I have a feeling that when God made Ireland, He knew that the Irish would have the rain and dark winters and melancholic temperaments to contend with — and so He made Ireland amazingly, shockingly, jaw-droppingly beautiful. I am sure He knew that they would need this beauty to give them hope throughout centuries of oppression that they would face. I have no doubt He intended to use this beauty to draw them closer to Him as they walked these paths and fields, climbed these mountains and descended these valleys. I am pretty sure God was whispering “I am here and you mean everything to me” when He formed this…