P-town

As most people that know me now know, I'm back in Portland for a little while. I expect to be here at least through the end of September, though I really don't know. It all depends on how quickly (or slowly!) the UK government process my work visa stuff. It's already been a long process, and they are way behind their own timetables, so it's anyone's guess how long it will take.

In the mean time I'm back in Portland, my hometown for the last 26 years. I really love this city at this time of year, and the weather has been pretty nice, even on the really hot days. I think having A/C (or "air con", as they say in the UK) in my bedroom might have a lot to do with my not minding the hot days.

It's been strange to be home, mostly because it feels so normal. I guess I didn't think I would click so easily into things being automatic here. I drove Kathleen's car on the first day I was back and I didn't even once feel like I was on the wrong side of the road or anything like that. I think it's because in this context it's normal to be on the right side of the road, so I just did what is normal in this context.

Although I'm loving seeing everyone, enjoying the weather and resting up in this season that feels like a vacation (though I am working some still in my volunteer post with 24-7 Prayer), I am finding myself really missing the UK. I think the best way I can describe how it feel to be here is that it's like going to your parents' house after you move out. It will always feel like home, but it's not home at the same time. Now that a few things have been settled about my ongoing role with 24-7 Prayer, and I know for sure I'll be settling long-term in the town of Reading, I am anxious to put this six months of transition and living out of a suitcase to an end. I'm eager to get back to the life I'm building in England, and the community of people with which I'm putting down roots. I miss the 24-7 "London Office Gang" even more than I thought I would, and I think about everyone all day long (and especially my partner-in-crime/adopted little sis Andrea, with whom I spend outrageous quantities of my time).

But just as with everything else on this adventure, I feel certain that God has this all figured out and none of it is a surprise to Him. I just keep choosing to trust Him to work out the details, provide me with favor in my visa process, money, (hopefully) some temp work while I'm here and generally work everything out in the best way possible. It's a walk of faith, but I love a good adventure. So for now I'm enjoying home while I can.

Síocháin

Today I visited Christchurch Cathedral in Dublin. I got there around 11am and decided to do the audio guide, which should've had me out in about half an hour. Two hours later I left with a feeling of peace that only comes from hanging out a bit in the presence of God.

I was about half-way through the audio tour when I came to a little corner with candles and an invitation to light one in prayer for peace for Ireland. As I lit one and prayed quietly under my breath I couldn't help but feel deeply how little I really understand the depths of struggle and bloodshed that has been both the ancient and modern history of the people of this little patch of green called Ireland. The strangest thing is how easy it is to associate that kind of struggle with 3rd world nations and forget that at the foundations of all these western-world shops, streets and lovely churches is the blood and tears of many.

I don't mean to be all doom and gloom. I think this city is so very lovely. I just think it's amazing what this modern, western city has seen that my comfy and rarely-touched-by-national-tragedy America never has. I take so very much for granted.

A few minutes after I lit my candle there was an announcement that there would be noon prayers of peace for Ireland. I sat down for the Anglican prayers to which I'm becoming so accustomed, and the vicar began with a blessing of peace and prayer for all of us. And then we prayed the Lord's prayer, which was really lovely for me because I have several friends (you know who you are!) who pause each day at noon to pray the Lord's prayer. It was actually quite moving praying "Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven" and thinking that His kingdom coming and will being done in Ireland was peace for those in turmoil, pain, anger, strife and grief, and His love, hope and complete provision for the hopeless, downtrodden, victimized, marginalized, poor, hungry, homeless and lonely. The vicar started by reminding us that we are all called to be peacemakers and to bring peace to each other's lives. I truly want to be an instrument of His peace, love, help and blessing wherever I go and whatever I do. Today reminded me of that. As if that wasn't lovely enough, when prayers were over a large group of Germans visiting the Cathedral sang two hymns together, one in German and then in English. It was really beautiful.

There is also something I find intensely beyond human about being in a place that men have come to seek and see God for so many hundreds of years - in this case, nearly a thousand. As the German group was singing it made me mindful of how many millions of voices have been raised in song in that very place, all to God - for generations and generations. What a human way to see it, but the locked-into-time nature of my human perspective finds in that perspective a glimpse of how incredible eternity is that is only possible because I am locked into time.

Anyway, all that to say: God, bring your peace to the hearts and lives of the people of Ireland, and release the awareness of your love and goodness so that every kind of peace will continue in this beautiful land.

Normal

Today I was packing stuff to store while I'm on my long visit home and I opened a journal and got sucked in. What I found in my entries of the summer of 2004 made me realize (thankfully!) how much I've grown in the last 7 years since I realized my life didn't work and if I didn't do something about that it would continue to not work until there was no more not-working to be done. It was a good two-year season focused on understanding my self-protective coping mechanisms, un-learning destructive emotional habits and re-learning how to cope with life in healthy and appropriate ways.

The most amusing thing I came across was this journal excerpt:

"Pride is a no-brainer. I know how it feels and how I respond. The shame it's covering is that all my 'hard work' for the past year plus has gotten me to where I do almost what normal people do. How can I boast in that? What's to say? 'Wahoo! I'm almost to the bottom of normal!'?"

Good stuff. Thank God I can actually laugh about it now. At the time I wrote that I would never have imagined I'd look back through that journal and laugh. Normal is a beautiful thing.

In the same folder I also found something I wrote down 1n 1994 which I found rather inspiring, especially after seeing all the reflections of the angst of my hard-earned growth and change. It said "When it seems impossible to go forward, look back at what God has brought you through."

Amen to that!