Dominick's Hill

Ruins of a church in Athenrey.

Pastor Brad to the rescue!!

Stained Glass at the Catholic Church in Gallaway.

Me doing what I love on the beach!

O'Brian's Castle on Inis Oirr

The Plassey: it wrecked in the 60's on Inis Oirr and no one will pay to have it cleaned up.

Walls, Walls, Walls, they're everywhere...

Cill Gobnait Church

Cill Gobnait Church

Jane Eyre Memorial

Cliffs of Moher

Quinn Friary Abbey

Ireland Pilgrimage: The Abridged Version

So you may be asking how my Ireland trip was...

If your only asking to be courteous, I'll be short and sweet: Unfathomable.

If your asking because you care a little: God changed my life.

If you really want to know: read my last blog-- "Acres of Hope"

Acres of Hope: The Full Story of My Ireland Pilgrimage (well, almost the full story)

"Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have their hearts set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools." -Psalm 84

Ireland was amazing. There are no words to express all that God did--but I will try. After landing in Shannon, we took a buss to the Quinn Friary Abbey. The story of the abbey goes a little like this: There was a man who lived on the property, and one day he walked out to the river to find that his little boy had drown. He pulled him out of the river and prayed, "God if you will save my son, I will serve you the rest of my days." God healed the boy and brought him back to life. The man soon turned his property into an Abbey. Every night for 100 years, the monks would walk down to the place where God brought the boy back to life, and they would light a fire to direct the incoming pilgrims and let them know they had reached a safe place. When the Catholics got kicked out of Ireland, one monk sacrificed everything and risked his life to stay and upkeep the abbey.

Next we drove to Magh Adhair. What looks like a hill in the middle of a field, is the place where the kings of Ireland were once coronated. Towards the end of the coronation ceremonies, the king would have to pronounce, before all of the kingdom, the one thing that would prevent him from being the best king he could be. In doing this, he was held accountable to his shortcoming by the entire kingdom. We were instructed to get a rock and write the one thing that would hold us back from giving everything to God during the week.

The last stop of the day was the Cliffs of Moher. The cliffs are breathtaking as you look 700ft down to the waves crashing against the rocks. I stood atop the cliff and cast my stone (symbolically my need to be in control) into the sea below. Then I walked to the edge and laid down. The site-seeing of the first day would, ironically, become a spiritual road map for all the God was going to do during the week. I must sacrafice; I must confess my weakness; I must give up my flesh; I must walk to the edge and lay myself down before Christ--then, I may enter into the full and abundant life I have been promised.

The next morning we went to Discovery Church. This small church has maybe 15 members, including kids, and meets in a hotel conference room. Mr.Diamond was a guest speaker this morning and he spoke on the gifts God gives us, but sometimes we are like bratty children who turn our nose up and say this is not what I wanted. The scripture he used now seems like a prophetic word to what the pilgrimage would become. "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has concieved what God has prepared for those who love him" (1 Corinthians 2:9). As we traveled to Ireland, I had no idea what God would do. I felt as though I was already on the mountaintop and that we were there to plant seeds that would transform the Valley of Baca (Baca means brokenness and tears) that Ireland was in, into a place of springs of living water. Little did I know that is what God would be doing in my life. All that has happened is unfathomable and beyond comprehension.

Later that evening, we boarded a boat bound for the Aran Islands. Inis Oirr (Inisheer) is an amazing little island occupied by only 250 people. This quickly became my favorite part of the trip, as I know is true for the majority of our group. This island became inhabited originally by people choosing green martyrdom. They would pull themselves out of society to pray and get into God's word before they would leave for long term missions. On this island, they were separating their faith from their culture and distractions so that they were better able to seek the face of God. In the same way, we were here separating our faith from American culture, and we were on this island to prepare us for what lay ahead.

The first night on the island, God moved in my heart in a way that I was not expecting. Shawn (the leader of the trip) said that the Valley of Baca (brokenness and tears) is mostly caused by sacrifice. I disagreed and said that though a lot of it is caused by sacrifice, a lot is also caused by grief of past wounds. Once we remove the band aids we have placed on our hearts and are broken before God, He is able to restore us. I then used the example of my mom: I have forgiven her, but the wounds are still there and I am just now at the point of allowing God to heal me. (I was saying all of this to speak to a girl in our group, not for myself.) Shawn then called me out by saying that removing the band aids is a sacrifice of leaving our comfort zone. He told me that my band aids are always trying to help other people deal with their hurt and their wounds, and in doing this I was putting band aids on my heart. At this point I was in tears, and later I wrote in my journal, "As I approach the summit of this mountain, I can not try to carry anyone else along with me. I must surrender to God so that He can finish this work in me and enable me; I must press in and trust Him."

Early the next morning, we had the choice to sacrifice sleep and warmth and make our way up to Cill Ghobnait. Inis Oirr was an island for mainly men, but they let one woman come (and later she had a small nunnery on the island--Cill Ghobnait). We worshipped in the church that the nuns had built and worshipped in for 500 years. Its amazing to think that the devout had been laying themselves bare before God in the very place I was now standing for 500 years. These people had sacrifice everything and endured very trying lives that they may know the Lord more. Just as they choose sacrifice, I too must choose sacrifice, and lay down all the comforts I cling to, that God may become my all-in-all.

After worshipping at Cill Ghobnait, we took a vow of a 2hr silence and went off to pray. God touches my heart through nature, even more so, through being on the beach. So, I walked along the small stretch of sand that I may go and sit on the rocks and seek my Beloved. As I walked along the sand, a black rock caught my gaze. I picked it up and thought how beautiful this little rock was. Several times, I thought about setting it down because it was sticky with salt and covered in sand--yet, I did not put it down. As I set on the rocks, I submitted my flesh to the almighty. All of my attempts at life and happiness; all of the band aids I used to make the wounds of my childhood feel better; all the things that I have held on to, I laid everything down before God. Upon releasing it to Him, I stood up and cast the rock into the sea. I throw like a girl, but I chunked this rock with all that I had and watched it sink to the depths of the sea. As I walked back, I kept my eyes focused forward, but something caused me to look down into the sand. A shell caught my glance. I went to pick it up thinking it would be broken and have something wrong with it, but to my disbelief, it was perfectly in tact. It is the strangest shell I have ever seen; it was beautiful. God quickened me that the rock was my attempt at life. So many times I thought about laying it down, but I didn't. This exquisite shell is what He has had for me, He was just waiting on me to surrender so that I may receive His gift.

"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise" (Psalm 51:17). I've always liked this verse, but as Shawn explained it, it took on a whole new meaning. Contrite means to fall down and give up. I just imagined myself face first before the cross allowing God's presence to surround me in the way that only He can. When broken is translated from Aramic it is Gethsemane, as in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus prayed so fervently that He sweat blood. In Jerusalem, you could go to the market and buy wine or olive oil for a very high price, or you could go to Gethsemane and purchase the grapes and olives very inexpensively and then crush them yourself to release the precious liquid inside. In the same way if we allow God to break us and crush our hearts, He can release the precious gift that is locked inside. This is what God was wanting to do to me on this trip. He wanted to break my heart and crush me that I may be restored to that for which I was created. That morning on the rocks was not an event in which this happened, but a starting place for the journey ahead.

The next day we went to Au Tobar Nua (the new well), an outreach to high school students, and listened to Kelly speak. Kelly is a brilliant man who is after God's own heart. He was a hardcore atheist for a long time, and then led a mediocre Sunday-Christian life, but He was rich. He owned a mansion on a hill and 10 car classic corvette collection. After deciding to give God everything, He realized he knew nothing about the bible. He sacrificed everything and sold everything, except what fit into their LandRover, and they left and went to bible school for a year. Then they moved to Ireland and opened up the coffee shop. Since then, He has lived off of the money from selling all of his possessions. He has not taken a single donation for himself and his family, but has invested it all into Au Tobar Nua. During our first meeting with them, we had a small service. His wife stood up and read her favorite Psalm: Psalm 84. By the time she was done, we were all laughing: that was the verse for our trip. Kelly went on to talk, and I later wrote in my journal: "Find the root problem; the fruit of the problem can be plucked away, but it will grow back more fervently if you do not kill the root." Ironically, I did just that a couple days later. Without remembering have written this, I wrote down a seed to fruit chart of the things that were holding my heart back from God.

Later that night, we had sanctuary back at the Eschar Monastery (where we were staying). We had worshipped and were going around and saying what God was doing in our lives. I'm usually one of the first ones to speak because I know a lot of people have problems with it, and I have no problem getting the ball rolling. This night I held back and waited (a soon-to-be recurrence on the trip). After one of the girls professed her longing for her and her father to have a relationship and a sweet daddy-daughter moment, her sister spoke up and said that she was jealous because she did not have a relationship with her mother, a sweet mommy-daughter moment pursued. I sat there stunned and wondering when it would be my turn. Well, it was my turn to speak. Through choked tears I said that I was jealous; when would it be my turn for restoration in my family. By the time I was done speaking, I was in racking sobs and ended by saying, "I just want someone to love me." God quickly responded to that with, "Why won't you let me love you?" Molly (another leader) came up to me and told me to go up to the alter and face the palms of my hand toward the ground and release everything I was holding onto to God, then to turn my palms up and receive the healing I had been running from.

After doing this I wrote: "I let go. I emptied my hands to the Lord and poured out everything I was holding on to. Then fear crept in. Fear of failure, fear of myself, fear that I wouldn't let go. I bound up the spirit of fear and the enemy and told him to flee. Several times the words left my lips--but only as a whisper. Fear was holding me back. I stood on the edge--it is sink or swim from here. After many attempts, I found the courage to yell the word FLEE. At that moment I released it to God and said, "I wash my hands of this." I opened my eyes and there, in the the middle of the chapel, was a sink. I stood up off of my knees and walked over. Slowly, I turned on the water and let it flow over my hands. It permeated and drenched my soul. When God was done, I turned it off and blessed myself--giving God control to my mind, my heart, my soul, my strength and body. Then I lifted my hands to receive His freedom..." Ironically, when I was on the rocks, I got scared, and began to bind up the spirit of fear and the enemy. I tried to yell flee, but I couldn't. On an island of 250 people, I could not find the courage to yell the word flee. At the alter, God brought completion to what was started.

The next two days were a blur. I felt that God had done all that He had come to do, I didn't even
see the resurrection coming.

Then I had a dream which confirmed all that Shawn had said that first night on Inis Oirr. In the dream I was scurrying about trying to feed all of the girls in my cabin. God kept telling me to sit down and eat, but I kept going trying to take care of everyone else. Finally, He grabbed my face and told me to sit down and eat--I did. Then I felt this incredible peace and strength. God wants me to stop trying to feed and pour into his sheep by trying to spur everyone on towards healing. If I sit down and partake of Him, peace and strength will be my own and ministry will naturally flow out.

The next night, we walked throughout the stations of the cross. There are 14 of them, but these are the one's God used to speak to my heart:

Jesus falls the first time: My first fall happened before I left for Ireland. I fell due to the my need for control and to guide the stops of my life. I tried to band aid the wounds of my childhood, and I fell flat on my face. But Jesus was there to help me back up, to help me to continue on my journey to the crucifixion of my flesh.

Jesus meets His mother: Mary's eyes gazed upon the boy she had once scolded (Luke 2:41-50). How many times I have scolded God for allowing my heart to be trampled and allowing me to fall, yet He still is faithful to take care of me. Jesus took responsibility for His mother (by giving her over to the care of one of the disciples). I need to do the same. "This cross upon my shoulders is weighted with my family. I'm angry at the empty promises, lack of trust, lack of normalcy, lack of loyalty and love. My heart has been pierced through and through by my mom, dad, aunt and uncle, granny and papa, and cousins. But You are calling me up higher--thought their words and actions bring death, you are calling me to soar on with love. Instead of returning death for death, I need to keep my promises (and not avoid commitment), trust them (by taking them at their word and not assuming the worst), fulfill the role I am called to as a daughter, grand-daughter, niece, and cousin, be loyal (by not bad-talking them to my friends), and love them unconditionally despite my wounds--just as You have loved me unconditionally though I repeatedly break your heart.

Jesus falls the second time: "Again Lord, I fell, but this time in a different way. As I sat above the sea on Inis Oirr, I cast my flesh down that I may be molded and shaped by your artistic hand. I had to fall so that you may be lifted."

Jesus comforts the women: Luke 23 says that as Jesus comforted the women, He said that they would bless the barren (who were cursed in that day) and they would cry out to the mountains and hills to fall on them. This is a quote from Hosea 10:8, "The high places of wickedness will be destroyed--it is the sin of Israel (the church). Thorns and thistles will grow up and cover your alters. Then they will say to the mountains 'Cover us!' and to the hills, 'Fall on us!'" I have let thorns and thistles grow up over my place of sacrifice, so much so that it was almost choked out completely. What is it that we need to cut away that we may see God clearly?
Jesus falls a third time: "A third time I fell. At your alter, I released the pain of childhood and family, crushed again by the burdens I carry, I must make the decision to finish the journey. Just as you denied help, I must now lift my burdens and make the decision to take the final step toward you. I now must choose sacrifice."

Jesus is stripped: "For a moment, you have lifted my cross, the pain has subsided, but you are now preparing me and stripping me of the band-aids, masks, and costumes I have used to hide my heart of hearts. I see your hand at work in the past year preparing me for this moment in my journey. Lord, I stand naked before you and ask that you would enable me to be the woman that you have called me to be--that I would not be afraid to let my true, God-given feminity shine."

"Holy Father, I commit my spirit to you. I choose to leave my self, my flesh, and all of its pain and wounds in the tomb. In choosing death, I choose life."

The next day was resurrection day--the day I would emerge from the tomb victoriously dead to myself and alive to Christ. As I sat there in sanctuary, the lyrics to 'Acres of Hope' came into my head: "He will allure her, He will pursue her, call her out, to wilderness...She is responding, Beat up and hurting, deserving death." And I opened to Hosea and read: "Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her (that's what God had been doing even before I left for the trip). There I will giver her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor (Achor means trouble ie:Baca) a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt (ie:bondage; when I first got saved). In that day, declares the Lord, you will call me my husband, you will no longer call me my master. I will remove the name of the Baals (ie: false gods: my band aids) from her lips; no longer will their names be invoked...Bow and sword and battle (the turbulence of my wounds) I will abolish from the land, so that all may lie down in safety. I will betroth (to promise in marriage) you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. I will betroth you in faithfulness, and you will acknowledge the Lord." Again, I was moved to tears, and again, it was my turn to speak to the group.

After I had shared what God had done in my heart during the trip, Shawn once again called me out and asked what I needed from the group. I had no idea that the words that proceeded were buried in my heart. I cried out for acceptance, for people to look past the stereotypes that society imposes on me. I am more than a cheerleader; I am more than a sorority girl; I am more than your typical Dallasite. My heart bursts with a creativity that must escape. Beauty and art are written on my soul, and they scream to be released in worship to God. If only people would see the poetry that I strive for my life to write.

All week I had been longing for someone to get up and give me a hug, but God had held them back (literally; they had told me they had to sit on their hands to prevent themselves from getting up). God was wanting me to accept His love as my heart's satisfaction. After I verbalized what I needed from the group, Shawn--not knowing anything about hugs--told the entire group to go and give me a hug.

As I stand back and peer into the past week, I see the ultimate Creative Mind orchestrating the entire event and working out each and every detail to play a big part in His masterpiece. One day, I had the privilege to kneel at the alter at St. Nicholas Church. This isn't just any alter. Before Christopher set out on the journey that would change the course of history, he found the America's ;-), he went on a personal pilgrimage to Ireland, were at this alter, he knelt and asked for God to guide and direct his journey. As I knelt in the same spot where Christopher Columbus knelt, I cried out to God, that this pilgrimage would be the start of a journey that would turn me into a history maker.