I remember when I first found out our squad was going to Ireland. The first time I found out was actually when I signed up for the race. You see, Ireland was one of the main reasons why I chose the route that I did. After the first 2 months on the race, I questioned why I wanted to go so bad and even thought it wouldn't add up to all of the expectations I had. After completing my month in Ireland, I can say in all honesty, that I was completely blown away. Not many countries make it on my return list but this country and the people with whom I spent my time, make it more than worthy of revisiting in the future.
I walk around as the cold air glides across my cheek and fresh air enters my lungs. People with similar colored skin tones walk past as their smiles greet me. This country already seems too much like home, that's what I thought. This place is too similar to the one I have grown to know. I don't know how much I will be needed or how I could help here or ideally, how I could ever be remembered. Then, just as soon as these thoughts came into my mind, they disappeared. I had this idea; an idea that I could do something a little different or maybe even a little unorthodox. I wanted to do Bar Ministry. I wanted to go out to the pubs at night and build relationships with strangers and truly get to know the Irish, because that's where the Irish are, in the pubs. I wanted to have real conversations with real people in a real place. I wanted to get to know these people. I wanted to hear their stories while also being able to share my own. I wanted to be someone they could talk to, even if it was just for one night. I just wanted to be there. Partly because I know how different my own life could have been if there would have been someone there for me…sooner. I thought this was a great idea but then God took my idea and made it into something greater, I realized that, while those people paying for the drinks needed love, the people serving them needed it as well and maybe even a little more. My idea soon became a vision and I knew what I had to do. I had to walk into a local pub and ask if I could help. Excitement enabled me to see it as the steps in walking their turned into anxiety and then that soon turned into fear. I knew in the back of my mind, that I didn't want to play it safe and walking through that swinging wooden door was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I remember that day, that Thursday afternoon, God telling me to walk in there and just ask if they needed help and saying back "But… what if they say, 'No'." My question didn't stop me. That day I walked up to the owner of the bar and asked if I could help; I said "Even if that means me doing your toilets, I'll do it." I started that following Monday at 10am. My Vision: just enable them to like me and let them see the true meaning of Christianity.
Monday was not just another day. It was the beginning to what I would like to call a huge change in my life. It is the day that my words became actions and I was about to truly live the vision I had. I was no longer just talking the talk, I was actually walking it. I was truly living a dream that I could see. I was truly living. I started that day with the toilets and by that first afternoon, had a conversation with the bar owner's brother, Colm. He was learning Spanish and needed someone to converse and practice with. I speak Spanish. God definitely is a planner. Everyday I ended up starting with toilets and ending with Spanish lessons. Everyday, God showed me his own specific love for me because every part of me loves Spanish. That's how he is though; he is intricately meticulous.
Colm was not just another man that needed some help with Spanish. He was someone with whom I could relate to. He was in need of someone to be there because he was broken, just like I was, just like we all are. Colm opened up to me, he showed up even when the days were hard and over two weeks, he never missed a single lesson of Spanish. It's funny how God can do such big things through lessons in another language. It's funny how God can do great things if we have the capability in speaking a language we all relate to. I now know Colm, truly. I know his struggles, his regrets, and his past. I know how much he loves and appreciates the help and encouragement he receives day in and day out from his sister, Clare (the owner of the bar). I know the dreams he has and the passion he can put into them. I understand his longings to find purpose in something greater than himself. I am grateful for his willingness to listen to the words that God put in my mouth to speak to him and I am fortunate for his willingness to receive them. Each day we would begin by speaking Spanish but by the end of the day we were speaking life. In getting to know Colm, I know undoubtedly that his heart can be transformed; I know that the things of his past can be redeemed and that areas of his soul that have been emotionless, will be able to feel again; I know this because, although he has no idea, the two weeks I spent with him enabled God to shine light on areas of my heart that still remained in darkness. Just a few hours a day, just some words of encouragement, just being there for someone whom I barely knew; that was all it took to repair the damaged areas of my own heart. It may have seemed like I was helping someone but in the end, he was helping me.
This is what happens when you let go and you let God. Big things happen. Ideas become visions and visions become dreams that you never thought could be possible. If I were to end here, many would miss out on what more I got to experience. That's how God does it, with more. Within working at the pub, I had the opportunity to share my story with Clare, the owner. I have never been one to push my beliefs on someone; I would rather just live it out and have them ask why I am different. Many 'Christians' would think that this is risky, especially if one is only in a country for a month. It seems a little edgy to assume you could build a strong enough foundation for the conversation on 'beliefs' to occur in only a month's time. I remember that first week. I remember walking through the city center, the hustle and bustle of people walking by; the sound of Irish accents comforted me. I was living in the scene of the movie P.S. I Love You. I remember just praying that God would give me a joy that would be worth questions, a joy worthy of curiosity. For anyone who knows me, they will know that I am mostly joyous. I always like to make people laugh, I like to see people smile, because to me, that is who God is, a God of joy. I remember during a drive to Giant's Causeway, Clare asked "Where do you get that happiness, where do you get that joy, why are you so content?" I knew within that moment that God had given me just what I asked for and of course, more. I was enabling God's love and light to shine through me. I was being seen and so was he.
After just one week of working in the pub, I was shown what generosity is. Clare knew that our squad cooked for ourselves at the Scout Hall, so she decided that she would have a chili night for 52 people; 51 people that she didn't know. I definitely learned a lesson on generosity in seeing how she was willing to serve strangers. Her and another great woman, Susan, cooked some of the most amazing Irish food, I have ever had. They served each person on my squad and they did it with joy. If that wasn't enough, on my free days both Clare and Susan took me to see different sites in Northern Ireland. I remember sitting in the front seat, zooming down the snake-curved roads, through the Irish countryside; hills of all shades of green were speckled with sheep. I was in Ireland but I wasn't merely there, I was experiencing it and getting to truly know the people. I was making memories with the locals. I was making memories that I will never forget.
By that last week in Ireland, I decided to get a small tattoo for something that I could look at and remember my time there. Something that would always show me that we must be bold and carry joy. I got a tattoo that would and will always do just that. Many may think, 'Oh my gosh…why would you get that or get something on your body that is permanent?' I can honestly say, when I look at the ink that embellishes the inside of my right index finger, I will be able to share my story of Ireland. I will be able to share a story of walking the walk. I will be able to share a story of a joy turned to love. Although it is humbling to know that God handpicked me to love the people in Johnston's Pub, I myself have come to the realization that he handpicked those people to give me just what I needed. I feel honored that Clare said "Monday 10am." I am appreciative for the effort that Colm made in order to be at the pub every single day as well as church that last Sunday. I feel overwhelmed with gratitude at how welcoming the entire staff was. I feel grateful beyond measure at the friendships that I made and know that will be everlasting. I am humbled that God used me to be at that bar, at that time, with those people – those people who will always have a place in my heart. Those people that when I left, said that they would miss me. The people that I can now truly call, friends. Johnston's Pub is what I will always remember as love in the pub.
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