Spiral Day...eek!

Sad day…

You can’t win them all folks.  Today has been one of those days.  One of those days that spirals into a pool of self-fulfilling horribleness.

Incident #1: Inner-monologue: “What a beautiful day.  I am totally going to make it into town in the sunshine today.”  Reality: apocalyptic rainstorm half-way to town, and I was wearing a dress.  Okay maybe it wasn’t apocalyptic, but when you are wearing a dress it seemed like the end of the world.

Incident #2: Inner-monologue: “Phew made it to town.” (Short meeting in between thought patterns.) “O well, since my afternoon lunch date got cancelled, I guess I will just catch up on emails, bills, and world events.”  Reality: My computer is dead, and I forgot my charger.  Noooooo.  And it is still raining, so I cannot even escape this nightmare to fetch said charger.

Incident #3: Inner-monologue: “Well the rain isn’t so bad; I’ll just walk around town (with my umbrella), grab some lunch, and then go do some work at the church.” Reality: Despite eating lunch, upon return to church to do work I dropped my Ipod Touch (which I have owned for over two years disaster free) and shattered the bottom half of the screen.  Are you serious UNIVERSE?

Oh no there are incidences #4 and #5…

Incident #4: Run-in with anonymous individual who begins discussing the activity of walking with me.  Anonymous person: “Oh well you see you’re fine up top.  It is just your hips that are wide.  You know that’s your problem.”  Inner-monologue: “You knew I was having a bad day didn’t you?  Thank you very much for reminding me of “my problem area” and also for explaining there wasn’t much to be done.  I got the memo, but I am going to try to run a marathon now since there is no other hope.”

Incident #5: Inner-monologue: “I am feeling utterly defeated.  I guess I should cycle home while there is sunshine and eat dinner (reduced portion size…see incident #4 for details).”  Reality: As I begin cycling home, and just as the bike lane opens up officially, a car determines that it is not yet ready for the bike lane. Result: I must try to jump up on the sidewalk…Result: I fall short…Result: raw hands, two bloody knees, and a severely wounded ego.  About half way home the shock began to wear off and my knees began to hurt.  Once I got home, I took a restorative shower, and attempted to crawl into bed on my knees.  Well, I can tell you I will not be doing that for a few weeks.

Believe it or not, all of this managed to happen before 5pm.  I am trusting it can’t get much worse.   Wow, my knees really hurt.  And I totally forgot to log in the incident report that a dog chased me as I went home.  I won, but he could be waiting for my return.  And also universe, where is Gerard Butler (I know he is Scottish, but he portrayed an Irishman in P.S. I Love You)?  I mean I have come to Ireland, traveled through the scenic countryside, and have been chased by numerous dogs…yet not once has a young, attractive Irish lad attempted to save me.  P.S. I Love You (the movie version) you instill false hope in intelligent yet hopelessly romantic twenty something year old women. 

Now I hope everyone feels better about their own lives today, and now thinking through my day it actually wasn’t bad at all.  I mean my accident could have been worse, and I did make it home in one piece.  I got to talk to the one and only Karen Robins (she is the bomb.com). I also met some lovely individuals in town who happened to ask me where the Methodist Church was, and I was able to make their day by taking them back and showing them around.  And I found some gifts to send home. 

At the end of the day I have to remember that I am still blessed and God is still good…praying tomorrow is better J

Expensive Fish & Chips and Cheap Kindness

Fish and Chips=Epic Fail

Quantity does not equal quality.  I made the fatal mistake of attempting to eat an authentic meal of fish and chips here in Killarney.  There is no need to mention establishment names, but there is also not much to say other than the fact that the fish was bland (not even vinegar on the table); the chips (French fries) were hard on the inside; and the salt shaker was broken.  Now the grand total of this purchase was 13.95 euros…that’s like 17 or 18 dollars.  Epic fail.  I was trying to treat myself because I had been doing really well not eating out and making sure I wasn’t wasting money, and then this terribly sad experience.  Well, needless to say, I will not be making many more attempts to experience fine culture through the medium of food.  I am content with my homecooking (make that very content).  I would have been happier with a bowl of soup and a piece of brown bread. 

Why am I explaining this grotesquely long boring story you ask because, of course, it is my desire to avoid talking about important stuff like calling and discernment.  I’m getting there though. 

Over this last month I have had more pastoral training than I have in my seminary experience.  Throughout the last 2 years I have had enumerable opportunities to witness ministry (and for that I am grateful), but I will have to say I was never at a point before where I felt comfortable stepping in and being a part of that ministry in anyway that made me vulnerable.  It is so easy in ministry to attempt to do the things that are important but are really detached.  Building relationships and getting to know people, their stories, and ultimately their hearts is hard work, but it is by far the only work that really means anything (of this fact I am becoming more and more assured).  That is why ministry is horrifying to me because if you are willing to really know someone then you must be willing to know someone—the good and the bad; the joy and the pain; the sin and the grace.  

Over the counter hospitality is quite easy for myself.  Giving someone a smile as they pass or exchange a few words is easy—I guess you could say it is cheap kindness because it costs me nothing and it has very little return.  But costly kindness—the type that endures through intimacy is not easy.  It takes a lot of grace to be able to embody this costly kindness and a lot of prayer.  I also think it is a spiritual gift (that most ministers should probably possess).  When you see people at their worst, at their most grieved, and at their most joyous—the intimacy of these moments that a pastor shares in are unique and, at times, overwhelming.  Sharing tears with a stranger over the loss of his/her estranged, beloved son is not normal—but then the work of God is not normal.  It comes in the form of a defenseless child to an unwed girl. 

Sometimes cheap kindness is quite appealing because it is so easy, but it seems to me to be constantly fleeting.  It has no endurance and, therefore, cannot sustain any type of meaningful relationship.  The call of society pushes against any type of relationship that dares to defy cheap kindness because, if we do, we might just be guilty of sharing the unconditional love that God calls us to in 1 John 4.  It is this fear of endurance, which prevents so many of us from doing things like training for marathon or hiking up a mountain or investing time into someone we might think might be flawed (news flash: that flawed someone is you.)  Ah, but you see if we do love—the fear is vanquished.        

Castles, Bikes, O MY!

 It is only Tuesday evening, but I thought I might do a mini floggish entry because well I can’t believe time is flying so fast.  Don’t worry, stay tuned more theology to appear in the near future.

I have discovered a few things about my Irish self over these last four weeks…1) I like being outside.  Yes, I know.  Shocker.  Now please do not go out and purchase a tent, so we can share a moonlit night around a fire…this I still do not like.  I do, however, enjoying walking, hiking, and bicycling outside.  I walked all the way to a castle yesterday—o yea! Watch out Durham—this kid is coming back in new fashion with a basket attached to the front. WHAT NOW?  2) I enjoy European Yogurt…at least the kind the Irish make.  And no it isn’t frozen VA Family…I resent that thought.  No, it is liquidy and delicious.  Don’t know what happened to make this conversion a reality but something did, and it is done.  You can’t tell right now but my inner monologue is in the tone of Tina Fey via Liz Lemon (Erin Beall, enjoy).  3) I like tea with a bit of milk, no sugar.  Don’t know what this means for my coffee addiction.  Hopefully nothing because, let’s be honest, if I stop drinking coffee then several commercial franchises may experience bankruptcy and that isn’t ethical in a recession.  These franchises shall remain nameless due to copyright laws (and my own personal shame). 4) I like every version of “INSERT COUNTRY’S Next Top Model”…this may not be a revelation to everyone, but it means something to me. 5) I like line drying my clothes.  Yes, I wish it were because I am a hippy and love nature but actually it is just because I don’t have to wear my jeans one day just to be able to wear them comfortably the next (it’s a crime what the dryer does to your jeans).

Tomorrow will be a bit sad.  My host fairy godmother is leaving for a fortnight (that is still two weeks for the English).  It will be sad now that I will have to revert to my old ways and actually prepare my own breakfast and eat it alone.  Got it Granddaddy Charlie, all good things must come to an end. 

Please continue to be in prayer for the church I am serving and each person who is a part of my journey this summer.  There are many requests I could lift up—and God knows each of them.  I will preach on the “ordinary time” this Sunday because like most Theology nerds I like the Liturgical Calendar and well the scripture I am focusing on talks about the incarnation--and it is fitting--we're moving into ordinary time now…so exciting! 

That’s right everybody who has been keeping track.  I managed to fit liturgical calendar and “next top model” in the same blog, and I am not complaining.  One day I will take on the world, and shout loudly against the man (but not today—sorry those of you who wish I would).

One last thought…so I am addicted to these digestive biscuits with dark chocolate, so I went to the local supermarket the other day and they were BOGO (buy one get one free)!!!!!!  Dad, please don’t tear up…I know you have never been prouder. 

      

no netflix or hulu in Ireland...did you know that?

Hmmmm…a productive day.  Woke up: check. Went to church to sell scones and tea: check. Went to the movies with my host family: check. Came home and had a cup of tea: check.  Built a fire and felt like Tom Hanks in Cast Away: check. Good day: check.

I had hoped this blog would be a flog, which I have deemed to be a ‘funny blog,’ but the spirit has moved me to be more reflective, more open in my confessions.  I often use humor as a way of covering how I really feel, but it is still a part of who I am –so I hope you find it in necessary doses throughout.

Over these last few weeks, I have had the opportunity to listen and talk with people from so many walks of life.  Over the last ten years, Ireland has experienced an influx of people coming from different countries in order to find work or to find a new place to call home.  Whether workers or asylum seekers, these individuals have become part of Ireland’s culture.  Many of them, however, do not come from Catholic backgrounds and, therefore, find it difficult to find a religious home.  As a wonderful and spirit filled result, the Methodist Church, especially in Killarney, has attracted many of these amazing individuals.  I live in the melting pot that is America, and yet I have never worshipped with such a diverse group of people.  While this saddens me in many ways…I feel so blessed to have the opportunity now in this unconventional and unsuspecting setting.

As I have listened to and helped to lead this congregation over the last few weeks, I have struggled agonizingly over what the next year holds.  While I know scripture instructs us to let tomorrow worry about tomorrow…it is hard to be attentive to the next steps the spirit is calling you to take.  At this point, I have no idea what God is calling me to—full time ministry in the church, yes eventually.  But when, where, and in what capacity I have no idea.  All I know is that I am enjoying the role that God has blessed me with here in this place.  I have never been entrusted to lead people in studying the Bible, and to be given that opportunity after so much prayer is exciting (and, still, horrifying).  I will have many opportunities to preach and share my faith—no one (with the exception of one person) has ever asked me to share my testimony or about my faith journey.  And I feel here that people want to know the daily walk. I leave the serious spiritual reflection there for now—more later.

To be sure, however, Ireland is a beautiful and amazing place.  I have to say sorry to the south because Irish hospitality is seriously in the running for overtaking your trademark (of course, I do not consider Reeds UMC in this threatened equation).  I have had more tea and biscuits in the last few weeks.  The scenery is spectacular and there is so much history.  As a self-proclaimed history nerd, reared by her parents to be such, I went to explore Muckross House on my Thursday morning.  A beautiful, Victorian estate right here in Killarney.  Built in the 1840s with grand gardens surrounding, it really is out of a Jane Austen novel.  As I walked through the rooms and the ballroom I kept picturing Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett dancing tensely.  Then as I walked through the gardens I kept imagining I was walking along with a parasol, waiting to be accompanied Mr. Rochester from Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre (Erin Beall you know why).  It was a brilliant scene, and I enjoyed it very much.  I often enjoy doing things like that alone—something I picked up from my many summers away from home. 

There is one thing that doesn’t change once you cross time zones.  Young people still do not darken the doors of the church.  Why? Young People? Why?  I try to analyze my own mind to figure this out and can’t come up with any practical or reasonable explanation.  This will be something I struggle with for the next 10 years…until I am no longer a young adult J

Until then…I am enjoying all of these new experiences.  The people I am getting to know and who are becoming so much a part of my journey here are beyond description.  It will take me more reflecting to come up with adequate ways of conveying who exactly they all are.

Special shout outs:

Marni Kaitlyn Robins—YOU DID IT!!! Congrats smarty! I love you!

DAD—HAPPY FATHER’S DAY and I love you—you are the greatest dad I have ever had! Thank you for everything!

MOM—come visit me.

Kelsi.

LINDSEY BAYNHAM—o loer gosh.

ERIN BEALL—I wish you had knitted me three thousands sweaters before I came to Ireland—it is freezing.

ELIZABETH MAXWELL—countdown continues.

This is a bit of a mash up for now.  It will become clearer what exactly I am trying to document in these entries until then I will let you see it from my point of view—here are some pics I took at from the backyard of a parishioner…breathtaking. 

Better late than never...

Whoa…times flies when you are, well, busy.  I can’t believe I haven’t started this thing until well into my third week in Ireland.  The first issue was that I forgot my laptop cord, so I had no computer for a fortnight (that’s what we call two weeks in Ireland).  The second issue was my Internet access…I live a wee (another Irish term which means ‘not a lot’ or ‘smallish’) bit out in the countryside, which is gorgeous but not ideal for accessing the interwebs.  And the last bit is that I have just been super busy…excitedly, I got thrown into the deep end early in the game.  So…to start out let’s just go ahead and lay out the investigative reporting that needs to be done:

Who: Me=seminary student, who is attempting to discern her call toward ordained ministry in the United Methodist Church.  You=reader of blog that I am trying not to bore you with.

What: Ah…a summer in Ireland, shadowing a local Methodist Pastor named Laurence.  I do everything from wash dishes to sing in the praise band to preach sermons to serving tea (and also drink lots of it).  It really is a fun job. 

Where: Killarney, Ireland.  Located in the southwest of the country of Ireland in County Kerry; we experience mild to heavy rainfall most days with a bit of sunshine thrown in.  We are famous for our lovely scenery and our national park where you can enjoy the natural beauty of Ireland with our native deer and lovely mountains.  In this little Methodist Church in the tourist town of Killarney there is only one employee—the pastor, so the lay involvement is incredibly inspiring.

When: ALL SUMMER!  I arrived May 25 and leave August 23.

Why: Because three years ago my family was on holiday (that’s Irish for vacation) in Ireland, and we happened to spend New Year’s Eve in the Killarney Avenue Hotel located directly beside Killarney Methodist Church.  That evening the church put out a small sign that said watch night service, so, being Methodist in a predominantly Catholic country, we thought this was a bit of a happy coincidence, so we decided to attend.  It turned out to be the highlight of our trip, and when we returned home—I just couldn’t stop thinking about this amazing little church.  Every time I would stop thinking about it my mom would comment “Kori, you really ought to see if you might be able to spend the summer working in that church in Ireland—how cool would that be?”  So I thought about it for almost a year and then decided to google the church.  I did, got the pastor’s number, and gave him a call (at his home).  Of course, it must have been strange to receive a call from a 22 year old, American female who was in seminary.  But the work of the Holy Spirit prevailed, and we started communicating through email.  Eventually we both felt like God was calling us to actualize this summer, and we began making plans for me to come.  That was a year and half ago.  And as I sit and write this entry, it is incredible for me to think back over the last 2 and half years and think to how it all led up to this.  Many times I attempted to make back up plans in case things didn’t work out—and every time those plans fell through.  So, here I sit in a little room inside of a little church in a little town called Killarney.  God is strange sometimes, but God is always good.  I am incredibly blessed to have received this opportunity and am excited for what the next 2 and half months will bring.  Please continue to pray for the church (and every family within it), for its ministry, and for me. 

And please continue to read about my journey this summer and leave any questions/comments you may have.