Wow!
That was easy.
I hang up the phone
as I marvel
over the perfection
of God's timing.
Had I not come here
to Limerick
when I did,
and had I not been
ready to go today,
I would have missed
this unscheduled flight.
I would have been
forced to wait
until later in the week
to leave.
The temptation
to go back to
Charlestown
would have been
too strong to resist
for that long.
I've played enough
useless heart games
already.
I check my watch.
9:06 a.m.
I look out the window
to see a sunny
Monday morn.
My plane doesn't leave
until 1:15,
so I might as well
go over to the park
and finish reading
The Pilgrim's Regress
before I catch a bus.
I take the stairs
two at a time
as I rush up
to grab my pack
and leave.
-------
I close the book
in astonishment
as I finish the last page.
It really is uncanny
how much this tale
has mirrored my own.
I am John
and Ireland
is the Island
I set out to find.
Yet, here I am,
standing on that Island,
only to find that
the deep longing of my heart
is still unfulfilled.
Like John,
I was trying to fill
that longing
with things of this world.
Hasn't this always
been the case?
Alcohol, Shelley, Ireland...
How clear it is now
that each time,
I was only putting a mask
on the desire for God.
When at last I had attained
that which I sought after,
I only found
that same old disappointment.
Still,
the desire was there.
The void
that God has placed
in each of our hearts
can only be filled by Him.
How easy it is
to forget
this simple truth.
So often,
I cast about
for this thing or that,
trying to satisfy
that deep longing.
It is the same
as trying to fill
the Grand Canyon
one grain of sand
at a time.
Vanity of vanities,
all is vanity.
How many times
must I learn this lesson
before I can remember
to cry out as Augustine,
"Our hearts are restless,
O God,
and they will not rest
until they rest in You"?
Hmm.
How is it
that I allowed
Ireland
to mask my desire
for You, Lord?
Of course.
I was looking
for Heaven on Earth.
All along,
I have been a pilgrim
in search of the obvious:
namely, that there is
no such thing.
I came here looking
for the perfect utopia,
only to find
that Ireland
is essentially no different
than any other place.
Just as the old folks say:
one place really is
as good as another.
Now that I think of it,
my favorite place
was Charlestown.
This should have been
a clue.
Though it was not
the most beautiful place
in Ireland,
it was there
that I felt the closest
to that fulfillment.
Obviously,
it had nothing to do
with location.
It was the people.
This makes so much sense.
The Earth is only matter
and has no quality
of the eternal about it.
It will pass away
in the consummation of time,
when there will be new heavens
and a new earth.
When we are with people,
however,
we come into contact
with eternal souls
that will not pass away.
Our hearts long for God.
Conversing with eternal souls
brings us into contact
with the image and likeness
of that One Whom we desire.
While the land,
and the many splendors
of creation
proclaim the mystery of God
and tell us about Him,
these things do not
bring us into contact
with Him
in the way that
eternal souls do.
Perhaps this is why
it is so easy
to make idols
out of other people.
Perhaps this is why
we can sometimes
foolishly believe
that some person
will make us happy
and be our true fulfillment.
Surely, love of others
brings us closer to God,
but only God
can fill our aching hearts.
Too late have I loved Thee,
Oh Lord,
and how wrongly
I have loved others.
Purify my love,
that I may love them
as You love them,
and never seek another's love
in place of Yours.
Putting all this together,
though, I realize that
it's not so much
where I go
that matters,
but who's waiting for me
when I get there.
And, ultimately,
He is waiting for me
everywhere,
so everywhere is home.
As much of a home
as one can have
in this life, anyway.
Wow.
How I thank You, Lord,
for having brought me here
to teach me
these profound lessons.
Thank You for bringing me
out of the familiar surroundings
in which I had wrapped
my identity,
so that I could begin
to discover
who I truly am
and who
You want me to be.
At last,
my journey
is complete.
And, yet,
it has only begun.
I look up
from my reverie
to see several beams
of sunlight shining through
the branches of an oak
onto the thick carpet
of green grass
covering this park.
Cotton clouds
drift across the
blue clear sky.
For a moment,
it is hard to distinguish
the season.
Were it not for
the calendar,
I would be unable to tell
whether it were a lovely day
in Fall or Spring.
It is like an embodiment
of the Christian mystery.
It is the death
and the resurrection
all in one,
so closely entwined
that one can not
be distinguished
from the other.
As is much of
the Christian life.
I lean back
on the bench,
spread my arms out
across
the top beam,
and tilt my head back
to enjoy
the gentle breeze.
-------
I stand up
as I hear
the stewardess
call for boarding.
I look through
the large windows
all around the terminal
to scan the horizon
and take in one last image
of the Irish landscape.
I haven't even been here
for two weeks,
yet it seems like
so long a time
as I think back over
my journey.
How much I've seen.
How much I've learned.
As I look at the plane,
I can almost hear
those same words
that St. Patrick heard
so long ago
in this same land:
"Your hungers
are rewarded,
you are going home.
Look,
your ship is ready."
I pick up my bag,
and head for
the boarding gate,
resisting the temptation
to look back.