Wow. It’s so scary when you know that you are only to stay in a place for a short while but the love for it creeps in you anyways…
Though Ireland doesn’t feel any warmer than Sweden temperature-wise, the warmth of the Irish folk covers that up pretty well. But the thing is, we are not just hanging out with saints who have been sanctified by Jesus but naughty teenagers who are bored and messed up.
For three days in a row now, those young fellows would see the Big Red Bus from afar, come close and hop in, most times eagerly. Several of them might be here for the free tea and coffee, but just a place to stay is the major key. Once they get nice seats to sit, they fool around with each other and, for better or worse, joke with us altogether.
Their parents don't care about them, otherwise family outings would have brought them out of here. The teachers don’t like them, said one boy who seems to not care. The pubs don’t welcome them because they’ve got no money and are under aged. Like what you would read from the Bible, when most of the pedestrians walk pass the bus, uninterested and indifferent, those little ones stick with us, allowing us to approach them with “God or Jesus talks” and not afraid to get involved in big discussions. They roll cigarettes as they actually talk and listen.
Yesterday they were even asking, “Are you virgins?” Very proudly we answered, “YES!”
They get softer and smile bigger each time. They now see some of us as friends, and hopefully friends-forever since the local believers will stay on anyways. God deserves millions of thanks for this divine encounter, all on a bus parked in the middle of the town.
It feels so warm right here.