It’s hard to believe it was just a month ago that we left Northern Ireland. 4 weeks have passed since we dined regularly with our friends, volunteered alongside fellow church-goers, and felt rain on our faces daily. 29 days have gone by where we haven’t driven on the left side of the road, hung our clothes to dry on the radiator, or taken a trip to ASDA.
Oh, Northern Ireland! I’m forgetting the sound of your accents, the lilt of your voices as you sing, banter, or share with me. Already I’ve forgotten which shop had the cheapest butter, or when they restocked the fresh produce, and the name of the cashier we saw there EVERY SINGLE TIME.
Sometimes people ask about you, sometimes they don’t. They ask about the weather, the food, the clothes, the church-life. They ask how the boys did, what they thought of the whole thing, and how they adjusted to the culture. They ask what we did every day, and what was the point of us going there anyway? These are all great questions but honestly, they are hard to answer. I know IN MY HEAD the answers to all these questions but one response leads to another question and another explanation and more and more chatting and conversation and after it’s all over, I am “feeling all the feels” (internet-speak for, a lot of emotions have been stirred up in me). I love talking about my time in Northern Ireland and am so honored when people take time out of their day to ask but, if I’m being truthful, how can I sum up a year in a short conversation?! Would it take me a whole year to talk about it? Or longer because a lot happened that requires even more explanation? I’m not sure of the answers to these yet but I’ll keep you posted. I do know one thing: we just keep taking steps forward. But like my tween self’s favorite band says, “We all struggle with forward motion, ’cause forward motion is harder than it sounds.” (Reliant K) But alas, we keep moving forward, although difficult at times.
Sometimes, Northern Ireland, I think of you like a lightbulb. We “plugged you in” to our lives for eleven months but now that we’ve moved away, a new lightbulb called Kansas City has taken your place. But oh, thank heavens, that is not how it works! The places we’ve lived are not just household items we throw away once we’ve moved on. They are like chapters in a book. Chapters that hold information you cannot continue reading without knowing. Chapters that contain stories of people, changed hearts, new perspectives, tears, laughter, skills obtained, and lessons learned. My life journey is like a book and Northern Ireland, you hold a chapter. A chapter that I refer back to every single day.
…a chapter that impressed so much upon me that it has changed the trajectory of every subsequent chapter in my story.
A month ago we boarded a plane and instructed our 3 year old to “wave goodbye to Northern Ireland!” like we were going to be back in a few days or something. Unfortunately, it’ll be a few more days before we go back. This has probably been one of the most difficult things about coming “home” to Kansas City… Hosea thinks we’re going back soon. Every time we get in the car he asks if we’re going “home” to Northern Ireland and it’s almost like living with someone who has memory loss. He keeps asking and we keep telling him but for now, that’s just how it is. Forward motion is taking place and we’re reintegrating ourselves into this community, but we are different than we were before. “Home” is where the heart is, and our hearts are spread across the globe.