Vocation: The place God calls you to where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.

by Mary Elizabeth Prentice

I believe had it not been for the Young Adult Volunteer Program I would not be where I am today. During 2003 I was searching for where my true calling lay, in August I decided to apply to the program and nervously began planning on changing my entire environment for an academic year.  My other great passion, aside from helping people in a medical setting, was working with youth groups.  For years my summers were planned around when I could be a small group leader at Mo Ranch Conference Center in Hunt, Texas.  I wanted to find a program that would allow me to go overseas and work with young people.  I had not had the opportunity to study abroad in college and craved an international experience.  I wanted the program to be an established program and where I knew I was wanted and welcomed into the communities midst.  I found the Young Adult Volunteer Program through the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).

By April 2004, I had been through the application process, the phone interview, and the discernment event and I finally found out where I was headed four short months later.  I was placed, along with five other young adults in Belfast, Northern Ireland.  My specific assignment did not come until mid-summer when I learned I would be working at The Link Family and Community Centre in the predominantly Loyalist (Protestant) town of Newtownards.  On August 23, 2004, I boarded a plane bound for Chicago and met with other young adults from around the nation for 10 days of orientation.  In those ten days friendships were formed that I still maintain today.  I also learned that over 60% of volunteers go on to pursue seminary educations, but on August 31, 2004, I thought not of seminary, but of the life-changing year ahead of me in Belfast.

Mary Elizabeth directing the FACE (Family Art Community Expression) Art Project, an art initiative for young people to express themselves through several different modes of art. Through many different means, The Link attempted to provide an environment for young people to explore their talents and challenge themselves to new activities

Our in country orientation was only three days long and in that time we were given a crash course on the conflict in Northern Ireland, the peace initiatives that were taking place and given generally guidelines on the types of young people we would be working with over the course of the next year.  I was welcomed to The Link, a drop-in centre for marginalized young people, on a Monday night.  This was to become my new community.  My new friends, my new family, and my new brothers and sisters in Christ.  I arrived early for the Voice Committee Meeting.  This was a meeting between the staff and youth participants to decide what the drop-in could do to benefit everyone.  My supervisor, Paul, told me just to jump in when I felt comfortable.  Alright, I thought — I’ll just sit back and try to fit in, maybe they won’t even notice I’m here quite yet.  I walked into the room and immediately faced a firing squad of the girls of the committee.

Who are you?

What are you doing here?

Why did you come here?

What’s your name?

Where are you from?

I tried to answer as many questions as possible, but felt overwhelmed by their coarse mannerisms toward me.  How was I suppose to fit into a community that persecuted me?  How was I suppose to serve?

I sat back and took notes at the meeting.  Trying to come to grips with what my purpose was at this new place and how I was going to interact with these girls.  The topic of fundraisers came up and it was quickly suggested they raise money to shave my head.  My eyes bulged and my throat went suddenly dry ... was this how I was supposed to fit in?

Obviously I didn’t allow this to happen, but I was intimidated.  Why did they want to shave my head?  When Paul said to jump into things, he didn’t mean let them shave my head right?

In retrospect, I jumped into my job with both feet.  I worked long hours to develop programs suitable for the young people.  We did programs on sexual education, drug awareness, self-esteem and assertiveness.  None of these classes could take away from just being with the young people.  There were times when all I could do was just be present each day in the drop-in.  My presence paid off late one night one of my girls phoned me with suicidal thoughts.  She needed a friend to listen to her woes and I was there.

During orientation both in the U.S.A and in country, people kept saying it was more important to “be” rather than “do.”  It was this “being” that allowed me to be welcomed into homes and invited into families.  I learned about The Troubles from first hand accounts of people over the age of 30.  Each family had their own story of how the conflict had seeped into their lives.  Some were still very bitter toward the “other” side, while others knew the only way forward was to extend olive branches whenever possible.

Spending time on the beach with young people from Fort William Park Presbyterian Church of Belfast. While only spending Sundays with the young people of Fort William, Mary Elizabeth enjoyed working in the context of the church and being responsible for education and leading worship.

My supervisor was a great teacher of peace and reconciliation.  He was a 6’6” former rugby player with the heart of a teddy bear.  One night, one of our “regulars” came in drunk.  Jonny was one of the young men that frequently tested my limits by cursing and hurling insults at me throughout the drop-in time.  Jonny was a seventeen-year-old young man who often came into the drop-in to stir up trouble and wreck havoc.  Most of the time it was all in good fun, but at times it could be inappropriate.   I knew the history of Jonny from Paul, my supervisor.  Jonny had been kicked out of school at the age of 15 for unruly behavior.  His mother had two other children from different fathers and a live-in boyfriend that didn’t much care for Jonny.  In December he introduced me to his partner who was pregnant and shortly after made sure to bring the baby girl by to be introduced as well.  In January, his daughter was put into the intensive care unit at the Royal Hospital in Belfast.  Jonny had no transportation and tried to get up to visit her daily, but found it hard to make journey.  During this time he and his partner had a falling out and she had filed a restraining order on him, which prevented him from being within 100 yards of her. 

Often times Jonny would come into the drop-in drunk, high or ramped up on Red Bull and irritate other young men including his half brother.  The Link’s policy was to allow young people to come into the drop-in even if they were chemical altered.  It was our belief that they were safer in the drop-in rather then being out on the street.  Sometimes Jonny would get out of hand and we would have to ask him to leave, but most of the time, he would come back and apologize for his behavior the next day.  Jonny was a good kid — but he was dealing with a lot of stressful things at the young age of seventeen. 

Jonny was also actively involved in one of the local paramilitaries and often did errands for his commander.  One of his most recent “errands” had been to cashed fraudulent checks at the bank and post office.  He had gotten caught by local authorities, but refused to turn on his commander and took the rap instead.  He had hired a lawyer to sort out several of his other convictions including:  anti-social behavior, fraud, disorderly conduct and refusing arrest.  The commander of the local paramilitary was getting frustrated with this young man.  One too many times he had been picked up by the police and was giving their organization a bad name.  Jonny tended to resort to the drink to help solve his problems and at the young age of seventeen was showing early signs of alcohol addiction.

In the Spring, Jonny had received a summons from the local paramilitary.  A summons was a guaranteed “Come to Jesus” moment influenced heavily by violent force.  We had heard he was to receive two broken arms and a gunshot to the calf for his offences.  The paramilitary wanted Jonny to know that he had screwed up and his behavior would not be tolerated any longer.  No chance of an olive branch it seemed.   Jonny chose not to show up for his original summons which meant punishment would be ten times worse once the paramilitary got a hold of him.  That week Jonny came to The Link seeking sanctuary.

When we got word about the punishment beating, Paul immediately phoned the commander of the paramilitary and convinced the group to extend Jonny a reprieve over the weekend.  Not only did Paul believe that Jonny could change, but he was willing to extend grace beyond measure to Jonny.  When Jonny came into the drop-in drunk one night, I witnessed Jonny hit Paul multiple times in anger as he yelled profanities.  Instead of holding a grudge or demanding Jonny never come to the drop-in Paul reached out to Jonny.  Paul challenged Jonny to become a man of integrity.  Paul was my mentor and teacher and taught me of a love that extends far beyond what I had once conceived.

Upon returning to the United States I sought a place where I could continue what I had done in Northern Ireland.  I thought this was in the medical field.  Everyone else thought I should go to seminary. When I heard this I often laughed and said with laugher, No thanks!  Instead, I took a job at a tax firm to help cover bills and allow me to tax classes while I pursued medicine once again, but sitting in a Genetics course I finally realized where my true joy and happiness lay.  My true joy and happiness lay in meet a hunger of the world, that hunger was to work with and for the church.

The path to seminary retrospectively was lined with obvious signs that I should have seen this coming, but I was stubborn and had to come to the realization on my own terms.  I might have gotten here another way, but I truly think the Young Adult Volunteer program helped me grow, transform, and realize where my true happiness lies.  I will be the first to admit my year in Northern Ireland was a hard year, but it was also the best year of my life.  I thought I was not going to be a part of the 60% of YAV’s that go to seminary.  I fought hard not to be, but when I was surrounded by a community and engulfed in the opportunity to show and feel God’s love in ways I had never experienced, how could I not walk away with a new hunger for myself?