Email: Bethany Therriault

Dear Friends

It is so hard to believe that I have been here for six months. The time has flown so quickly. Spring is coming to Northern Ireland, or at least daffodils are beginning to bloom, despite the chill wind and the freezing rain. The difficult winter months—difficult because of the weather, because the sun was absent, and mostly because winter is the time when I most questioned my decision to come here, and when I made the decision to stay (I'll be attending Queen's University, Belfast, next year)—are ending. And as the earth warms, the cold places inside me that doubted and wondered and feared are disappearing. One of the events that went a long way towards reassuring me and quieting my doubts was my sister's visit at the end of February.

I was so excited for Renee's visit. For sisters who are very close, six months is a long time to be apart. Our visit was full of laughter and jokes and sisterly chatter. But the unexpected bonus of her time here was that she reminded me so strongly of how I felt when I first arrived.

As we walked into the city centre from my home in East Belfast, she gawked at the murals that cover many of the buildings. She peppered me with questions about the history of Northern Ireland and the Troubles. She asked questions about the Titanic, which was built in a shipyard that I can see from my bedroom window. She asked about King Billy and the Battle of the Somme and the meaning of Ulster. It amazed me how well I could answer some of those questions and how many questions I am still unable to answer. As we walked, I looked again at that murals and memorials that I often don’t notice anymore, even though their content is shocking and initially very frightening. I wondered at the ability of my mind to accept almost casually something that had so disturbed me when I first arrived. Although the reminders of the Troubles still bothers me, I have come to accept them as part of the fabric of the community I now live in.

On her second day in Belfast, I took Renee with me to Youth Fellowship at Garnerville Presbyterian Church, one of the places where I work. While I played games and gave a talk to the young people, she sat, almost completely quiet, watching the scene. At one point, I looked at her and said, "Do you understand a word of what they're saying?" "No," she admitted. It made me laugh, and gave me a perfect image of what I must have looked like to these young people during my first weeks here. Like Renee, I couldn't understand a word of what was said around me, and thus spent a lot of my time simply watching. Whenever someone spoke to me, I would have to ask them to speak slowly and carefully.

On another day I brought Renee to the Link, the community centre where I spend the other half of my time. While Garnerville's young people are often excited and active, they are generally polite and well-mannered. The young people at the Link are often anything but quiet and often forget about politeness. Cursing blisters the air on Tuesday nights, when a large group come to a drop-in evening to play pool and hang out with their friends. The young people peppered Renee with questions about life in the States, about her visit, about me, about just about everything. She struggled to answer, often turning to me to interpret words and phrases that she didn't understand. We didn't stay long because, as one of my coworkers remarked, "She looked completely terrified and overwhelmed." Terrified and overwhelmed are words that I used over and over to describe how I felt when I first began working at the Link in September. Now, though, I look forward to the hours that I spend there. There is so much valuable work to be done there—and so much that is changing and growing. I constantly feel that something exciting is happening.

As I rode the bus back to Belfast from Dublin on Saturday, having left Renee at the airport, I took a moment to thank God for giving me a perfect reminder of how far I have come in the last six months. The enthusiasm and excitement that I had brought from orientation into my first weeks of service buoyed my spirit as I struggled with the language, with the frightening aspects of this place's history, and with the daunting work that I was undertaking. As my enthusiasm began to wane after the holidays and I began to question myself, I struggled to remind myself of the sense of purpose and the strength of the call that I felt when I decided to come here. Now, looking back at how much I have become a part of this community, I feel my enthusiasm for my work returning, enriched by the experiences that I have had and the gifts of friendship and inclusion that I have been given. I am excited to see what is to come over the next six months, and I feel Him calling me onward to what I still have to learn and experience and know.

God bless.