Here I sit by the window in my cozy little row house, sucking in all the sunshine afforded me on this lovely September day. Students from Queen's College mosey their way down the Stranmillis Lane without a care in the world, that is, until term time begins in October. The luxurious clouds make their way slowly across the sky like fluffy sheep in a field of hazy blue. Today is a day to appreciate my surroundings. Today is a day to be thankful.  The past few weeks have been wrought with confusion and craziness, but this moment is mine and I grasp it eagerly; wholeheartedly.

     This morning the interns met with Pastor Derek McKelvey. Derek is, from what I can tell, one of those rare few, whose hearts are so steadily attuned to God that they seem to pick up His frequency with very little hindrance from the outside world. Pastor McKelvey is a tall man, (at least compared to my wee 5'6), though, perhaps, nondescript at first glance. He has a pair of, what can only be described as, arresting blue eyes, that seem to see the very soul of a matter, if not of the person them self. It is quite difficult to meet this intimidating gaze, but somehow one can sense that if one's faults are discovered, they will not be quickly judged.

     One of McKelvey's favorite pastimes is to approach someone sitting in a chair discreetly from behind and then hurl one of his legs over the top of their head in the fashion of a can-can girl. After this, he will smile sheepishly at the nearest bystander in mock contrition at this outrageous performance. I have been forewarned that if ever I chance to see the vision of an outstretched leg flying over my head, not to blink, not to move a muscle, or, most assuredly, I will be kicked in the head.

     Another principle character at Fisherwick is Katherine. Katherine is the assistant minister at Fisherwick and one of those rare people who are gorgeous without having a thing to do with it. She is a tall blond of about 5'8", with blue green eyes that blink and sparkle excitedly whenever she's speaking about something that interests her. Katherine also possesses a soft, soothing voice that belies her quick wit and energetic disposition. I'm sure there will be more descriptions in future blogs. 

      Everyday I wake up in a bit of confusion as I listen to the different accents battling it out in the kitchen, or the Spaniard beep boxing upstairs. I'm most definitely not in Kansas anymore, and yet, I realize as I sit in the rare, brilliant, Irish sunshine, philosophizing contentedly, that I'm beginning to make a place for myself in this wee world. It's still hard to let go; to allow myself to be happy here; because, in truth, I miss what was, and what could have been. I miss all that is familiar and natural for me. That bold sense of independence that formerly was mine has been tossed away as I rely on God to provide my every breath. I can barely count change for myself, let alone pay the electric bill! I miss the little nuances of American life that I had so taken for granted. I'm terrified that God won't let me go back; that everything that I hold dear at home will be taken all away, and that all I am will now have to mold to this new place, this new country.

      But these are melancholy wanderings not fit for the beauty of this day. With all of these misgivings, I have met God here. Formerly, I wrote that it was near useless to resist the summons of a king. He is here. I have felt Him as I walked through Chlorine Gardens. I have heard Him in the lilt of an Irish voice and seen Him in the gaze of those ever penetrating Irish eyes.

      C.S. Lewis is quoted as saying we have a God sized vacuum in our souls. If this is so, God seems to be filling every corner of this void in me with none other than Himself. I only needed to move half way across the world to see this ;). Keep me in your prayers, if you will, as I most certainly have you all in mine. - Rachel