I went to church this morning. This was my last Sunday at Dundalk Community Church. The church that I’ve been a part of for the past five weeks. The church that worked with me, fed me, and loved me. The church that I have loved so dearly.
I got up on stage with my team by my side and said goodbye and thank you to all the wonderful people sitting in front of me. If I had been the type of person that cried, I would have. I still have a headache from not crying.
The personal goodbyes were the worst. I hugged those lovely people and I held back tears. I took pictures that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life. I kissed children that I know are going to grow up to be amazing people. My heart aches.
Now that I'm all packed and the apartment is all clean, I think about the day I got here to Ireland. It was two in the morning and all I could think about was sleep. The next day, all I wanted was sleep. As the trip progressed, I wanted less sleep and more time to spend with the people that have invested so much into us. Now that I'm not going to see them, all I want is more time.
When I first heard and started telling everyone that I was going to Ireland, I got so many questions. "Why are you going to Ireland? They have money and material possessions. They don't need your help." I still don't know whether they needed me or not, but I needed them. So often you go on one of these trips and all you think about is your impact, but now all that matters to me is the impact that the people of Dundalk Community Church have had on me. I didn't expect to be this terrified of leaving, but I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way.