across the Atlantic gave me no time to realize that I was now thousands of miles away from my life of the last 3 months. Getting my luggage at Chicago, saying goodbye to everyone...we knew it'd be only weeks until we saw each other again, but it feels like forever...

...well, I seem to have jetlag all taken care of, that's a good thing. I fell asleep around nine, woke up around 8, and feel pretty rested...

Hmmm. It's so weird not to have 29 people around. One of the first things I did this morning (just before writing this) was to update my Facebook status and see what other FISPers are up to. It's so silly, feeling like I just want to talk with one of them for 20 minutes or so! I mean, I just saw them all yesterday. I suppose this will be one of the biggest adjustments – the [physical] distance between us all now. 

Some things I felt when I first got home:

"Hi mom and dad!" (Wait, am I happy?......Ok, yeah, I am. Good.) "So...uh...how's it going?"

"Hmm, I wonder if my parents are getting tired of me talking about people they don't know all the way back from Chicago."

"Oh, darn it! I forgot to make a peat fire in the living room one last time. I miss that smell...like burning dirt."

"What, Roj wants texting? Why would he need that? I wish I didn't have to have my cellphone back!"

"Geez, our house is huge! For only 6 people? Wow!"

"I like all the plants in the living room. That's nice." (I didn't realize we had no potted plants at the Y until I got home!)

"Why do I have all this stuff here? Why in the world do I need it?"

"Oh yeay, my family."

"I desperately need a cup of tea." (Tea=a bit of normalcy)

"Oh yeah, I can get internet on my laptop now! Wow, I wonder how many updates I'll have to download..."

"Hey ... I'm alone for the first time in 3 months! This is kinda nice...weird, but nice."

"Agck! We don't have any normal tea!!!!!! What were my parents thinking?!?!?"

...Well, I guess this "sweet coconut thai chai" will have to do. But it's just not the same... >sniffle sniffle<

It is nice to be home.

Later, 

Hannah Babe

Ah, the Britons, the Britons :)

This is Jon and Lisa, Theo (left) and Joseph (w/guitar). How I'm gonna miss them!

Final Days and "Disasters"

Well, this has been the most unexpectedly eventful weekend of my entire time in Ireland. Just to clue you in on the last 3 days of my life...

We got on the 6:20 DART, got off at Bray, and hiked Brayhead to watch the sunrise. There are countless paths to get up (too many trailblazers) and I ended up climbing the last 30 or 40 feet to the top. Too bad I missed the nice, sloping grassy path a few yards away. Oh well, it was more fun climbing rocks. And worship was really good. Then we hiked back down to Greystones and got back at 10ish, 11ish. So that was a pretty good time, nice walk.

(so ps I got like 4 hours of sleep the night before)

So then just after lunch, Lauren Sparks and I decided to kayaking. After Jonathan gave us the parentish "be safe" speech (which was really weird to hear after 3 months!) we headed south. Beautiful trip, with a great view of the mainland. So we get pretty far, and I realize that I am really tired. Exhausted, actually. So I yell at Lauren that I'm too tired to go any farther, and we try to go back. The current, the choppier waves, and the wind keep us from making any progress and so we land on shore and drag the kayaks down the beach until it turns too rocky. So then we get out in the kayaks again, and we're both completely shot. She told me that she couldn't paddle any farther, so I got the great idea of tying her kayak behind mine and paddling us both while she steered herself. Fail. And then while I was untying her I flipped my kayak, fell into the sea (freezing!) and swam back to shore with my kayak. I was really happy my watch still worked, but this is when I really started to worry...about things like hypothermia and stuff. I'm pretty sure God gave us both the strength to get back to the Greystones beach, because both of us were praying like mad and wondering how our arms were still moving. Finally we got to the closest end of the beach, and then Lauren ran back to the Y to get some guys to carry the kayaks back. (No way we could kayak or carry them back from there!) While I waited for help, I sat for awhile, saw a seal (yeay) and then got so cold that I resorted to dragging both kayaks further down the beach. I actually gave up on anyone coming, and I was just about to leave the kayaks when I saw Ian and Brad coming. Yeay. Apparently Lauren didn't tell them how far down the beach I was, so they walked all they way back to the Y to get better directions :). anyway, our 1 1/2 hour kayak trip turned into a 3 hour test of endurance and strength of will. then we went to a tschaikovsky symphony, which was amazing, but I was pretty out of it. Apparently I was completely pale and glazed-eyed the rest of the evening. Hopefully I provided some entertainment to our group. :)

Moral of the story...don't go ocean kayaking after a long walk/hike, and–if you're a parent-figure–always remember to tell me to turn back when I'm halfway tired!

Saturday (after a long sleep-in), Lauren and I went to Dublin. We missed the first DART, waited 20 minutes for the next one. We were supposed to meet two friends an hour later, so we waited for them at the Dublin station for 45 minutes (they were caught up in their own kayaking adventure, but that's another crazy story.) so then we decided to catch a quick DART south to save walking time, and we ended up going the WRONG way and ended up at the north station! Shame, shame, to get confused by the DART after 2 months of riding it all the time. :) So we waited 15 minutes or so to get back to where we wanted to be, and then promptly took a really long way to the Arcade Market because we got a little lost. Craziness. We decided that hanging out is fun, and the trouble is worth it, but nevertheless Lauren+Hannah=Rather Bad Luck.

Alright, so skip to today (Monday), our last day here. We had Irish dance class at 4pm, and so I was carrying a friend piggyback across the yard so her socks wouldn't get dirty. All the sudden, slip! I wipe out in the mud, and all of her weight and mine drive my shin down into the cement buffer between the lawn and the driveway. I was kind of afraid I chipped the bone or something...ow. So needless to say, I watched our last dance class while icing my shin. There's a nice bruise and scrape about 3/4 the length of my shin. At least I won't be walking much tomorrow! It's not as bad as I feared, but it's pretty sore and tender.

So I then take a shower to get unmuddied, and pack my razor and soap away. As I'm shoving them in my suitcase, the razor cuts through the ziplock bag and slices the edge of my pinkie. Dang it!!!! Lot's of wonderful flashbacks of slicing the side of my thumb off in Thailand made me freak out a little, and I actually cried more about that little slice than my leg. Silly. :)

So maybe these are signs that it's time to come home. Just kidding,  I'm ready to come home, but I didn't realize how HARD it would be to say goodbye to Jon, Lisa, Joe and Theo. I can't really bear it, actually. Thank goodness for Facebook and email! Besides Brian, who will bus us to the airport in 2 hours (it's 2am now), I've said all my goodbyes, and I'm just tediously waiting for the dreaded moment when Ireland vanishes beneath the clouds. The only consolation is that I'll come back someday, and see everyone again!

See you soon,

Hannah Babe

God moves

Wow...I'll be home in less than a week! It's easy to think that the trip is basically 'over,' but God has definitely worked in these last few days of our semester.
Yesterday evening we were in our last 'class' with our chaplain, Jen. Each of us had made a picture, a song, or poem that expressed our own experience in Ireland, and we shared them with the group that night. We ended up talking and sharing for three hours, and even afterward people had some good conversations in smaller groups. It was incredible to hear from those who decided to be vulnerable and really share what had been going on in their hearts. I definitely feel our group got closer, and that people overcame a lot of fear as they trusted us with their struggles.
This morning during chapel a group of us did the 'Lifehouse Everything' drama - the same one I did in Mexico this summer. Chapel is usually an hour long, but really all we had was the 5 minute drama and then Chelsea invited people to reflect, to think about what was holding them back from God and to seek him out. I admit I was a little worried; after all, most of these kids have seen this drama before-how much could it truly speak to them? As the song played in the background, I went over to a corner and just prayed for people. When I looked up ten minutes later I was astonished : people were praying with each other, people were broken and earnestly crying out to God. For three hours people cried, prayed, and talked together. Later Johnathan asked me who did chapel, and really all I could say was 'it was God's chapel.' He took our little drama and created an atmosphere of brokenness, love, and fellowship. I was so encouraged to see him working: I felt Joy. It was as if he revealed to us all that he'd been doing in our lives over the past three months...time that many of us felt he was absent.
Of course, a lot of the emotion that's been brought up will fade. But the glimpses of true Christian fellowship, and of God's work in our hearts...I think that will last.

Further Up! and Further In

Nine days left!

I'm ready to see family and friends again, but I'm getting very sad about leaving Ireland. The country is beautiful and rich with history, but I'm going to miss the people most: Jonathan and his family, chaplain Jennifer Lewis, our bus driver Brian King. I feel like I'm just starting to get to know them, and it's time to leave! I want to go out for coffee with a lot of people this week–make the most of the time I have left with them.

A friend and I went up to Malahide last weekend. It is one of the last stops on the DART north of Dublin, and there's a beautiful park there with tennis courts, a golf course, rugby and soccer fields, and even a castle. But the best part was the playground! It was the best playground I've ever been to...tire swings, , and a sweet contraption I can only call "The spinny tire thingy." For a late lunch we went to a pub–I think it was the most "Irish" pub I've been to so far. Away from most tourist areas, it was filled with groups of "mates" watching televised soccer and families out for a bite after their son's or daughter's own soccer match. 

I really love the pub atmosphere here: dark oak furniture, walls decorated with posters and old portraits like an Applebee's, the din of voices and laughter, and–if you're lucky–a band of musicians playing traditional Irish tunes. Add a few friends and a rock shanty (orange soda plus lemon soda), and you've got yourself a sure recipe for great conversation and lasting memories. The other day I went up to Dublin with a some friends and we went to  the Brazen Head pub – the oldest in Ireland, started in 1198. There was some live music – a mandolin, bodhran drum, banjo, and guitar – and so we hung out for awhile and talked over rock shanties and coffee. I really want to make sure I continue relationships with the FISP group: it will be so strange not to see everyone in the mornings!

Right now we're on a two-day tour of Northern Ireland – or "the North of Ireland," to those call it "six counties under enemy occupation." There is still a lot of hostility between those who want Northern Ireland to be part of England (Unionists) and those who want it to become part of the Republic (Nationalists). The sticky thing about the situation is that many unionists are protestant, and many nationalists are catholic– so the conflict has been labeled a sectarian one when it really is political.

 It's hard for me to imagine hating another person merely for their political or religious stance. So much prejudice and bitterness–here in Belfast, in Israel, between inner-city gangs...right at home–could be ended by reconciliation and getting to know people for who they are, not what they're labeled. Satan is very good at using ignorance and twisted information to divide us, isn't he?

We hiked the cliffs of Slieve League yesterday afternoon. It was soo beautiful. I can't imagine what it's like on a sunny day–it must be literally breathtaking. As it was–misty, grey and cold–the cliffs and mountains were gorgeous. I was glad for the chance to cavort over the rocky, heather-covered crags of Ireland one more time.

On the way back from Slieve League we passed a castle built on the very edge of the cliffs. I'm pretty sure it was the castle that inspired Cair Paravel. I would've loved running around the ruins, but it was getting dark so we just passed by. Still....Coolness.

Oh yeah...we went to the Giant's Causeway, too! Hexagonal stones spread out like pavement lead right into the sea. No one really knows how they formed, but it's suspected volcanic rock melted and formed these perfectly shaped rocks. It was fun to climb around and watch the sea crash over the stone. It was kinda slippery though. I got pretty wet. :) It was worth it.

A Bit of Public Reflection...

Last Sunday those of us who go to Hillside Community Church led the service. Four students led worship, and it took us all a while to decide who should speak. On Saturday, I felt I should be one of them–though I had little idea what I was supposed to talk about. It wasn't until 10 or 11pm that Rachel felt God was calling her to speak too. The service went well; I think most of us were a little nervous (I certainly was!) but we got some good feedback and I feel like it connected us better with our fellow church-goers. A couple of people also mentioned that I have talent in writing and that I should pursue it–which was really encouraging, because I've been wondering if writing is really what I should do in the future. Anyway, here's what I wrote up late Saturday night and then shared Sunday morning:

Coming to Ireland has given me a lot of time to think. My only obligation here is schoolwork, so a lot of emotions and thoughts that were once buried under busyness have surfaced. Just to give you a glimpse into what I've been going through, I'll share some quotes from my journaling over the past few months. My mind has been all over the place. "The hope that I was destined to greatness withers," I wrote. "The world tells me there is no great Story unfolding. I am restricted from joining "Frodo's Fellowship"; the "Matrix" is all there is. God, when will you free me from this cage of the world?" Two weeks later I wrote, "I am one whose heart is on fire; I am one who stands straight and tall ready to challenge the One of this world. I am a warrior of the King; I am the beautiful, strong maiden who defeats injustice and shows mercy. I am the companion of poets and soldiers, of romantics and philosophers, of dreamers and doers. I am Christ to the world. Christ is the world to me." 

What brought about this change in attitude?

One thing I've realized is that life cannot be lived to the fullest if I don't share myself with others. In times when I'm depressed, worn out and discouraged, sharing my thoughts and my struggles with another Christian lifts my burdens. There's something about sharing life with others that reminds me, "There's more to life than your sorrows. Look outside yourself and see God in his people." And fellowship with other Christians gives me the strength and desire to reach out to others.

I see so many middle-aged American couples living a monotonous life–go to work, come home, pay the bills, wish for the weekend, do yard-work, teach Sunday school, join a Bible study, cook dinner...In truth, I'm terrified that I might become another pacified schedule-follower that dreams less of changing the world than of seeking pirates' treasure in my backyard. What happens to the dreams of our childhood–the dreams of being swept up in an adventure, of being part of a wonderful romance? John Eldridge asserts in his book "The Sacred Romance" that these childhood longings are really a longing for God–for living a life chosen by him, fighting side by side with him for humanity, building a deep and vibrant love-relationship with him.

Shane Claireborn, the author of The Irresistible Revolution, tells the true story of one couple's "radical" displays of Christ's love. "A married couple who were unable to have children happened to meet a woman who had found herself six months pregnant and homeless, so they invited her into their home. It proved to be such a beautiful experience that they decided to continue living together to help raise the new baby girl while the mother pursued her dream of going back to school to become a nurse. They have been living together for a decade now." This is the way I want to live, risking to love and fight for strangers in need with the bold passion of Jesus Christ.

See, it's dangerously easy for me to confuse righteousness with busyness for God. For so long I've based my faith on works alone–"Lord, what am I supposed to do?" is a question I ask far more than "God, I want to know you." There are times where I was so busy "doing things for God"–Bible study, youth groups, service projects–that I neglected my relationship with him. Yet Jesus is much more concerned about relationships than duties. In Matthew 23 Jesus condemns the teachers of the law not for their deeds–they lived with calculated "perfection"–but for their selfish pride. Our actions should flow from the heart, not from guilt or obligation. I think so often I try to change myself by doing more for God by my own effort, but seeking God out and letting him work in my heart is the only way I will truly be transformed. That's why I think dreaming and hoping in Christ is so important–instead of wearing ourselves out with things we "have to do," we serve and love others out of the overflow of a vibrant heart wholly devoted to God.

I am only a college student who knows little of the "real" world or its troubles; it's easy for me to dream. Yet I'm continually tempted to become complacent and content with just living to survive, asking little of the world and hoping it doesn't require to much of me. Don't stay content with a "normal life". Don't stay safe in predictability. I encourage you to get away–maybe to a coffee shop for a few hours, maybe to the park for a day–and let God remind you of longings for heroism and romance that are hidden deep inside you. You may find out more than you'd like to about yourself–some of the pain still unhealed from past experiences, some mistrust of God from circumstances where he seemed distant. I encourage you to explore both the dreams and hurts inside, because as Shane Claireborn noted, "When we realize that we are both wretched and beautiful, we are freed up to see others the same way."

And then act on this–pursue God as the lover of your heart, dare him to place you beside Christ on the front-lines of the battle for human souls. After all, eternal life doesn't start in heaven for us–it begins now. Live it to the fullest. When our lifestyles are rooted in a deep hope found in Christ, we will truly start to make a difference in the lives around us.

After the service I stayed around, helping serve tea and coffee, chatting with a few people, and playing soccer with the boys outside until their parents dragged them home. :) We were so busy with classes and schooltrips that I hadn't had time to play soccer with 10-year old Joseph and his friends last week. Today I made up for it by playing with them in the backyard after Irish dancing lessons–which are lots of fun! (Can't say I'm very good...) It's definitely fall–that tingle of ball on cold skin is a tell-tale sign. :)

Love you all,

Hannah Babe

Stone Columns and Cobble Streets

Well! It's been a couple of weeks since Rome and Venice, but the memories are unforgettable!

–Walking 4 or so miles looking for our bungalow the first day

–Countless rides on the subway

–Eating pizza every night at the Trevi Fountain

–Following up pizza with gelato at Giolitti :)

–Seeing the Vatican

–Making up stories about "Pope Lightning!"

–Lots of stairs...usually descending the same stairsteps after realizing we went the wrong way

–Drinking from aqueduct-supplied fountains

–Seeing the Colosseum and the Roman Forum

–Touring catacombs at St. Stephen's

–Kicking a wall while waiting for a bus

–Watching a Communist parade

–Capturing 25 minutes of Jared eating a HUGE gelato cone on video

–Riding a train to Venice at night...and trying to sleep

–Sleeping outdoors on the floor of the train station at 5am

–Watching Venice come alive Sunday morning

–Tramping around mazelike streets all day looking for San Marco's and "the pigeon place"

–Climbing a few trees, trying to open a few doors...

–Shopping at a random flea market in a square

–Marveling at carnival masks in shop window

–Finally reaching San Marco's! and saying, "Cool...ok, let's go." :)

Overall we had a great time. There were five others in our group: Katie Moore, Chelsea Moore, Grant Gaenzle, Jared Bakker, and Chadd Schaffer. Yeay for Italy!

Later friends,

Hannah Babe

p.s. Pictures are on the way if our connection cooperates!