Merry Christ

This Years Christmas was to break the mold, as my father stated, "You have been home for 20 consecutive Christmas's, I think one abroad wont be bad." So I upon that reasoning I began to wonder where on Earth would I spend my time during Christmas. Discovering my cousin Cole was alone my father advised it would be best if we hung out together, so I was alone, he was alone, why not both of us usher in the birth of our Savior together; and thus hatched a brilliant plan of spend Christmas in Oxford, England. Boo-Yah!!!

Well it is half way through this experience and so far my debit card has been gobbled up by a ATM deposit box, the weather patterns shifted from cheery to dreary, and I find myself counting the days till I reunite with my family and friends in America having just come down with a serious case of homesickness over the holidays, 15 days and counting down.

But despite all this negativity and longing I have found God's hand to bring through it all. Have found immense provision through transportation. Booking in advance my ticket here to England with no foreknowledge of the weather conditions I left and arrived at the only two Airports in the British Isles that did not experience any trouble from the weather directly, the only delay came from the tardiness of the inbound aircraft and the incompetence of Ryanair in its desperate attempt cut spending by combining the two schedule flights into one plane; 4 passengers never made it to London-Standsted because of them. Never the less God still showed great provision: in the journey here to Oxford, the company provided, and the wonderful accommodations.

I spent Christmas Eve and Day gallivanting with Cole between three Christmas services. Two widely different Anglican and One Catholic Carol mass. The first Anglican was Traditional with full choir and organ scholars, the wife of the Dean of Christchurch, invited us and reserved two of the best seats of in the house. Not being a house but the grandiose interior of Christchurch Church, fabiolously orinmented with rustic wood carvings of angels, stain glass biblical depictions and stone masonry that outstanding. We were invited for after service party at the Dean of Christchurch's home and spoke with a few academia and Cole and I had a bet if the guy with the fancy bling-bling on his neck was Lord Mayor of Oxford. It was, I won. The second was a Charismatic Anglican service where they revamped the classic carols with their worship band, it was a solid rendition of carols and the message of the "Unexpected" of God kept the children amazed and the rest intrigued. Cole being Catholic he was going to attend mass, not knowing what mass was like I accompanied. Being a carol service it was pretty fun, but three services with extensive praise was enough for me, my voice finally tuckered out.

I enjoyed the company of many Jesuits throughout my time here, having spent Christmas day and have a wonderful feast of turkey, ham, bacon wrapped sausages, brusselsprouts, savory puddings, stuffing, parsnips, potatoes, carrots, brandy butter, white and red wine, Christmas pudding(they set it on fire, intentionally, it was awesome and blue), some port, chocolates, and the wombats, the fruit bats, the breakfast cereals. It was a absolute delight. They gave me a gift at the end of the night, because they heard I was coming, I was about to cry at the kindness they gave to me, till I read they addressed it to "Eden 'Cousin of Cole'" It was funny.

Also staying here at the Oxford Chaplaincy has been better than I could expect or hope. Cole and I have many discussions on a variety of topics such as: family history and stories, theological issues and the Church, and fortifying the Chaplaincy against the, hypothetical, epidemic of the Undead. From deep to less deep we have satisfying our needs for talk with peers about wholesome and nerdy talk.

Keep you updated, London on NYE. God bless and keep you my beloved!

Closure

Okay, for the record, I have repeatedly have been attempting to post during November, but the extent and detail at which I write makes it difficult to upload, so I tried a vlog. Blogspot denied it. so Maltese madness will be posted later as apart of a wrap up, Known as "Testimony" a highlight of all the things I have experience and people met. Probably posted in Jan. right before I return to Platteville.

I know I must sound sort of self-centered when I write such a manner, but lest I be mistaken these entries are actually reminders for me, when I am older and my sketchy memory fades. I will allow those to peek into my life with God to see, hear, and hopefully experience him in their own lives.

Now as the semester ends here in Ireland I must prepare for my exams, the results are up to God, but the participation is up to me. God Bless and Keep you, My Beloveds.

quiter...

Sorry Mom, for I have not updated a lot of the happenings for the last, um month but as stated before, their was a lot happening. As it states above, I am a quiter, I have quit the Kid's FunFest drama production and in fact the very Church that would hold it. Now before the dust settles and conclusions on this matter are made I would like to state all facts, as well as my opinion on this matter. The reason for quiting is Not because it landed on the very day that one of my housemates birthday is on, and I was dearly hoping to repay her for her extremely kind gifts on my own 'Surprise' Birthday party; or The fact that committing to such a thing left me drained and consumed great volumes of my time and would leave me unable to travel and enjoy europe while I can; or even a whole host of lesser reasons and in fact I very much did wanted to participate in it and believed that it would be both beneficial for myself as wells as the horde of kids that would gather to redeem the ghoulish night. No, it was none of that, It was simply because of God. The Church that hosts this and has for the last 11 years or so has sadly bought into the 'Health and Wealth' Prosperity Gospel, it wasn't easy to quit or even understand until after the act was done.

I had my suspicions at first that were based off of speculation, but turned to hope until I noticed certain words being used, words that divide up the wholeness of God's character and limit God to being a banker, a 'good' guy that would only want to you to plant seeds of fiscal and medicinal prosperity and will only deliver on those promises if you have planted seeds. This is not true, God is good, even in the down times and even to a world even when half its populace lives on less than 2 USD a day. God has been good to me and wanted me to sever myself from the lies that only by bringing a massive amount of kids to witness a dramatic presentation of Christ would encourage them to seek salvation, rather then investing in building up people, building up parents who would raise children not to repeat mistakes and be godly. Disciples that make disciples, the true form of reciprocity, its a slow growth that can take time rather than in a flash that would sprout once a year. I am sad to know that that Church is lost in the world definition of Prosperity and they will remain in my prayers.

That was more recent, otherwise I have seen Cliffs of Moher, Kylemore Abbey of Connemara, and Aran Islands; three places that are incredibly blessed with spectacular landscape. Cliffs of Moher are the tallest seashore cliffs in Europe and was thrilling to witness; 'Mi Chicas', Six of their friends, and I all spent an afternoon being talked to a Galway native Ray who for the most part exquisitely drove a coach bus through the car and a half roads of county Clare. Apart for daring to stand on the edge of the cliff, we saw Cow-Sheeps, and Fred flintstones house. It was an enjoyable experience I will cherish. Kylemore abbey was my particular favorite because of its exstensive Victorian-Age Garden, it is a testament to the 90 years of Nun-runned garden stewardship that would rival some of the best Ecological feats today, since for the most part it grows the produce to sustain the sisters and the staff and even the tourists and looks spectacular as well as all the species are from the Victorian Era. Aran Islands, if I thought that the mainland had alot of stone, I was dreadfully mistaken, Inis Moer was completely subdivided into paddocks and paddocks of grazeland. I felt overwhelmed at the bleakness of the landscape until I took it all in; the rustling of the seashore and its expansive blueness gave alot to what i would have considered, strictly 'big sky country'.

I would have considered the morning that I would have arrived on Inis Moer possibly the most lonely part of my trip since the first week in Ireland. That morning I demanded my roomates friends to leave the house at 4 in the morning, I was offended because I explained to them earlier, I had to go to bed and awake early. It all began when I realised I had to leave at 7 a.m. and let them know, the agreed that they understood, but too early in the morning I arrose to hear a particularly expressive conversation in spainish taking place in the house. I could of sworn in the seconds upon my awakening that the 6 of them were set up around me speaking back in forth; but to my surprise and frustrated dismay It came from the kitchen and I didn't hear it from the door as usual, but from the floor. In my stupper I rose up and slammed my heel, twice, on the floor beneath me, a hush swept through the room below me. Well to no avail the conversation, hesistantly, resumed and I felt now the will and desire to let them know how much they did not understand me when I calmly asked the before. I had to return and demand them to leave after first telling them that I said, ''don't bring the party home.'' They were not that happy and I was not that considerate; Now, by all intents and purposes they were not at all drunk, buzzed prehaps and this only dawned on me when the began to rebuke my actions. Now I was fully with in my residences' right to demand their friends to leave, I understand this, I also understand that their definition of party does not include a friendly sober chat in the middle of the night. However I do admit the things I said to promote their friends to leave disrespected and even insulted to them, this was the problem. After returning to my room in hopes of cooling down I found myself in constant contemplation, it didn't immediately dawn on me, but eventually and thankfully it did. Reconcilliation is a prime theme through out the Bible and if the division was not because of His sake, Jesus demands that we be the first to mend things. So I thought back on what was said and took a sheet of A6 paper and began write a letter of reconcilliation to 'Mi Chicas', if at this point was very doubtful they would ever desire me to say that again. The next morning I left it on the clear table in the kitchen, I wasn't going to wake them up for that would only recipricate the offense delivered to me. I left and that morning felt one of the most loneliest, ever.

However, that was not God's plan. He found me traveling companions that would inspire me to snap out of my world of solitude and engage in some of the most humbling, encouraging, and enlightening conversations I have yet had with almost everyone I met along the way that was not quadra-ped and didn't meow, bark, or moo; however, I am not ruling out birds, Jk. On the Aran Islands I met: a group of Italians led by a sqeeky voiced Irish lass from donegal, an Israeli on a post-graduation and military two month abroad experience (her name was Denny, no joke), and two W.O.O.F.ers(Working On Organic Farms) from the States on a vacations, not to mention numerous canines that include: Uki of Kilronan, The border collie I deemed Connie from Inis Oirr(pronounced Inish Sheer), Isabella Glockenspeils' doppleganger, and Samuel Allyn Matsons' Double. Not to mention I had acquired the taste of a fabulous creamy chowder from what I only can remember as 'The Bayview restraunt'?

Anyways, Blackberries, no this is not as tangental or random as you may expect now; in fact it is a humorous story in itself. Apparently after September the extremely prolific blackberry bushes on all 3 islands start producing bushels and bushels of beautiful fruit;

''This is a problem said to me one of the Islands residents,'' I asked ''why?''

''Well we have all this ripe fruit and no one to sell it to.'' ''Okay?'' I returned,

''Well if we leave the fruit on the vines the birds will eat it and be as big of a problem as the berries thorns are now, but if we pick most of the fruit and make jellies and jams from it then we are stuck with all of it and have no one to sell it to.''

Again the point failed me until the last part. ''Well if everyone has an excess of Jam all across the Island then people will be visiting each other trying to pass off jars of Blackberry Jam to each other.''

''Oh so like a White elephant.'' I answered. ''Yes! Exactly and we will all be sick of blackberry jam and we will still have the same next year.''

I couldn't help but laugh in front of them, they understood the ridicolusness of their complaints but it warrented a good laugh. Sadly I never even got one jar of the jam because I left that very same day, I arrived a little bit late to the shores of Inis Oirr but with the forknowning of the blackberries I forsook stopping to eat with my settling in and went on to see what I could, however I made a mistake in the choice of roads and ended up circumventing a small lake on the small Island but landed me next to bushes and bushes of ripe blackberries. I must of had two of my five daily servings before arriving at the beached fishing vessel. I took a few photos and a look inside, then turned back in the hopes of seeing the two watch towers on the Island before night fell completely. On my way back I witnessed a spectical I thought would only have been found in the clever noveltry of Twain or the 'country' places of `Sconsin; a little girl peered from a toddler seated in the cab of a red deisel tractor with her father on the helm and her mother standing up fully all inside of this said cab. I couldn't help but laugh and continue after them. They stopped and gave me directions I need and to my surprise they were Yanks as well, however time was a wastin' and I had me some castle towers to see.

Thats we I met my dear, my darling one, Connie the Collie of Inis Oirr. When I first set eyes on her it seemed she was in a preditory crouch in a backyard with tall grass, watching me pass. having earlier met an unwelcoming double of Sam who I rebuked in the name of Christ, as he bore teeth within a foot of my leg as I stood still on my bike before and calling on the name of the lord to send him home, he turned about and quitly retreated, Thank God. So that left me with suspicions of her, and as I hastefully made my way to the first of two towers I noticed a gate that might be well for me to close. I forgot, and only remember when I was walking on the lawn half way between the castle and the gate that a black and white fury head was popping around the corner with intrigue. Not sure what to expect, I enter the hollowed tower and took photos of the interior, she stopped at the enterances and remained vigilent of my activities, thrown off by the sudden bursts of light in the darkening landscape. As I left the tower with caution I had found she had lain quitly on the yard and was not planing to budge, until I approached her and she insisted on keeping a bubble of space between us; then I felt at ease, she was no more scarier to me than I was to her and if I was attempting to protray myself as frightening she was utterly unimpressed.

We did not make first contact until I began to lowered myself down the rock wall into a pastuere below, I hid against the wall waiting for her to peer over the edge. She did and I stuck my hand up to scratch behind the ear, and instead of withdrawning or snapping of any kind she allowed me to give her a good scratch. However fatigue and the growning shadows made us part from the bliss formed between man and best friend as I had to continue down through some more paddocks and up the other hill to see the next tower and the house next to it. I slowed my descent best I could when running down the hill and looked back to see her faithfully watching over me, but she wasn't, she wasn't there at all and in fact I couldn't see at all where she was. So with out much care at all I went forward and stopped to see another border collie infront of me, ''ohh great.'' I exclaimed, but felt dismay at the potential hazard of another unfamiliar dog. Then I decided to take a quick review to find that the 'new' dog was infact the very same one and had gone ahead of me on another path of descent I did not see. I continued in the dimming light and agian she reappeared instanly infront of me so with a little bit of exasperation I said, ''If you know this place so well why don't you lead?'' That was a stupid question, for infact this whole time 'the shepard' dog was leading me and continued in front of me leading me away from my orginal path that would be laborious to an ease that was both fun and adventureous. Now if that wasn't a mirror image of a walk with Christ I am not certain than what is; any who I grew fonder of my new friend who delightfully lead me along. Now we saw, took pictures but it was time for me to go back, I had to meet a ferrie early in the morning and was starving. So after deeming her Connie, the Collie of Inis Oirr, I sang as much as I remember of 'Pretty Irish Girl' and began back. She accompanied me part of the way till she was driven away by the scent of another dogs markings and then disappeared into the night; but when I walked into the familar part of town and waiting for me outside the pub was the very same dog who had accompanied me from the ferry to that point, none other than Isabella Glockenspeil Mills' Doppleganger and he delightfully escorted me home.

On the way back to the hostel, I overheard muttering of two gets from a near by pub, one of them with a hushed voiced said,''He's a local.'' I was delighted to hear that, my woolen cap and red great big bushy beard won their hearts and minds or several pints of guiness and the darkness mistakened them, ohh well it was cool anyways. The ferry was the same on the way back and the bus was filled with only one recognisable face, a bicycle mechanic from Raliegh NC named Michael, I shared a room with him in the hostel in Kilronan and we spoke on the way back.

When I finally arrived home, I walked inside and spoke exactly what was expected of me each time they where home too. ''Hola Mi Chicas.'' a pause, ''Hola Eden!'' Three distinct voices returned. God had worked a might miracle, where once discomfort and division reigned peace had come, God brought peace to the house and we were, under more reasonable circumstances discussed our differences; we established and reestablished boundries that would work for all four of us and I pray now that it will last.

God Bless and Keep you all! Love Eden.

Feel abit...... Impish?

Okay, This year at Halloween may very well bring the little Devil out of me. Do not be alarmed, this is not for the sake of vandalism or evil schemes against man. In all truth it is for the progression of God's Kingdom. As ridiculous as that sounds I have audition for a part in a dramatization about salvation for Kid's Funfest a local Galway Church has held it for the last 11 years and this year they were particular short on male actors. Now I may or may not be an Imp, in fact I very well be a swashbuckling pirate or handsome cheesy Hero. Now I know they have some more experienced male actors that are Ideal for those leads so I will be blessed to have just participate.

In other news class has officially begun today, September 20th, My birthday and we began to read two pages thick with Legal Jargon. Since I have arrived in Ireland I have taken much notice to the wonderful street musicians that sometimes line the street to express their talents for only pennies at time. I have also found beautiful murals that are paint on walls that are scattered through out the city, I almost thought one was real when I saw it. It was a mural of a street musician on the outer wall of a Pharmacy. Their is much to enjoy here, but you can see the stress on the peoples faces as Ireland's economy limps along, now more than ever do people need a message of hope. I ask that you can keep the people here in your prayers, and I will do my best to seize every opportunity that God gives me to speak the Gospel here.

My house.

Kindred Spirit or Kindred in Spirit?

As I recollect on the past week, I remember many things. One of which stood out to me, it was Wednesday night at St. Catherine's Hospital Chapel where Church of the Redeemer Midwest Campus held their mid-week service and prayer and I had to the opportunity to be prayed for by the congregation. Naturally with the departure date closing in I asked for prayer about friends and family and of course Ireland. The Pastors wife delighted not only prayed for my safety but also "a Kindred Spirit." I immediately felt grateful, I mean safety is something to you definately want to be insured about but to bid God to mean enough to someone, I have not even met yet, to be considered their friend. This is like meeting Jesus all over again, so needless to say I am excited to meet this mystery amigo whomever she or he maybe. I hope that if this individual or individuals have not heard or honor Jesus then maybe I will be their to witness a heart transformed from stone. Then we will not only be kindred spirits but also Kindred in Spirit. ahh ahh get it!? thats how it all ties in full circle.

God Willing

"God Willing" these two words describe at whose Grace I am even able to think that a young man from Southeast Wisconsin with curly "Irish Gold" hair (my personal hair colour.) could ever set foot upon the land where some of his ancestors lived. This exciting trek back to Ireland has preoccupied mind for the last few semesters and is quickly coming within reach. As I understand this window of opportunity has been flung open and through all the hoops and 'official documents' God's grace has been immediate and abundant, I am Blessed to be able to roam the globe among the nations. My expectations for this semester "Exchanged" are uncertain, but God is good so my fears are low and my hopes are high. I know what I would like to do but that is not always His plan, so join me in seeing what can be accomplished, enjoyed, and shenanagined in Ireland. Also Thank you Father in Heaven for the Earthly Fathers we are so grateful to have guiding us, gaurding us, and for a few raising up to Glorify You. Thank You God for all you do! Ahmen.