Greystones (Dublin) and Athlone

with Sally Ann Dyer and Vicky Kishere

God bless Ryanair that it is possible to get three people from three different airports to the same place within a few hours of each other and at prices that don't maim or kill!

At the same time - Father forgive us for adding to the destruction of your creation! 

As this blog develops I feel I need to ask your indulgence in my flitting from the significant and spiritually serious to the simply flippant.  It is just the way I am.  I don't apologise for it .

Tuesday 2nd

We all three came with no set expectations which as we shared this with each other became clear was the only way to come since contacting people to make arrangements had been and continued through the day to be very tricky.

From the very first meeting with "the Irish" in Buenos Aires I have known that the only way, at least for now, for me to come, as and Englishman, to Ireland is as a servant.  No agenda.  No expectations.  Wounds still need to be healed.  The past still needs repentance and forgiveness.

So 

we meet up at the airport . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  

We had a massive queue for the hire car and then I got us slightly lost going through Dublin. But all in all good for our patience and for slowing us down to a pace more suited to Ireland.

Greystones - County Wicklow

We missed meeting up with Marie and spent an hour or so on the beach, mostly laying down looking up at the clouds, reflecting upon why we were here. 

The clouds spoke of seeing God in creation and creation indeed as an expression of God, which is a very Celtic world-view.

The beach reminded us that this was the manner by which Patrick arrived in Ireland, hauling a boat up on a beach.

We then had quite a long discussion of how so often achievements are remembered as the work of one man (or woman) when in fact they were the achievement of a team.   As in the way that we remember Patrick, but not his carpenter or brewer or any of the others.  We know of John Wesley or Hudson Taylor etc. but relatively few "names" readily come to mind.

That rang true of our own experiences, nobodies really or part of teams or team efforts where history will only remember certain names.  For me it is as clear as not appearing in the narrative of a book describing stuff which I was directly involved in. Its all about reward somewhere else, some other time - but it would have been nice.

So I wonder how many great men and women there have been who have never had a chapter, let alone a book written about them. Heroes and heroines of the faith, passed over dead and buried with barley a headstone to remember them

Finally a few phone call did happen and some plans got made for the next couple of days.

What I didn't mention was the Germans.  Now anyone who knows me will be aware that I have something of a heart for Germany.  However!

We have only been able to secure beds at Carrig Eden this time round since there is a party of German teenagers here.  So no dinner, no breakfast, having to eat out. No big deal, just a little inconvenient.  But getting to sleep.  Now there's another matter.  Tuesday night it was midnight before I got to sleep.  But as I write this Thursday a.m. I am coping with not having got to sleep till 2:00 a.m.  It is difficult not to be angry when one is so tired.     Thursday night, Hallelujah, all quiet by midnight - but doh! - that was because they were getting up sometime after 5.00 am to begin the long haul home to the beloved Vaterland!

Still, it got me up to write this and spend some time in the prayer room.  "So I will be thankful" Liz Fitzgibbon is singing behind me.

We began with a late breakfast while Marie travelled down from Dublin. 

That gave us then an hour back at Carrig Eden with her. 

An opportunity for Sally Ann and Vicky to to hear a little more of the heart of Ireland. 

The ride into Dublin on the DART train is beautiful. The Wicklow mountains to the left and the Irish Sea to the right.

Margaret Kehoe met us at Tara Street Station and we began a very personalised tour of Dublin.

We are so grateful to her for her time. Margaret has stood in the place of prayer for Ireland for many years. 

She epitomises the restored Ireland - a right pride in the heritage that is here, the learning, the wisdom, the whimsy, the humility. That mix of taking God very seriously whilst not taking ourselves too seriously!

The Customs House

Symbol of a previous prosperous era

but also of English Rule

The Bank of Ireland in the city centre  is housed in what was the first ever purpose built Parliament building. 

Standing in the House of Lords was a real privilege.

It has two massive wall hangings of the Battle of the Boyne and the Siege of Derry.

Trinity College

Illustration from the Book of Kells

The Bar in the Bank

The Old Post Office

Clonmacnoise http://ntlworld.photobox.co.uk/album/1690790

Dublin http://ntlworld.photobox.co.uk/album/1690619

Glendalough http://ntlworld.photobox.co.uk/album/1690418

Belfast http://ntlworld.photobox.co.uk/album/1690534