Merry Christmas to Everyone!

November has been an eventful month. I stayed up late to watch the election, celebrated my birthday with friends and co-workers, and then got up early the next morning for my first rowing race on the Lagan River, and a few weeks later I witnessed my first Belfast snowfall. On Thanksgiving, I was actually making tea for 50 at a community lunch. Some co-workers were a bit skeptical about my abilities to make a good cup of tea, but at the end of the lunch, it was agreed by all parties, even the little old ladies, that I had passed the test.

I want to tell two stories this month. One is about my birthday which was November 12th. I didn't expect too much of a celebration on my birthday and was therefore shocked at how many people remembered. Really, all I was banking on was a call from my parents and the Ashbaugh tradition of birthday pancakes for breakfast, which I was going to make myself. However, I got tons of letters from people from my home church in Claremore, there was a mini-party for me at the community centre I work in on Fridays, my minister took me out for lunch, my associate minister had a cake for me, and every youth group I worked with sang Happy Birthday and gave me three cheers, and the list goes on and on. I was taken aback by everyone's thoughtfulness. There seemed to be awareness that it might be difficult to spend a birthday so far from home and so many people on both sides of the Atlantic took measures to let me know how much they cared for me by celebrating my birthday. And as I have thought about my birthday, what seemed like it was going to be an ordinary day was actually a day when I realized how well I am being taken care of by my church and by the community. And being on the receiving end of so much attention, I now realize the importance of reaching out to strangers. I am coming to understand that it is good to be a foreigner and take on the role of visitor to a country because it has made me understand how God asks us to treat foreigners.

The other story is what happened several weeks ago at the after school pool club. The pool club went great and I had remembered everyone's names and even played a bit of pool and kicked the football with several boys. After the club ended, I was at home reflecting on how well everything had gone when I heard voices of a scuffle coming from the alley. I was debating going outside, but I wasn't sure what to say or do and I wasn't sure that it was my responsibility to do anything at all. It took a while to decipher the pre-pubescent squealing, but eventually I figured out that these were the boys from the pool club. So I dashed outside, without my coat or locking the door and, sure enough, there were all those faces I had just recently matched with names. And I said the first thing that came to mind: "stop fighting and go home!" It wasn't exactly a crowd pleaser, but eventually they did leave, maybe to go home. And as I went back inside, I thought, "What did I just do?" I've tried to figure out if I did the right thing and what I should do if it happens again. I've decided that there is no perfect answer to a scuffle outside your window; you just do the best you can. God did not send me to Northern Ireland to solve the problem of why boys fight, and anyone who does solve that problem deserves a Nobel Peace Prize. But rather, I was called here to live in community with the boys of the pool club and that means that I was not off-duty when the scuffle began.

Well, that was November. Christmas is right around the corner. It is doubtful that Belfast will manage a White Christmas, but I'm still hoping.

Peace,
Jen Ashbaugh
Young Adult Volunteer, Northern Ireland