On the pebbly beach of Greystones, I sit and stare out at the Irish sea. I watch. I listen. I read. I pray. I think about my life, about the future. I watch the sunrise. I take photographs. I people watch. I bird watch. I listen to bagpipers. I try to figure out my life: where I'm going, and what I'm doing.

I've only been to Greystones once, and it was for only a week. Yet it remains one the of most beautiful, tranquil places I've ever been. I've been to lots of beaches--sometimes to swim, get sun, play in the sand, or just relax. But I was in Greystones for something else: direction.

I spent the week there praying for Ireland, it's people, and the missionaries there. But I also prayed about whether I should return, to be a part of the work I was praying about. My last night on the beach at Greystones, I thought I heard the answer: Yes.

It's been almost two years since that night, and I'm still in the U.S. I'm still trying to figure out my "next steps." Story of my life. But it's amazing to me how much I still think about Ireland. Just today I had a conversation about it with a kid I work with. It's never far from my mind.

I don't know if I'll ever get back to that gravelly, lovely beach, but I hope so.