Ale La (Go There)

Surrender and Trust. Those are terrible words. They feel terrible anyways. I mean, I'm sure they are wonderful in theory. But anyone who has ever struggled with Surrender and Trust knows what I am talking about; that sinking feeling when trust comes up in a conversation, the numbness when someone says, " Don't you trust yourself? " and the near hysteria when you realize that trust and surrender mean that sometimes bad things happen. Well, I guess bad things happen anyways whether you trust, surrender, or not. Yes, this post is off to a cheerful start. I have been thinking a lot about  this time  when I was in Peru and vividly remembering my conversation with God about surrender. I remember that I was reading the book of Job on that trip, and I was struck by the encompassing tragedy of it, and how Job just sat in the dirt and wept for days. I remember that when I finally told God, " I think you can really HAVE my life... Yes, really. " I wanted to sit...

How can we describe the moments where we feel the stillness permeate our bones and yet understand that we are moving forward? Like a sailboat all unfurled, gliding across the water, its substance holds it and anchors it while the invisible wind pushes it forward. Such is the present moment. Like peripheral vision we are aware that something has shifted, but if we move our gaze, if we wander, the moment will pass. Recently this knowing  hit me as my brother and I drove along the coast at sunset. The golden haze of light illuminated each car on the highway and entered each pore of skin. Time had stopped. Yet, magically, we all moved forward. And again it landed as I watched an inchworm traverse the violet, fluffy orb of a garden flower. The substance of a memory held and the movement of the worm, slow and deliberate, surprised me. Words echoed, no they rippled, the effect bounced back again and again, with the cadence of my tiny green friend. "Amanda, just because you can handle som...

I had two cases of elder abuse on my case load last week, and somewhere in my processing wrote this. The cycle of violence hurts and seems to keep on turning. Yet, I still rest in Hope. If we can all get out of our god complexes and ask for grace and help...There. Just. May. Be. Hope. Dear ____, Sometime last week you might have hit your mother as she lay there dying, illness claiming her body, sightless in both eyes and demanding, SO demanding. Her imperious voice echoed through the house as she ordered you to pull her up in bed, to adjust her pillow, to change her diaper. I say "might have" because she could be lying too, a lying and manipulating mother, who seems to be clutching on to that last bit of control she has over life and over you. She has been dying for a long time, perhaps too long, perhaps just long enough. You threatened her for reasons unknown to me, but I can speculate. You threatened her because she and your father hit you, because aggression ...

Holy ground, sometimes we get to walk on Holy ground. I love the passage in Exodus 3 where God tells Moses to take off his shoes before he comes any closer. God is asking for an outward symbol of an inward attitude. Hey Moses, make yourself vulnerable and humble, you are about witness how Big. I. Am. Once Moses realizes what this means he hides his face as well. I feel like that a lot these days. I walk into a patient’s home, into the circumstances that surround their death and I feel like I’m walking into something sacred. Sometimes it is terrifying, sometimes there is so much emotional pain that you can feel it strangling you, and other times it is SO peaceful as you watch that person get ready for something enormous. I have cried tears of happiness, sadness and overwhelming fullness at least once a week since I got this job. There have been days of insanity; a patients eye rupturing, cleaning gangrenous feet, and holding an inconsolable sister after the quick passi...

I don't know about you guys but I sometimes struggle with a lot of skepticism. But I have a working theory; God does stuff. Christians talk about Faith, we talk about God, and we talk about God having a plan for our lives. However, oftentimes, if we're honest, we will admit that we have a hard time believing in God's plan for our lives. Even more frustrating is the fact that we often cannot see God's plan for our lives. So, how are we supposed to follow along with whatever that plan is? These are the kinds of things I ask myself, and maybe you have asked yourself the same. I really felt like the time I spent in Peru was put in front of me in a really obvious way . People talk about feeling "called" to do something, but for me it was more like there were no options here in California and as soon as I started to think about moving to Peru a world of possibilities exploded. Call it what you like. I felt like God DID something to take me to Peru where...

Wintertime in S. California. The few weeks out of the year when Southern Californians marvel at the layer of frost (which they we call ice) that has formed on our windshields. The kids in the streets breathe enthusiastically on each exhale as their breath freezes around their faces. And we bundle up in layers of cotton, because wool is too scratchy (not to mention practical). On my hands and knees in my front yard "weeding" my flower beds, I felt the cold soak into my hands and numb my toes and fingertips. People say you are supposed to talk to plants and play them classical music in order to foster the proper growing environment. Does swearing at weeds when they break off in your hand count? I heard my next door neighbors yelling at each other inside of their house, and my body tensed up. A visceral response. I've been having a lot of those lately, quick and sudden responses as if my body just reacts to whatever is happening and I have to quickly moderate/check my...

I have been getting a lot of questions lately. Number one is, "So... How was Peru?" And Number two is, "So, what's it like being home?" Well, I don't really know how to answer question number one. I think that my memories, the things that I learned, the Spanish and the stories are just going to come out as I live here. I will be talking about Peru for a while, and I'm okay with that. Question number two is also pretty hard to answer, and here's why. It seems like I go through my days here either feeling a LOT or just in a haze. When I'm really overwhelmed, everything starts to get fuzzy. It's like I'm listening to people talk from underwater. I have no idea what my face looks like, or how I come across in these moments. It's kind of like being stuck in puberty, when you just didn't understand anything but thought that you knew everything. The most awkward thing is that I used to live here, and I feel like I used to be a...