Dublin, Part 1: Your Bag is a Jungle

I boarded a train from Central Station in Belfast (UK) headed for Dublin (Republic of Ireland). They're two different countries, which means, they use two different kinds of money. Honestly, Euros, to me, look like monopoly money and pounds sterling (or what is sometimes, in London, called "quid") is really beautiful. Actually, both Euros and pounds a lot fancier than US dollars, in my opinion.
Anyway, this is some of the scenery out the train window. Ah, the ministry of rolling hills. I have to say, going down I was really nervous - I was nervous about what stop to get off at, how I was going to find the group I was supposed to meet up with in a (foreign) city I've never been it, being by myself, if I was going to make any friends, etc. But this scenery was amazing - it was calming in its patient beauty. It's just there, being what it is, being as true as it can (while it, as part of creation is yet groaning for the sons and daughters of God to be revealeD), and it was beautiful. I prayed that my true self would be like that, that if I were to find it as I've set out to do this summer, it would be like those rolling Irish Hills.
I also appreciated, though, the not-hiding that goes on here, in stark contrast to most of my life. There were periods along the "journey" (what people call "trip" here) where not-so-pretty but real-life stuff was displayed along the path. (This happened along the tour bus journey, too - and, in Ireland, they've got their gravesights 'randomly' along the sides of roads.
Actually, the entire Urban Soul event just felt more...solid, the city felt more real, the people were...honest. It was such a blessing to see Dublin this way. There were three little girls who got on the train around Newry (right above the Ireland border) and sat with me (it was crowded). They eventually begin bantering about Americans and, essentially, making fun of my people. It was really humbling, though, because...well, I can't say they were exactly wrong in terms of their generalities. I mean, there is a reason why we Americans have the reputation we do. It was amazing - I didn't get defensive, I actually began apologizing to God for the ways I've participated in my human being-ness on this planet by buying into the American Dream. Anyway, at one point during the make-fun-of-American's fun and games, one of the girls pretending to be "the world" said to the other girl pretending to be "America", "Hey, I'm a really poor person - you must have so much stuff. I mean, your bag looks like a JUNGLE!"
Whoa hey. (These girls couldn't have been more than 9 years old).

Once I arrived (safely and soundly, with only one minor glitch) at Urban Soul, I was met with a group of about 300 or so Christians from all over the world gathered together for four days in the centre of Dublin City to go out and do random acts of kindness in the name of Jesus. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, the schedule went like this: breakfast at half 8 (8:30), worship, prayer and speaker at half 9 (9:30), pack lunch and head out to your assigned project at 11, come back for dinner at quarter 5 (17:15), then more worship and a speaker from half 7 (19:30) until 9. The concerts were great, it was SO good to worship (man, God is really breaking me wide open in that area, I now cry during any sort of worship). The guy in the red shirt in the back is Jimmy from P-A. Apparently it IS true that all people from Pennsylvania say, "I'm from Pee Ay." I asked Jimmy (from Lancaster, apparently in "Amish Country") why Pennsylvanians are the only Americans who refer to their place of origin by its postal code (yes, exactly like that, too), and he said, "Well, 'Pennsylvania' is just too long. We've brilliantly shortened it." Uh, right. So, I'm from Colorado (which has just as many syllables). I don't walk around goin', "Hey, I'm from CEE - OH!" My cousins are from Boston. I've never heard one of them say, "I'm from EM - AY". Although, I have to say, Pennsylvania is rather difficult to spell (that's, like, the only word I have to slow down for to type), so maybe they (as in, every person I've ever met from PA [which is turning out to be quite a lot, and weirdly enough, they all either go or went to Penn State]) are doing us a favor by shortening it. :-).
Then, from 9 till half 10 or so, there was "late night at the Cafe" where the worship band played some more, there were snacks for purchase and you could hang out. Or, as I and a friend I met from California (who was also traveling by herself), go back to the hostel, Jacob's Inn (on the left). I found this hang-out time to be particularly challenging so I didn't stay around much. I struggled a lot with self-consciousness, feeling incredibly awkward (which I've actually gotten a prophetic word about), and not knowing what to say or how to interact "normally". It really did, as it so often does, feel as though people just aren't looking for the same things I'm looking for in friendship. (Not that I'm saying I'm any better, I'm just always felt painfully different in the area of relationships).
But God did awesome stuff with me anyway. God's bag of plans for people's lives are so much more incredible than we can ask or imagine. For one example, I met a girl called Sarah (on the right) who was traveling with a friend (also called Megan, on the left) from California as JARON Missionaries. She and I, as we came to find out, were struggling with the EXACT same things in relation to men, marriage and facing our feminine hearts before God. We had the most healing conversation I've had in my life - and one of the deepest parts of the healing was that she felt the same way about our conversations. She initiated praying with me at the end of our trip, and shared a lot about her experiences with how God has been working with her in the area of "the biggest promise of a person's life" (that is, marriage). God met me, not through a flashy prophetic word like I'd been coveting, but answering two of my prayers at once: a sign that He cares about what is really in my heart, and my desire for relationship. I think I'm starting to believe William P. Young when he says in his book "The Shack", "I believe that since most of our wounding comes through relationships, so, too, will most of our healing."

Out of this budding friendship with Sarah, a lot of pressure was released. In just one tiny conversation over breakfast, Sarah informed me that the actual translation of the Great Commission is NOT "GO out and make disciples" but "AS YOU ARE GOING, make disciples." I have felt, since I became a Christian, a terrible sense of failure over my failing to sew Jesus seeds wherever I go - I have, in fact, not been able to share my faith with anyone, really. I think I am one of those people who has been "overevangelized." The youth group at the church I grew up seemed to only care about befriending people as a means of converting them. It was actually only until I met a Christian who did not even really tell me she was Christian, but hung out with me, called when she said she would call, and loved me the best way she knew how, that I became Christian. As if to drive home this point in healing for me, the sermon preached at my home church last Sunday (7/5/09) was, in part, about exactly that. Thank You Lord. It's not about going out to make disciples, it's about living in a way that makes them; that our life would be (for we really have one purpose - it's amazing that God answered my question about that so directly - which is to glorify God). About a year ago, the former senior pastor at my church said in a sermon that we are indeed to be prepared to give a reason to everyone who asks for the hope that we have, "but that is presuming that someone has asked you!" Life is to be lived in such a way that someone asks. More on this - that is, the "service" piece of Urban Soul - tomorrow. The part of the sermon about 29 minutes into it, about friendship and the kind of friend we are to be to others, works. It is exactly how I came to Christ, and is really, for me, the only way I would have. Thank you, Rebekah.

For just another example, I fell in love. Hard. Now, I can't go to sleep unless I've read the Bible. A week ago, the speaker at Summer Madness (in Belfast) prayed the anointing of Esther and Daniel over me, so I began to read those books to see what that was about. Also, last August, my pastor, during a prophetic word he was giving me, asked me if I'd ever read Ezekiel. "Read it, Megan, and stop complaining about seeing things you don't understand." Check.

God really spoke me through all of the speakers. There was Andy from Northern Ireland - a pastor in Belfast. The main message I got from him was with God, you either like Him or you love Him. It's sort of like this: if you're a teenage guy, you probably are interested in girls. So, you start to talk to one of them, and you're all shy but you're doing great, until your group of buddies comes around the corner, and then, you are 180 degrees from what you were one minute ago. You like girls, but you're not willing - yet - to compromise. God wants more. This is the whole warning about being lukewarm. Either be hot or cold. Then, Simon from Peckham (England) spoke about long-term relationships (something I'd cried myself to sleep the past week and half wishing and praying for), and how it is only in long term relationships, friendships, mentorships, etc. that people really learn how to live loved. (It's comparable to my opinion of short term missions and how they can actually be more harmful than helpful, but that's for another day...).
My favorite speaker, though, was Mark Ritchie. This bloke is a passionate Scottsman who is probably the funniest person I've ever met - and yes, I got to meet him. He prayed for me and my trip to Scotland. He spoke two nights in a row, and each time, he opened with a snorter - that is, a hysterical story of something that had happened to him. It had no relation to his sermon or speeh, but it was the best way ever to break up the tension and ease everyone into hearing from God. His main message was about being a "carrier" - that is, carrying the smile of God, the presence of God, and a broken generation (mine) to the cross. Can I just say, I LOVE Scottish accents. And, the two men I've met from Scotland (Alan Ross and Mark) are some of the softest, most true-hearted people I've ever met. I can't WAIT to go to Scotland (and I might get to spend a week or so in Edinburgh before I go to Iona with my SPU friends).
The worship was, as I've alluded to, fairly amazing. We didn't sing any songs I've not sung before but, apparently, my heart is in a different place than it was even a month ago. I actually BELIEVE what I'm singing now! I really DO surrender all - or at least as much of me as I know of to as much of Him as I know of, I really do believe that He's alive, etc. Paul Baloche, apparently a really famous worship leader, played two nights for us. (Please excuse the blurriness of the picture, I had to jump to get a good shot). I'd not heard of him, but I've heard a LOT of his songs. We also had the Redemption Youth Choir, based out of Africa (I think), and Drive (from Oklahoma) come. So, the "event" part of the event was quite God-filled, in a personal way especially, but also in a corporate way - which is the first time I've been able to really feel that corporateness very strongly at all (and will total strangers, too!).
God's bag really is a jungle! And a much better one than what the little Irish girls on the train were referencing...