authentic adventurers: The Truth About Ireland

So I’m not sure if this is normal or just me, but when I return from a trip I, without a doubt, always get this hollow feeling in my chest. This blackhole that sucks the joy out of the quiet moments in being home. Sometimes the emptiness will be covered up for a night of fun with friends I missed or an extra weird dinner with my family, but for the most part, each day the blackhole wreaks havoc on my smiles and laughter and is only subdued after its size has shrunk with the passing of several days. Actually, I’m quite certain that is not normal at all.

Frankly, that feeling sucks a ton, and this summer I have dealt with it an overwhelming amount. I am actually dwelling on the feeling right now. This might be the longest the feeling has gone on, but, thankfully, it seems to have shrunk substantially. You see, about three weeks ago I returned from a mission trip from Ireland. And this trip was different. Very different.

There were many reasons it was. First off being that it was a mission trip with the student ministry of my church, but that wasn’t the main reason it was unique from many others. (Although, that was a big contributor.) Ireland was different, because I have never felt true, whole-hearted community until I was there. And coming back to Georgia after having a place filled in my soul that I wasn’t aware needed filling, to have it being ripped open again, was agonizing.

I have no idea how to portray what the experience was like, but for the first time in my life I was in a group that I felt completely at home with. And sure, I’ve felt comfortable with many different groups, but none so large, so full of differences, so in harmony, so strange, so accepting, so Christ-centered.

When I was in Ireland, I was among an enormous group of people I didn't know before that week. There were over thirty Irish kids I had never met, not to mention the numerous adults and Americans also on the trip I didn’t know beforehand. I was surrounded by people I knew for only a couple days, but I was so at peace among them. There wasn’t a single person I didn’t like. Honestly, I didn’t even get to know every person there, but I found a home in Ireland. A community. A family where each person was welcome with open arms. Wow, my heart hurts just thinking about how wonderful it was.

I long, I ache, to return to that place. To those people. But I know that won’t happen. Can’t happen.

And you know what’s kind of funny about the whole thing? We weren’t even doing deep things every five seconds. Of course we worshipped and prayed and joined in the name of God together, but most of the time we were just goofing off. When we weren’t in morning or night sessions we were either sporting, playing a card game called Nerts (which is intense enough to be considered a sport), being spazzy or grumpy or strange or somber or giggly, or prancing around lakes and singing to cows. How weird is that? That God showed Himself most to me when I was playing cards or be ridiculously competitive during outdoor games, rather than in traditional moments - like quiet time or during speeches about the Bible.

Wow, God is so complex and cool. And dang, I didn’t even mean for this to be a super spiritual post, but God can’t be ignored. Especially when talking about Ireland.

All I can say is - Thank you, God. Thank you for showing me what Your family is like. What Heaven will be like. What peace in You and Your people is. What true joy is. How you can make a group focused on you flourish. How you reveal Yourself in strange ways.

And what community honestly is.