I experienced something crucial about Irish life while on the Hill of Tara. It is wet in Ireland.  Everywhere.  I waterproofed my tennis shoes before I left California, but that was a joke.  I needed a serious upgrade or I was destined to have soggy feet the whole trip.  Neither my feet nor I were excited about that idea.

So, our first goal the next morning was to find a store where I could get some REAL waterproof shoes or galoshes or waders, or a rubber suit. Whatever worked.  We found a bona fide sports store, and lo and behold, they had some uber sporty, Gortex infused, “keep your feet dry in a deluge”, hiking shoes.  They even had them in my size.  The shoes were accompanied by an uber sporty, health nut, sickeningly fit salesman who promptly wandered off with Joanna to talk about all the crazed outdoor things one could do in Ireland.  They pulled out some maps and started whispering and looking over at me every so often.  I heard something about “Devil’s Ladder” and “this one is a challenge”, which is the serious hiker’s code language for “this one will kill the tourist”.  I decided it was high time to buy my shoes and get out of there.  I managed to disentangle Joanna and we made it safely back to the car and on the road again.

We were bound for the Hill of Uisneach.  It is supposedly the spiritual and mythological center of Ireland.  One website even described it as the place where all the ley lines in Ireland intersect.  This was one loaded hill!  I won’t say loaded with what … but remember we were treasure hunters and we knew Who was there first.

We got there without incident – and no detours to Devil’s Ladder – but we couldn’t get in. Come to find out, you had to have a special tour or come at certain times of the week when the field was open.  Turns out that someone actually farmed the field.  Who knew.  Well, so much for the plan.  Which only goes to prove that you never know when God is going to plan circles around you.

So, we sat there in the little driveway to figure out what to do next. I asked what would be right for the day.  Joanna pulled out the tour books and maps and started looking at the surrounding area.  I kept asking what was right for the day.  She told me to relax and let God be God and we’ll find something.  So, I relaxed and sent Serina a picture of my new shoes.   Which only goes to prove that God doesn’t need us to be sharp as tack to get us where He wants us to go.

Then Joanna said that a place called Belvedere Gardens looked interesting. I was a little skeptical at first.  It was too touristy.  God wouldn’t show up there, would He?  Then Joanna mentioned Narnia.  For real.  NARNIA.  It was in their description in the tour book!  Well, for goodness sakes.  I was sold.  Which only goes to prove that God can show up anywhere He dang well pleases.

To the garden we went.

There were several different paths you could take through the gardens and forested areas, so we decided to go our separate ways. Joanna was going to drift and take pictures, and I was going to drift and try NOT to think about what was right for the day and just let God take me there.  And boy, did He.

I will never forget that spot in the forest where He validated His design of me and anchored it at a depth that will never be shaken. The phrase He gave me was about Narnia!  Only God.  Only God could know me that well and could arrange something so powerful in spite of me.  After I cried for a while in the forest, I wandered out into the field and cried some more.  And then it started to rain.  Did I mention that it rains a lot in Ireland?  It was a beautiful rain, like the sky was feeling the same joy I was.  I remember standing with my arms out and my face upturned to the raindrops, absorbing the splendor of the moment when the thought intruded into my mind, “Hey! My feet are staying dry!”  Which only goes to prove that God takes care of the little things too.

Eventually I gathered what was left of myself and wandered back into the forest and followed the trails as they meandered back to the café and visitor’s center. I met up with Joanna and we sat down in the café.  I had something to eat and then asked if Joanna would mind if I wrote a few things down.  I meant to write a highlight or two, but it turned into a few pages.  Joanna wandered off.  Eventually the flow stopped and I went to find her, since I had a vague feeling that we should head in the direction of our next B&B.  I was so blitzed.

Which only goes to prove that you should never let the Mercy drive.