Holly's Blarney

Never in America...

Today is voting day in Ireland. The system is very different. Some of the difference I don’t fully understand and some I think are really great. One of the things I don’t understand when they decide to dissolve the government and vote for a new one. One Sunday Bertie Ahern announces the government would dissolve and with minutes parties were posting posters all over the streets. It was announced roughly a month back and they are voting already. One of the things that I think is really neat is how the politicians get out and meet the people. They go door to door, neighborhood to neighborhood, knocking on doors, passing out flyers, and answering questions. But what threw it over the top for me was when the church I now attend, Dublin West Community Church, announced that they would be having a night with the politicians. Last Thursday night a load of people showed up at the house of one the church leaders and the politicians from each party came to speak. I mean the people on the posters, the people canvassing the neighborhoods, came to share their views on the issues at hand and how they thought their party would solve them! This would NEVER happen in America. John Glenn never showed up at my door when he was running for the Senate when I was a kid. I think this goes to show how Ireland is built on relationships. Ireland is built on knowing your neighbors and the lady who checks you at the grocery store. Even though I can’t vote, they allowed me to sit in the back as long as I didn’t say anything. I sat in awe of it all!

Brokenness

You can't avoid it here.  You can't miss the mess and debate.  Every newspaper and news-station is headlining the latest details.  Duke Lacrosse Team allegedly rapes a stripper.  Two young men were charged last week with 1st degree rape charges.  Everyone has an opinion down here.  The trial is close at heart in this community where it thrives on it's being difference and independent from the rest of the typical south. 

I can't form a opinion because all I see is the brokenness.  Every time I think about it my heart breaks.  I think of this lady who sells her body for the pleasure of strange men and tears come to my eyes.  I wondered what brought her to that place.  I think of these young men who's view of women and what our bodies are to be used for and how their warped ideals are so common place now.   I see the house where it allegedly took place almost everyday and I wonder who is speaking love on Buchanan Street.  My heart is broken for all involved and I pray that the truth is revealed.

My dad ended up in the court case during the charges last week.  Dad was at the court house trying to help out our neighbors, when a rush of people came flooding in at 6 am.  Dad saw the two Lacrosse players being ushered into a room and so he followed the reporters (he also follows firetrucks and police cars).  Dad sat down right behind the accused.  As they waited for the judge to arrive, my dad leaned forward and began speaking to one young man and his father.  Dad said the fathers face was screaming pain and brokenness.  My dad asked the father and son if he could pray with them.  The father looked relieved and with tears in his eyes said "yes, please".  Before my dad utter "Dear Heavenly Father," the attorney appeared and stopped the interaction. 

Brokenness is everywhere.  Some broken hearts are just easier to see then others. Either way, we all need the relevant truth.  We all need to be reminded that Jesus's love is reaching out to us.