Incurable Pluviophilia

It’s the one thing I miss when I’m away from Ireland. As much as I love the sunshiny heat that soaks into your bones overseas, when I come home I can’t wait for the rain. Continue reading

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The Gift of the Lament

Tonight one neuron collided with another in my brain opening up a couple of old wounds plus one or two new ones all clamouring for attention. Thankful for an empty house, I put my current favourite lament song on repeat and took some time to grieve.

As a Mercy-oriented person, worship is one place where I am free to fully unpack all of the feelings I haven’t had time to deal with and bring them to my Father in their raw, unfiltered glory. In coming undone before Him, He somehow brings all the pieces together to form a new composition.

I wonder why modern worship music shies away from laments. Continue reading

What’s the Story? Coffee at No. 115

I am no coffee snob. I don’t turn my nose up at instant coffee. Arguments over Starbucks versus Costa versus hipster little one-off shops are lost on me. Don’t get me wrong- I like a gorgeous freshly-ground coffee but more than that I love a good story.

It is the story of my friend sourcing farmers in her homeland to import coffee to London and start her own cafe in Fulham that inspires me to support her venture.

It is the story of a similar project in Ethiopia that produces 500g bags of coffee (beans/ground) for €20 here- with €16 of that €20 staying in Ethiopia- that intrigues me (my brother’s friend bought a bag for each of his family members for Christmas this year).

It is the friendships I get to build with the staff of the coffee shop around the corner from our church that sees me ordering there early on a Sunday morning.

Today, I got to be part of another story when my Mum brought me to 115 Georges Street Lower, Dun Laoghaire.  Continue reading

Let Me Lend You My Roar

The door swung open. I didn’t even realise that I’d found the key.

She sidled up to me at the end of the day and told me how much it had meant to her, that little text message with a scripture verse and a “you can do all the things this week!”

All the weeks I’d been trying to find a connection point with her and in the end it was a tiny, almost throwaway act that forged it. It unlocked her. It unlocked her group of friends, who seemed impenetrable from the outside. Continue reading

The Gift of Irritation

I love comfort. Give me a blanket and a cup of tea and I’ll delight in daydreams for hours. This love of comfort often finds me hoarding good intentions without giving them wings and releasing them. In other words, I get cases of chronic laziness.

Because of this I dislike irritation. Irritation… well… irritation irritates! It’s like the person I cross the road to avoid. In recent months, however, I’ve started to view it as a friend. Continue reading