Beginnings

Many tall, thick days have passed since arriving November 3rd. Already, I am more and less of myself than ever before. Situated behind bars, barbed wire windows, and a thirty foot peace wall I am free, free to explore and become who I am meant to be. This place is perfect for me. There is a spark to this group, an aroma of honesty and unabated life. From Sri Lanka, Palestine, USA, Canada, Ireland, Northern Ireland, South Africa, and Holland, these strangers have become my patchwork family. On the surface one could say we hardly know each other, yet something is at work within us, the joining of roots under the surface.

We have messy little routines each day: start the shower rota at 630 am, catch the toilet seat before it slaps you on the back (permanently broken), enjoy your 15 minutes of shower solitude, shuffle around the 3 people in your room to dress, 20 minutes of hustling down the Shankill over rubbish strew streets, wave to the mural of the Queen Mum looking like a Muppet, arrive at St. Michaels Church for lectures. Proceed to huddle around the two functioning heaters, hold tea mugs for warmth, laugh hysterically and think provocatively about faith and violence and hope until 2. Then scatter for respective chores, errands, and meanderings gathering back at our house by 6. For 6 is dinner and only the quick get to sit on couches, the rest on the floor. Continue to laugh until it's your time to wash the dishes. Then you feel overwhelmed by the amassing dishes in our pantry sized kitchen, proceed to laugh, wash, rejoin the group, and account the tales of the day. Also it is a necessity to find time during the week to eat potatoes 4 times and get rained on 6 times, absolutely.

Yes there is indeed something at work in our leaning houses. Perhaps if you looked at it from above you'd think we throw pixie dust against the walls, as there is a glow amidst a general gloom in the neighborhood. Which is exactly the point. West Belfast is a blighted community; forgotten by the momentum of development and prosperity, left as a functioning though severed limb. And we are there in our imperfect, small way to say no, you will not be forgotten, it does not have to be like this. It is a post war community, stunted by generations of trauma and disenfranchisement, living in a period of tolerance for the "other side." But YWAM Belfast has the vision to move beyond just tolerance to interdependence and reconciliation. And a vision to do this with respect not condescension, dignity not pity, and listening not imposition. For that I am so proud to be here.