2024
Northern Ireland – Spring Break – Reflections
By Hanna Saveraid
After many hours of travel, 16 LCMers, one staff member, and one pastor arrived at Dublin Airport only to encounter our first challenge of the trip: finding our bus driver. Luckily, after only a few minutes and frantic phone calls we located Nigel, a cheery yet taciturn local who ended up driving us around for the week and teaching us Irish sayings.
We spent the week at Corrymeela Retreat Center, a beautiful building situated on the ocean. Corrymeela is the center of decades of passionate work to explore community, peacebuilding, and identity. Our hosts encouraged using games and practice scenarios to explore conflict. Outside of our sessions we also participated in the daily rhythms of the community. A simple breakfast, then silent worship to start the day; a community dinner full of good conversation, then a worship to end the day in the echoey Croi (the sanctuary).
Getting to know the year long volunteers was a highlight. Several volunteers even led some of us on a cold plunge in the ocean one chilly (42 F) morning. The water was freezing but invigorating. The volunteers seemed to enjoy the enthusiasm and welcome that LCMers always bring along with them. The LCMers who signed up for this trip were particularly willing to jump in, even though for many this trip was their first to Europe.
Midway through the week, we took a trip to Derry/Londonderry, Ireland which was one of the more poignant moments of the trip. Derry is a walled city built by English settlers in the 1600s and more recently was an epicenter of the “Troubles” in the 1970s-1990s. We visited the Free Derry Museum in Derry, which tells the story of civilian victims killed by British soldiers on “Bloody Sunday.” I found myself taken aback by the divide between Protestants/Unionists and Catholic/Nationalists that could still be felt in Northern Ireland. We found ourselves facing a living history of sectarian violence as many of the people we learned from had lost family members and chose to relive those traumatic experiences to teach others the importance of remembrance and working together. While outright violence has mostly dissipated following the 1998 Good Friday Agreement and the tireless activism of peace builders like those at Corrymeela, these cultural-political divides still impact everyday life. Neighborhoods and schools are largely segregated between Catholic and Protestant, still making the “other” a foreign entity.
While not exactly the same, our communities at home in Minnesota also feel starkly divided along political and cultural lines. This divide often feels hopeless. We learned from our generous Corrymeela hosts that peace or resolution takes time and may not ever be “complete.” When our history – recent and long ago – has taught us division, we have to keep returning to the table again and again to have difficult conversations. The conversations I had with old and new friends from LCM in Northern Ireland make me hopeful for the future and every community that LCMers will enter. This community collects people who act with grace and thoughtfulness, qualities that are needed in every place of discord.
2024
Clare’s Story of Joy
I don’t think anyone will disagree when I say Joy is found in the little things in life. It is witnessing the golden sun setting in a parking lot after a long day. It is receiving a kiss on the cheek from my dad while we cook dinner. It is singing my favorite song in the car on the way to see my favorite people.
This is obvious to me now, but it wasn’t always so clear. I was very ambitious when I was young, and I put a lot of pressure on myself to do well in school. I was adamant that I would get a PhD in astrophysics from Yale one day, and that required me to put my head down in my studies today and every day until then. My daily schedule was school, a few hours of extracurriculars, dinner, homework, sleep. As much as I thought I was having fun, because there are many fond memories, this lifestyle did not make me Joyful. But then my time in high school was very abruptly cut short by Covid-19.
As with everyone, this was not a Joyful time, but a long and hollow time. For the first time since I was a child, no one expected anything of me for hours at a time, something I acknowledge was a privilege, but I spent much of that time wandering my neighborhood searching for something to do. There was much to grieve in that space, and I painfully learned how precious those little Joys really were, because they certainly weren’t promised to me. Still, even in those lonely times, I still watched the sun set, I still cooked dinner with my dad, and I still sang in the car. They were just a little bit harder to appreciate, but it was through those Joys that I was able to piece some semblance of who I was without all the expectations.
I did not grow up religious, nor did anyone in my family and I’m still not fully comfortable talking about God and Jesus in such big and grand terms in my own life. However, I have come to feel that these little Joys is God speaking to me. Mostly, His message is to slow down, to savor the life I’ve been given, even when it’s inconvenient or uncomfortable. Sometimes, those moments remind me of those who cannot afford to savor it, at least not for very long, for those who must keep working to eat, or for those who have lost so much that savoring feels impossible.
When I think about my mission or calling, I almost always come back to this – Joy. In my own life, I have let go of many of my prescribed ambitions of success and have instead been taking things one step at a time, keeping these little Joys in mind. But God calls me to go further than that, to bring Joy to those around me, either by sharing in celebration or by providing relief from burdens.
At the end of the day, I think that’s why I keep coming back to LCM despite my background. This community of people has helped connect this calling of mine into a tangible life purpose by bringing Joy to everyone we can, through kindness, service, and love. I may not be able to say much about God’s purpose for us on earth, but I hope that everyone may stop and enjoy the sunset every once and awhile.