Missed sunrises might mean you have your back to rainbow.

Happy weekend, friends.

I’m currently treating myself to a chai tea latté at Café D (which, I’ve decided, will probably demand half of my monthly stipend pretty consistently), which I think has become my Friday tradition. I still seem to think I deserve some sort of reward for surviving a 40-hour work week. I’m sure that will make some of you laugh. But honestly, it’s probably good to reward yourself for these things—we all deserve a little self-care! Today at work we had a “team meeting” with all of us who work in Family and Anti-Poverty services. One of my bosses, Barbara, led us in a reflection that I think really resonates with a lot of people. It’s a reminder of our interconnectedness and a call to self-reflection and just BEING, which makes our connections more energetic and nourishes our relationships. It’s a good reminder for a bunch of people who work at a busy agency and with the clients that we work with at EPH, but it’s also a good reminder for anyone who’s busy… which is a lot of you! I’m including it here for you:

We who have lost our sense and our senses – our touch, our smell, our vision of who we are; we who frantically force and press all things, without rest for body or spirit, hurting our earth and injuring ourselves: we call a halt.


We want to rest.  We need to rest and allow the earth to rest.  We need to reflect and to rediscover the mystery that lives in us, that is the ground of every unique expression of life, the source of the fascination that calls all things to communion.


We declare a Sabbath, a space of quiet: for simple being and letting be; for recovering the great, forgotten truths; for learning how to live again.

-“Call to Prayer” from the United Nations’ Environmental Sabbath Day, June 1990.

Anyway, the second half of this week was pretty busy at EPH. I did three energy assistance intakes, two of which required me to break all of the rules that I’m still learning. With each of these clients, Chris and Margaret, I faced obstacles (they’d already been helped with energy bills twice this year, which is our limit, or they didn’t qualify for some other reason), but I found loopholes and made extra calls to the county and somehow got permission to use what I like to call “the county’s secret funding” to help them anyway. The sense of fulfillment I got from those interactions was so energizing. I don’t know what made me so persistent in those moments, but I recalled something someone from the county told us at our training for energy assistance: “Don’t give up on a client in a critical situation. Make extra calls. Maybe there’s funding you’re not even aware of. Beg the electricity company if you have to, but try to do something.” I am happy that I didn’t give up on them and that I was able to help them, and I know they were grateful at my extra effort on their behalf.

It was challenging, though, because I had to do a lot of exceptional things when filling out their applications, and as I am still learning how to do the NORMAL procedures, this was a bit of a challenge! But, now I know. This is how I’ve been learning at EPH: just diving in and asking a lot of questions. I was able to pay both of their bills for them. Margaret, who had come to me in tears because she was laid off, she’s disabled, and she’s drained her entire savings AND her retirement fund, literally looked like I took a 10,000lb. brick off of her shoulders. She told me that she still doesn’t know how she’s going to manage next month’s bills but that she can at least breathe for a moment right now. I don’t know how she’s going to make ends meet either, but I do know that God provides in interesting, interesting ways.

To that end… a story for you all. Yesterday was a long day. I helped a gentleman fill out SEVEN job applications in the morning, and in the afternoon I did one [normal] energy intake and had another near-intake that ended in me having to inform a young mother with her two beautiful children in tow that she’d already received assistance twice this year and that there was truly nothing I could do to help her. Somewhere in between, I made a lot of phone calls, watched a few notary actions because I’m still learning how to do those things, and made a resumé with a client. I was a bit sleepy, too, because I’d gone to Portland to celebrate Lizzie’s birthday the evening before and even though I had come home pretty early, I hadn’t slept well. Anyway, it was also my night to cook dinner with Linds (spaghetti pie this week).

At dinner, our community discussed things that are challenging us and things that we feel like we’re getting better at. I shared some of my feelings, which were warmly received, and we had a pretty intense discussion about one of my housemate’s jobs, which she really, really doesn’t like. I went to bed tired but not unhappy, and I felt a bit overwhelmed by thoughts about what I’m doing after this year, which is something that keeps creeping into my mind… already! I am having trouble entrusting that particular anxiety to God and, instead, have been trying to figure it all out on my own, researching and making lists and trying to force some sort of divine epiphany about whether I want to go to law school or grad school (for what?) or do another program or get a job or who-knows-what. I got a surprise call from Esteban, which was lovely, but when I went to bed my head was still spinning about all of this “life stuff.”

Hard to believe it was still this pretty post-sunrise!

I decided that, even though I had to get up an hour early this morning to get to work (we had to help with the Dental Van that was there today), I was going to go running. It was dark when I woke up at 6am, and I almost didn’t get up. I hadn’t slept well again, and I thought I should stay in bed for another hour instead of running. But then I realized that I could catch the sunrise if I hurried, so I hustled out into the misty morning and started toward Walters Rd, which leads to the butte. It’s quite an incline as you ascend the winding, scenic road, but the view is completely worth the few days of sore calf muscles and the shortness of breath. The early morning air is so brisk and fresh and it feels good to huff and puff a bit in that kind of weather; plus, I really wanted to see the sunrise. I had a feeling I was missing all of the best colors, though, and that hunch was confirmed when I reached the top and saw a beautiful sky and Mt. Hood but only the tail-end of the sunrise. I stood there, catching my breath for a second and sort of getting frustrated at myself for missing it, at the hill for being so dang hard to climb, and at God for not giving me just at little bit more of a sunrise after I did all of that work.

Then, I turned around. And there it was: a full-fledged, faint but breathtaking rainbow. I actually laughed out loud at the fact that I’d been complaining to myself about missing the sunrise (my own fault!) and, in the course of my internal whining, had completely missed the beautiful gift I’d been given instead—one I never expected! An elderly man came out of his front door to grab the dew-covered newspaper from his steps. I asked him what time I’d have to get to the top to see a sunrise and then I pointed out the rainbow. “I’ve never seen one on that side of the mountain,” he told me, which made me realize just how lucky I was to be catching that spectacular sight from such a perfect viewing spot.

It's faint, but it's a full-fledged bow of hope and symbol of trust!

Moral of the story: rainbows are a symbol of trust in the Bible, a symbol of the covenant God made with Noah and a promise of blessings in exchange for our hope and trust. A rainbow is probably exactly what I needed to see, given my anxieties and my inability to surrender those worries and thoughts and plans in prayer. I didn’t go looking for it, and in fact, I almost missed it because I was so annoyed with myself and with the whole world for not giving me the thing that I thought I’d worked so hard for. I thought I’d planned things and timed things perfectly, I felt I’d organized and orchestrated to the extent that everything should flow the way I’d intended it to, I believed I was entitled to the sunrise on MY time as a reward for my effort. And instead, I got something I hadn’t asked for or expected. Again and again in my life, I am taught this lesson—that we are given what we need, even if it’s not what we wanted or anticipated. But to receive those surprises, we have to be open enough. We have to be looking. In a quite literal sense this morning, I was closed off to the special treat God had in store for me; my back was turned, and I was focused only on the unintended and unsatisfactory results of my effort and my plans. This week, I did have to say “no” a lot. I did have to tell a beautiful young mother that I couldn’t give her any energy assistance. I did find myself frustrated and up against things that, while out of my control, just didn’t pan out the way I would have liked. But if I only focus on those moments, I entirely miss the grace in my week.

Today, I had a grace-filled moment. It was a hard-won victory, but after an hour, I helped a woman named Maria find her husband, who had been taken from jail (where he was last week) and moved to Immigration, though she wasn’t sure where exactly. She hadn’t heard from him at all, so she truly didn’t know if he was being detained in the Northwest or if he’d already been shipped off to Mexico. As all of this information is fairly public, I looked him up online, just as I’ve done numerous times for people looking for individuals in custody, but I didn’t find him in the records of the area detention centers nor in the online roster of people who are being held in federal centers. I called a dozen numbers and tried multiple combinations of his first name, first last name, and second last name when trying to locate him in various records online. I couldn’t find him, and no one I spoke to could find him either. I told many of the people with whom I spoke on the phone that I had to tell this woman something; didn’t they have a number I could call next? How could this be happening? The jail told me he was taken by immigration, so how could they have no record of him being detained at their facility or in another location? No one knew, but despite the fact that they were as puzzled as I was, they didn’t have to tell Maria “sorry, I can’t find him,” so they eventually forced me to hang up the phone and stop asking them to try something else or look harder or give me answers.

Finally, I talked to a guy named Andrew at Portland’s Immigration Detention facility. He answered the phone in a pretty atypically cheery tone for someone working at a detention center. He asked how he could help me today, and I said, “Well, I hope you can help me find my client’s husband.” I explained the situation, and he was genuinely concerned about the fact that this guy was somehow slipping through the cracks. He tried a few things to no avail and seemed to be momentarily out of options. He asked me to ask Maria a few questions, which I did, translating her answers to him afterwards (I think he was sort of fascinated by this relay system), but he still didn’t find what we needed. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, to which I responded, “Well, I don’t know what to tell my client. And I need to tell her something about her husband.” Andrew was the first person who HEARD me. “Her husband?” he repeated, as if he hadn’t caught that detail the first time. He was shocked that Maria hadn’t heard from her husband at all, and he was dumbfounded that the system, usually pretty mechanical and easily navigated, was not producing results.

“What did you say your name was?” he asked. I told him. “OK, Amanda, I don’t normally do this, but is there a number I can reach you at? I’ll keep looking for a bit. There are a few things I can possibly try. In the meantime, you can keep making calls too. I’ll call you back either way.” I was amazed, and I offered to give him my cell phone number so that I could keep using the office phone to call around. “I suppose it’s a bit soon to be asking for your number, but that would be great,” he joked. I gave him my number and, a few minutes later, I got a call from Andrew to confirm the spelling of Maria’s husband’s name because he still hadn’t found him. I re-spelled the name, and Andrew cracked a joke involving “and Bingo was his name, Oh,” to which I responded, “this isn’t a joking matter,” and he said, “you’re probably right,” and we both laughed. Hard to believe some actual flirtation was occurring during all of this! I told my client that I think Andrew was putting in extra work because he was either bored or interested in going on a date; Maria laughed, and I was grateful that Andrew’s high spirits were helping us lighten the mood a bit.

Look for the rainbow.

A few minutes later, Andrew called me back. “I got something,” he said. A squeal-like “yay!” somehow snuck out of my mouth. Andrew gave me the husband’s A-number, or alien registration number, which is basically the key to finding anyone in the immigration system online. Andrew did NOT have to do everything he did, but it was amazing that someone was willing to work that hard to help me help Maria. I couldn’t have found her husband without his help, and although the run-around that we endured was infuriating and unjust, he was a light in my day. And Maria now knows that her husband is in Tacoma, awaiting a trial which might not be scheduled for another three or four weeks, and she can visit him if she wants and/or call the court everyday to find out, using his A-number (!!), if he’s been given a court date. She was so, so grateful and, while not happy about any of this, so relieved to know what’s going on. The system, as I keep saying, DOES NOT accommodate these people, and I don’t care what you’ve done, if you’re being detained, your family should know. Your wife should know or be able to find out. I hate that we had to try so hard to get Maria this information, but if I stare at that frustration and that unfairness too long, I miss the rainbow, the grace, that is Andrew and other people who are trying to do what they can for people in this situation, even if they can’t entirely make the situation go away.

So, this weekend, look for grace! Look for rainbows of opportunities and unexpected hope instead of getting pissed about missed sunrises and foiled plans. Be grateful for the people who truly HEAR you, and try to really hear other people. You never know when you’re their light.

Love to you all.

Many thanks to Mama Wolff for sending my scrapbook supplies, a few items of clothing, and many DELICIOUS cookies (which all of Casa G-Sham is enjoying!). And to all of you for your uplifting messages and your readership. Greetings to Brittany in Espana (read her blog here: http://bwolff.tumblr.com/). And have a beautiful weekend, all!

Amanda

                                 

Gorge-ous.

So, yesterday was a magnificent day.

Punch Bowl Falls, one of many waterfalls along the way.

I’ll be brief, since the last post was quite lengthy. As I mentioned, we went on a hike in the Columbia River Gorge. The 13-mile trek is known as Eagle Creek, and it was a pretty flat trail except for a few spots with a steep incline and a couple miles of less-than-ideal surfaces (big rocks, mostly). I would say it was a blue, if we’re talking skiing codes.

Gresham had a great showing at the hike with all eight of us making it out there, plus Matt, Linds’ boyfriend, who graciously offered to drive some of us. Hillsboro showed up with all seven of their house members, and the two Portland houses each produced about 50% of their communities. That means we were a large group.

Gresham represented!

      We didn’t all hike together all of the time (that’s not even fun), but I did get to hike with several different clumps of people, which meant that I had some neat conversations with lots of individuals. It’s always nice to mingle with the other JV’s and we’re lucky to have so many in such a concentrated area. The hike took us past many, many waterfalls and we were often on narrow ledges high above miles and miles of rolling bluffs and lush greenery. The forests in the Northwest are only pseudo-familiar to me; I recognize the evergreens but not the moss that coats so many logs and tree trunks and not the rainforest-esque vegetation that I sometimes see. Plus, I see slugs everywhere! They’re gross and slimy. I thought you might want to see one… haha!

Yuck. A slug.

By far, the highlight of the 13-mile endeavor was Tunnel Falls. Everyone out here talks about Multnomah Falls, which is indeed spectacular (I’ve only driven past it so far, but I’ll undoubtedly visit it soon and for sure with any visitors who care to see it). But, if you’re up for the trip, Tunnel Falls delivers even more than the famous Multnomah cascades. The shades of green and yellow that climb up the massive walls of stone, formed from the Missoula floods centuries ago, are so vivid that it seems like you’re looking at an overexposed negative of the scenery. Out of this nearly-tropical, Fern Gully-like stage arises the massive waterfall—so big that I can’t get it all in one frame on my digital camera. The water roars down the façade of the rocky cliff and crashes into the bowl below, which is a whimsical shade of blue. As you approach Tunnel Falls, you see all of this.

From the ledge, it almost feels like you can touch the water!

But suddenly you find yourself ten feet from the water itself, on a narrow ledge that gets you as close as you can get to the mist without actually drenching you. You can feel the cool water as you make your way into the tunnel to go behind the falls, and when you come out on the other side, you feel the same thing. The dark tunnel that you walk through for a few moments is magical, and all the while you can see the bright greenery that awaits you as you emerge on the other side. It’s the stuff of National Geographic shows… truly one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.

Some of us about to go through the tunnel.

Shortly after reaching Tunnel Falls, our destination, we lunched alongside another awesome set of baby falls, which criss-cross like nothing I’ve ever seen. Then we began the trek back. I won’t lie: I’m sore today because I haven’t gone on a hike of quite that magnitude since Chile, but it was pretty wonderful to spend a day in the beautiful Northwest woods and to see the magnificent Tunnel Falls and to breathe some fresh, not-hot-but-not-cold air. The sun came out for the last few miles of the trip (it had been overcast before that), making it a perfect afternoon.

Some of G-Sham by Tunnel Falls.

The evening was the icing on the cake of our wonderful day. Crunchy had invited us over to tie-dye and have dinner. Kelly and Bridget can attest to the fact that I am a seasoned tie-dyer, so it was a lot of fun to do it with my community. What’s better is that dinner included BRATS, BEER, and the Ghiradelli chocolate BROWNIES that we brought (thanks to Linds’ mom for that box mix!!). Truly an amazing day. There were many times when I thought of several people back home who would have loved parts—or all of—the day. It was, to say the least: gorge-ous. Pun absolutely intended.

Time to get home for dinner, which Jenna and Daniel are making this evening.

Shout outs:

Brittany, I am so, so, so excited for your very SOON departure! Keep packing!

Cati, talking to you this evening was so energizing. You are beautiful and brave. Keep rocking Santiago, my friend.

The criss-cross falls (lunch break spot).

And, HAPPY ALMOST BIRTHDAY, Lizzie Olson!

Hugs to all of you.

Amanda

I have a crazy job. Thank God for Saturdays and Sundays.

Greetings, dear ones.

After a brief heat wave, temperatures have returned to moderate/perfect here in Gresham. What’s strange about our weather, at least in this part of the state, is that it is quite cool when I wake up and walk to work, but when I walk home from work at 5pm, I often have to peel off a few layers. It seems that the hottest time of day is at 5—very interesting. Still, it’s usually not nearly as hot as back home because we don’t have the humidity here. I went for a lovely run the other day at about 5:30 and it was about 70 degrees and sunny. I’d call that close to perfect.

Mt. Hood, taken from my roof (I climb out my window).

The first three hours of the day are often quite gray, and I’m always pleased when I leave the office and see that the sun has come out and Mt. Hood is perfectly clear in the distance. For those of you who think I could have taken a more quality picture of the mountain, perhaps you’ll like the new shot, which I took from the roof outside my bedroom window, where I often read and journal and stare at the mountain. One of my favorite walk-run-hikes here (a true “adventure run,” Molls!) is up Gresham Butte, and the view it provides is amazing. Mt. Hood is an active volcano that could blow any day (I can often see Mt. St. Helens in the distance as well, which blew its top in 1980 as some of you may know)… nothing like living on the edge!

The work week was pretty good, though we’re all still getting used to our lives being occupied from 9-5 (some people with long commutes are booked from 7:30-7:30; I realize I’m lucky to live only seven minutes—on foot!—away from El Programa). We’re pretty lame most nights. We come home, work out or nap or read in the living room or on the roof, have dinner together, chat a bit or have a Community or Spirituality Night, and get to bed by 11 or so. We have a lovely system for our dinners; every night, Monday-Thursday, two people cook dinner for everyone. We often cook for sixteen people so that we can all eat leftovers for lunch the next day, so those on dinner duty have their work cut out for them. The cooks decide what time dinner will be served (often pretty late) and then, if you’re home, you join everyone at the table. If you’re not, you know that there will be a portion of delicious home-cookin’ set aside for you when you make it back.

A shot of part of my room. Decor is sparce but meaningful. :)

The other half of my room. I love that green chair, of course.

My cooking night for right now is on Thursday, and Linds is my partner. In our house of eight, we’re probably the two people with the least culinary experience/talent, but we’ll learn! We’re using our wonderful moms as resources; last week, we made a recipe from Mama Wolff (Southwest Breakfast Casserole—I can post it if you’re interested because it was yummy!). Next week, Linds will secure a cheap and easy recipe from her mom and we’ll cook for our army. I enjoy our quiet week nights and try to make sure that I’m doing things in the morning and after work that make my life feel fuller. I often run before I go to the office (if not, I’ll work out after work sometimes). I always leave work for the lunch hour and will sometimes call people and reconnect, which always brightens my day. After work, I enjoy reading, reading, reading. I should create another blog for the books I’ll devour this year! Anyway, as with anything, it’s all about finding a rhythm, and we’re still establishing that, but we’ll get there. 

A few notes from the work week: I basically decided, after a slow Monday and a discouraging Tuesday, that this job, like much in life, will give me what I put into it. I had been too nervous about not understanding people—or speaking incomprehensible Spanish—so I wasn’t answering the phones. On Tuesday, Monica, one of the other girls in our lobby area, told me that I’d have to start learning to answer the phones. Well, I didn’t think I needed a tutorial so much as I needed some guts. So, I just started answering calls, and I often didn’t know what to say to people who called with broad and diverse concerns, but I asked Carmen and Monica lots of questions and slowly started to learn what to tell people calling for legal counsel, what to tell people wanting food vouchers, what to tell people needed appointments for resumes, and so on. 

I decided to take the same approach with the people coming into our office. Carmen and Monica helped with that because they sort of just told me, “A client is coming in and needs help making a phone call/finding a record of a marriage certificate/creating a resume. You can do that, right?” Inside, I thought, “Um. No,” but what were my options? So, this week, I was able to observe Karen (a volunteer who does some energy assistance and some notarizing, two things I’ll be doing; she’s in the office once or twice a week) do some notary things, and I helped Carmen to an energy intake. It was amazing to look at this beautiful lady, JoAnn, and tell her, “We’re able to give you $400 to help you catch up on your energy bills.” She told me she’d been “blest by the best” that day. Her situation was heart-wrenching and an all-too-often-heard story. She lost her job of fourteen years not long ago and hasn’t found other employment. Her rent costs $850/month and she receives unemployment for $856. She gets food stamps worth about $104 and makes that work for her, but she’s o ften left unable to pay her utility bills. She pays only what’s necessary to not get shut off, but after awhile she’s bound to get behind, at which point she gets help from her family members or needs to come to an agency like ours. 

Sadly, we only have funding right now to help people with a certain energy company, so many of the disheartening moments of my day come from having to tell the people calling us (who have the OTHER energy company) that we can’t help them at this time. That’s why it felt so good to actually be able to provide assistance to JoAnn, who does have the provider for which we currently have some funding. I’m excited to receive more funding this winter so that we can help more people because it breaks my heart to have to say “No,” “Sorry,” and “I know no one else in the area has any funding either… No, I’m not really sure what you can do…” again and again and again.  

I also helped a woman named Maria this week, who was trying to track down the record of her original marriage certificate from North Carolina from 2005. She needed it for some other official task she was doing but realized she had never received it. So, she’d had someone help her write a letter to NC Vital Records to track it down. She sent in the $24 search fee and, after a few weeks, received a letter in response saying that they were keeping the money for their efforts but that their search hadn’t found any such record. Discouraged and confused, she came into our office and asked if I could call and find out what was going on. She gave me two documents—something that looked like a copy of her marriage license application and also a pseudo-marriage-certificate document that looked official except that it was lacking a signature. I figured there must have been a communication problem because these documents seemed to confirm that she had indeed married her husband in 2005 in that state.  

So, I called the state and they found nothing again, something I thought was preposterous. I called the county in which she’d been married and their search also produced nothing; she simply wasn’t in their database, which wouldn’t have been the case had she actually gotten married there in that year. I was confused and getting frustrated on the phone with the woman at the records office when she finally asked me, “Wait a second. Are those documents in front of you white? The application papers?” When I said yes, she told me that Maria and her husband were supposed to have returned those copies to the Vital Records office, at which point they could also submit $10 and receive an official certificate. The process had never been completed, and I don’t even know if they were “officially” married all this time, something I had to explain to Maria. We both laughed, but I was also upset because this was another clear case of someone being lost in the system because she can’t speak English and because no one bothered to make sure that she understood these things at the time. In addition, all of the names on her marriage license were spelled wrong and mixed up (many Latinos have two last names, which some people can’t seem to keep straight if they don’t understand that cultural phenomenon). We drafted a letter that should hopefully help her get everything organized. She was extremely grateful. 

Something else I’ve had to do a few times at work is make calls to the jail and courthouse to find out the status of individuals recently taken into custody. I had three different women come in looking for their brother/husband/cousin this week. These men had each been arrested for charges not totally known to the woman in question, and the women didn’t know how to find out where the guys were being kept, for how long, and whether or not there was any hearing coming up or any chance to visit them. I learned to navigate this particular maze fairly quickly with a few calls to the right places.

It was pretty crazy to find out that one of these guys was in for SIX charges—rape, robbery, kidnap, sexual abuse, unlawful sexual penetration (first and second degree)—and was also going to be in trouble with immigration when all of that got sorted out. I had to tell his sister that these were the charges he was being accused of, that his hearing was coming up in a few days and she could call back (or come back to the office and have me call) to find out how it went if she wasn’t able to attend, and that he might also be deported…which means that she probably had to embark on an entirely separate and confusing maze to find an attorney that doesn’t charge a ton of money and would possibly represent him. Sometimes the things I have to translate for people are easy—documents and letters and passport applications—and sometimes I have to tell them hard things.

After tearing up one goat house and replacing it with this one.

Needless to say, I appreciate the rest that weekends offer. Last night, we went out in Portland briefly (we found that we were actually all quite sleepy by midnight or so and that we can’t afford to buy anything very good to drink anyway!), and today I had a BEAUTIFUL morning because Jim and Mary Ann, two other support people we have, invited us on a fun and gorgeous adventure. The Columbia River Gorge is perhaps one of the most breathtaking sights in this country, as I discovered this morning on our way to a 1916 mansion-turned-residence of Franciscan nuns. Their villa is in the Gorge and their grounds include gardens and patios and fountains, waterfalls, twisty trees, goats, chickens, and the mansion itself, which is pretty amazing.

A waterfall on the nuns' property. Amazing!

The nine nuns who live there are spunky and energetic. We worked on cleaning the goats’ barn and then demolishing a little house that they play in out in the field. Erin, Jillian and I were the only three able to go this morning, and I was so happy I got up and went because the ride was absolutely beautiful, the nuns were awesome, and it felt so good to do some manual labor. I tore apart the boards and ripped out rusty nails and scraped goat poo off the floor of the barn, and I loved it all! The Midwestern Hulk in me definitely came out as I tore the decrepit structure from limb to limb, ripping out rusty nails and snapping rotting 2-by-4's. It was exhilarating, actually, breathing the fresh Northwestern air and just using some muscles! We got lunch there, too—not a bad deal!—and stopped at two beautiful look-out points on the way home because Mary Ann is the best tour guide ever and knows everything about hiking and exploring the gorge. Tomorrow, we’re going on a 13-mile hike with some people from the other area JV houses (Hillsboro, Portland Mac, and Portland Morris), and although I’m a little nervous about pounding out thirteen miles, I am so excited for more scenery.

A panoramic of the Gorge area from Crown Point lookout.

Alright, unfortunately I have to stop here because it’s time for Mass. This week, we put a  “Get to know us” insert in the St. Henry’s bulletin, so all of the nuns recognized our faces and we met more people from the parish, who all asked us, “Do you need anything? A table? A waffle maker? A twin bed?” (we always say yes!). I like getting to know the people in this community, and I am gradually falling in love with this state. I know that all of you would love it, so please come visit!!

Time for Mass.

Love,

Amanda

Get to know G-Sham

Hello.

For those of you interested in knowing more about the fabulous people with whom I am spending one year, I am pasting the "blurbs" we compiled about ourselves for the church bulletin. St. Henry's has been super-supportive of us so far (they're fixing our bikes, spraying our house for bugs, helping us get into bedroom doors that mysteriously lock on us, giving us food, you name it!), so they requested an insert for their bulletin so that they can get to know us better. I thought you might like to see it. Enjoy!

Meet this year’s Gresham ("G-Sham") Jesuit Volunteers!

Erin is from Tacoma, Washington. She graduated from Seattle University with a degree in Psychology. During college, Erin volunteered as Fundraiser Co-Coordinator for Daughters of Mary, raising money for orphanages and schools in Uganda. She also volunteered extensively with the American Cancer Society Relay for Life. Most recently, Erin acted as Coordinator for the Haiti Benefit at Seattle University, organizing on-campus events to fundraise for Friends of the Orphans. In her free time, she loves to sing, paint and read. This year, Erin will be working with Catholic Charities Kateri Park as a Family Case Manager.

Lindsay P grew up in Davis, CA and attended Gonzaga University in Spokane, WA, graduating with degrees in Spanish and Biology. In college, Lindsay worked as a Resident Assistant for three years and was a part of Gonzaga’s Program for International Education and Relief. She loves running, hiking, baking, painting, and poetry. Lindsay will be serving as the Health Clinic coordinator at the Wallace Medical Concern, an agency that works to provide health care for uninsured members of our community. Lindsay is very excited to be living in Gresham and she looks forward to getting to know everyone at St. Henry’s.

Daniel is originally from Bainbridge Island, Washington. Daniel graduated from Santa Clara University in 2010 with a major in History and a minor in Sociology. In college, he acted as the Program Coordinator of CHAM Homeless Shelter, running an after-school tutoring program. He was also the Associate Director of Santa Clara’s Community Action Program. Daniel interned for a summer in London and studied abroad in Hungary. He enjoys traveling, hiking, reading, and playing hockey. Daniel’s placement for this year is at JOIN, where he will be serving as the Immersion Coordinator.

Amanda is a native of Oshkosh, WI and a graduate of Marquette University. She earned dual degrees in Writing Intensive English and Social Welfare and Justice. At Marquette, Amanda was a Resident Assistant, a Campus Ministry Retreat Leader, and a Coordinator for Midnight Run, a direct service organization that emphasizes relationships and reflection. As a senior and a Manresa Scholar, she served at Casa Romero in Milwaukee as the Director of a family retreat program for Latinos. Amanda also spent 6 ½ months studying in Santiago. She loves to travel, browse used book stores, run, write poetry, and take photos. Amanda feels very blessed to be working in Family Services as the Anti-Poverty Specialist at El Programa Hispano this year.

Jillian hails from Buffalo, New York. At Boston College, she was a Psychology major and a Women’s Studies minor. She also worked with the Boston College School of Nursing Eating Disorder Research Team as an Undergraduate Research Fellow. In addition, Jillian volunteered at the Buffalo Psychiatric Center, tutoring patients suffering from various psychiatric disorders, and she was a Freshman Interest Group Facilitator at the campus’ Women’s Resource Center. Jillian enjoys cooking, traveling, and Buffalo snow. This year, she will be the Volunteer Coordinator at Cascadia Behavioral Healthcare/VIEW.

Colleen is from San Diego, CA and is the oldest of four children. She graduated from Santa Clara University with a degree in Economics. In college, Colleen participated in several immersion trips to Japan, El Salvador, and the Arizona-Mexico border, where she studied immigration. She was also an ESL tutor for campus employees. Colleen loves reading, hiking and rock climbing, and she played tennis and rugby. She will be working at the Gresham Human Solutions Inc. office, coordinating funding for energy assistance to low-income families and individuals. Colleen is very excited to be living and serving in Oregon and to get involved in the local community!

Jenna grew up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania amidst the rolling farmland of Amish Country. At Boston College, she earned a degree in International Studies with a Pre-Med concentration. She was the recipient of an Advanced Study Grant and examined gender roles and the vulnerability of women to HIV in Guatemala City. More locally, she worked with low-income, HIV-positive individuals with a history of substance abuse as a 4Boston Council Member. She spent the spring semester of her junior year in Quito, Ecuador. Jenna enjoys reading, photography, hiking, snowboarding, and learning languages. She is very excited to be working at Catholic Charities Refugee Resettlement Program as a Refugee Advocate this year.

Lindsay R is from Keizer, Oregon. She graduated from Oregon State University with a degree in Human Development and Family Sciences. In college, Lindsay interned at Family Building Blocks, working in therapeutic classrooms and going on supportive home visits. She also interned at ABC House Child Abuse Intervention Center, assisting children and families dealing with traumatic life events and spending time with a teen girls’ self esteem support group. Most recently Lindsay worked as a Student Teacher at OSU Head Start Child Development Center. Lindsay loves music, tea, and art. This year, she will be the JOIN House Coordinator.

I'm writing from work right now because I needed to take a break from answering phone call after phone call from clients, most of whom I can't help because they want energy assistance and we don't have anymore funding. Are there really far more people in need than there are resources, or does it just seem that way?

I made a list of things I'm grateful for yesterday, and it included such things as: my run up the butte nearby, which provided a beautiful view (annnd I was about 15 feet away from a deer, Dad!); the sunshine!; actually getting to do a few more hands-on things at work (I helped someone with a resume); live music in the park on my lunch hour; talking to Bridget; time after work for letter-writing and reading (I just finished The Catcher in the Rye... for the first time, if you can believe that!); picking roses; and home-made dinners.

My point is this: there are many, many beautiful things that help keep me hopeful. But today at work is pretty discouraging! This is why it's all the more important to do this sort of work in a context of community-- I really need outlets for this types of feelings of discouragement and helplessness. When a client tells me that her power is about to be shut off and she has a son with a disability and all I can say to her is that we don't have funds at this time, I forget about the pretty deer and the sunshine and the roses alongside our house. I'm just not sure what to do with those feelings.

Anyway, thanks for letting me vent to you all. I've appreciated the emails and insights I've received so far. Know that I truly appreciate and am grateful for YOU and your support (and in some cases-- ahem, Molly Ryan-- your delicious cookies).

Sending special prayers to Bee today.

Also, HAPPY 26th BIRTHDAY, BETH!!!!

Love,

Amanda

LUNCH HOUR TIME! YAY!

Happy one week anniversary to us!

August 14th, 2010

I must say… this 9-to-5 business will take some getting used to. I’m so, so happy that it’s the weekend! I know that eventually we won’t all be coming home from work feeling completely dead, but right now it feels like I sleep, work, wash dishes, work, wash more dishes, and sleep again. If it sounds like I’m complaining, it’s probably because I am. But that’s just because this full-time “working world” thing is an adjustment.

Anyway, my first day of work at El Programa was a mix of boring and overwhelming. I was bored because only a few people came in, which apparently isn’t going to be the case most of the time. It’s slower in the summer because people are out working on the farms or aren’t so worried about things that become bigger issues in the winter. I expect that as soon as it cools off here we’ll get more calls about people needing rental or energy assistance, food stamps, and other resources. I shadowed someone on Wednesday and learned a few things, but I was a bit overwhelmed by the amount of information I’ll have to learn. There are so many local and federal resources that I need to have in my arsenal when people come in asking for assistance, and it’ll take me awhile to familiarize myself with everything we offer. Also, the Spanish was a bit overwhelming; I’m definitely rusty, although I could easily understand the staff. Some of our clients are less educated and don’t speak the cleanest Spanish, so that will take some getting used to. Hopefully I’ll bounce back to (and beyond) where my speaking abilities were at when I was in Chile. I will get lots of practice!

Bad picture-- sorry. This is our first dinner at home. So yummy!

The highlight of my first work day was my first solo client interaction with Alfonso, a guy who came in because he was unable to communicate his concerns about some maintenance issues to his apartment manager, an English speaker. I drafted a letter that Alfonso could give to his manager and then explained it before I had him sign it. He asked if I’d call the manager once more (we hadn’t gotten a hold of him before), and so I made one more phone call and was surprised when the guy actually picked up. I communicated to the manager all of the concerns Alfonso had, and then I communicated to Alfonso that the manager would fix the blinds and the leaky sink that very day. Alfonso looked at me and, a full smile spreading across his wrinkled face, exclaimed, “Muchas gracias, senorita. Estoy muy, muy, muy contento.” In other words: thank you so much, miss. I am so, so, so happy. I was amazed that this guy was THAT grateful, but it was a pretty great moment—and I was just happy I actually got to DO something!

Colleen picking blackberries on the Springwater Corridor trail.

On Thursday, work sent me to Portland for a training on OPUS, the energy assistance program I’ll be using to help keep our clients warm this winter (pretty awesome). The training was alright, but I enjoyed my lunch hour when I got to walk around downtown. I found my way to Pioneer Square and some live music, so I ate my lunch with a bunch of other working Portlanders. After the training, it was only 3:30 so I found a bench in the hip Pearl District of downtown and had a nice long chat with my dear Molly, which was rejuvenating. I then made my way to what will surely be my local heaven and haven, Powell books. Look it up online: it’s massive! I can’t wait to take some of you there when you visit. I read some good poetry until Lizzie arrived, at which point we spent a little time catching up and talking about our communities and our workplaces. She had to get back home for a spirituality night, so I found my way to the subway (called the Max here) and got home at about 8. After dinner and some reading, I was definitely ready for bed.

Racing beds down Main Street in Gresham. I can't explain this.

Friday was a staff meeting and a boring afternoon, but I liked getting to meet more of the staff and I enjoyed my sunny lunch hour—we’re having a bit of a heat wave here. After work, I came home and read for awhile, which was definitely relaxing. We walked around Gresham a bit because there’s a big Old Car Show happening this weekend, and we found ourselves watching bed races—yes, people pushed bed frames on wheels down the street… very interesting. Gresham is a cute place, but I feel like it’s a lot smaller than it is because we live in the historic downtown district and everything just screams quaint, charming, and small-town USA. I’m writing at the moment from Café Delirium, or Café D as we JV’s call it, and I think this will be my escape here in town. I will be making a point to get away to the city throughout the year though. There are a lot of exciting things to do in Portland and I want to take advantage of the fact that we’re so close.

Last night, we drove out to the country, parked alongside a field, and spread out on blankets to look up at the sky and catch some of the meteor shower happening this week. It was lovely and a good bonding experience. Tonight we have Mass at St. Henry’s and then a Knights of Columbus steak dinner, which I think we’re attending for free. Portland Mac House (Lizzie’s JV house in Portland) is having a little party tonight, so we’ll be hitting that up later on. So far, I’ve been pretty lazy this weekend, but I enjoyed chatting with my family this morning, especially Britt as she drove to Winona. I’m so excited for her to go to Spain soon (and very excited to visit her!) and it was wonderful to catch up on what’s been happening at home. You’re all in my thoughts often.

I also can't explain the Cher workout VHS in our house...

Things are going well here. We’re silly. We have no money. I like the sun. I’m happy it’s Saturday. And that is all for now!

Love,

Amanda

Change your lens.

August 10th, 2010

It’s ironic that I wrote about that broken vessel business because today was one of those days that could have easily been written off as a no-good, long, boring, stressful, draining day. That is, until Taizé prayer centered me, the beautiful dinner Jillian and Jenna prepared refreshed me, the desserts from St. Henry’s delighted me, washing dishes and being silly with Linds and Erin re-energized me, and Crunchy walking through the door with eight beers—all we wanted all day!—absolutely amazed me.

Sometimes, there’s no other explanation. Sometimes, you ride a broken bike to the gym, eat pie for breakfast at a church meeting (OK, so that was a sunny spot in the day!), spend four hours at the bank setting up personal and community accounts, try to buy bus passes only to find out you can’t buy them after the 8th of the month, find out you can’t use your starter checks to pay for the bus passes that you CAN buy, and then walk home tired and absolutely wiped out. There are some days that are just plain sucky, and you think that there’s no way that things will turn around. That’s not giving God enough credit, though. And, I’ve realized, your lens matters. If I look for the positive things in this day, I’ll see many—picking blackberries on our way home from the frustrating bus pass purchase mishap, talking to Katharine on the phone, all of the good conversation that occurred as we waited at the bank, and so on and so forth. Staying positive is hard but so important.

We discovered this last night as well, when we decided to go to Portland to see a free music concert in the park (sort of like Milwaukee’s Jazz in the Park). We ended up accidentally driving to WASHINGTON. Not good. But when we did get there, we enjoyed our delicious picnic dinner, got to see some free music, and spent the evening in the famous—and absolutely gorgeous—rose gardens. Some people in the car with me thought, at one point, that it wasn’t worth it to keep trying to find the concert. If we would have just found our way back to the interstate (and then to Oregon…) and gone back to Gresham, we would have missed a great night. We would have skipped some stress and some challenges, but we wouldn’t have learned important things about how we handle those tense situations, and we wouldn’t have realized just how much smarter it is for us to use public transportation in the future. One frustrating evening taught us at least three good lessons: stay positive, take the train, and understand how you and your loved ones handle stress. (P.S. The concert was really good, and all of the roses were beautiful and reminded me SO much of Grandpa!!)

Jenna in the rose gardens.

Pretty freaking excited about the rose garden. Photo courtesy of Jenna!

 One other thing I’m already realizing is that this community is so, so supportive. Crunchy and his wife, Margaret, had us over for dinner last night, and we had delicious chicken tacos and sampled some INCREDIBLE Oregon beers. It was such a nice gesture, and I’m seriously amazed at the outpouring of support we’re already receiving from him, from MaryAnn, and from everyone at St. Henry’s. People are so eager to bring us yogurt, find us another double bed, fix the showerhead, and give us directions (and/or a ride in some cases) to grocery stores. The hospitality and generosity is nothing short of beautiful. Crunchy is particularly awe-inspiring, as he literally shares a backyard with us and is devoted not only to his work as a youth minister at St. Henry’s but also to making sure we are comfortable, safe, and doing well. I don’t know that every JV house has such a wonderful support network. And, I truly feel like I was meant to be here because Crunchy and I have a million things in common. He’s from Minnesota, so he’s a Viking fan (Dad, I will hopefully be able to watch the games with him if they’re on out here!!). He’s also been to Chile, and when we walked into his house, the first thing I saw was a bottle of Mistral (the best kind—the kind we couldn’t afford there) sitting atop his china cabinet. I almost fell over. Then, he made us chicken tacos, which means that he read my mind and knew I love Mexican food but prefer chicken over beef. Seriously—incredible.

So, in the midst of all the running, shopping, sorting, deciding, haggling, organizing, and preparing, there are some seriously beautiful moments and gestures that are bringing me back to Center again and again, and I am ever so grateful for those.

Tomorrow’ s the first day of work. Stay tuned! You are all in my thoughts. Especially you, Mollsy. Stay strong—I love you.

Amanda

I can see Mt. Hood from my window.

August 8th, 2010

Welcome to my JVC Northwest blog! For those of you who were kept abreast of my Chilean adventures via my online chronicles, you should know that this will be a similar sort of situation, though I’m making a deliberate effort—in the spirit of living simply—to make my entries more concise. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll work on it! Anyway, I’m grateful that you’re going to be cyber-walking with me throughout this crazy year; just in case you’re not entirely sure what you’re in for (and what I’m doing), let me give you the basics…

I am doing a year of service with a Catholic nonprofit organization called the Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest. I discerned a call to serve with this particular organization because of the many parallels between its four pillars—social justice, simple living, spirituality, and community—and my own priorities at this point in my life. After an interview and a few other steps, I was offered a position in Gresham, OR, a city of about 100,000 people located just east of Portland. JVC NW provides a place to live, which in our case happens to be a HUGE place (our house was a convent in a former life), so I have seven housemates, all of whom you’ll get to know a little bit from my entries. We all work at different agencies and organizations in Gresham or in Portland. I am thankful that I do not have a 45 minute commute in the morning; in fact, I’ll be spending my year working at El Programa Hispano, a nonprofit under the Catholic Charities umbrella located a mere seven minutes (walking!) from our house in Gresham. Work starts Wednesday!

Home. I told you it was massive. My room faces the street.

Celebrating with champagne (thanks, former Gresham JVs).

 JVC NW gives us community money each month, which we are to use frugally to purchase food and transportation necessities (bus passes, gas, bike repairs and accessories, etc.) and to pay our utilities bill. We get enough money to live simply, which is one major goal of this year, as we’re seeking to live in something CLOSE to (for we will never actually achieve it) solidarity with the people we’ll be serving. We’ll have to work together to make our money stretch as far as possible, something we’ve already been working on. Lights get turned off and things get unplugged whenever they’re not in use. We shop at farmers’ markets to try to do our share to buy locally and organically, but we also have to go to places like Winco and Costco (which contradicts our social justice intentions in more ways than we’re comfortable with) to buy food in bulk because we go through it so quickly. We are trying to save some money so that we can go places as a community, like camping or to Seattle to visit some other JV houses.

In addition to our community money, we each get a modest monthly stipend of $80, which we can use on whatever we want. It doesn’t buy much, but that’s the point—to be extremely intentional about each purchase. I’m already learning so much from this… I’m passing up good “deals” because $5 no longer seems cheap for anything, and I’m thinking twice about pretty much every purchase, from a chai tea to a loofah, because the difference between “need” and “want” has become extremely important. On the one hand, this is already a liberating experience because I have no choice but to opt out of the consumerism that keeps our society constantly trying to keep up with the Joneses. I walk past cute restaurants and stores because making purchases in these establishments just isn’t relevant to me at this point. On the other hand, thoughts about money are ever-present in our minds right now because we haven’t figured out just how far our dollar can go so we’re all being extra-cautious this first month. We’ll see how that changes.

The final night of Orientation was a banquet and Mass.

My housemates include six other women and one lucky man. In brief, they are: Daniel from Washington (Santa Clara ’10), Erin from Washington (Seattle U ’10), Linds from Oregon (Oregon State ’10), Lindsay from California (Gonzaga ’10), Jenna from Pennsylvania (Boston College ’10), Jillian from New York (Boston College ’10), and Colleen from California (Santa Clara ’10). You’ll hear a ton more about them as the year goes on.

Highlight of Orientation: a sunrise hike. How gorgeous is this?!

Orientation was, on the whole, an extremely overwhelming week (we were at Camp Adams, about forty minutes from here, with all of the other Northwest JV’s, for five days); however, it was an important time to get to know some of my housemates and have a few of our first important conversations. I also got to spend some time with Beth, my dear friend from Marquette who’s doing her JV year in Washington, and Lizzie, my best friend from my time in Chile, a BC alum who has been placed in Portland (which means I’ll definitely be seeing her throughout the year!). My flights to Portland went really well, but going straight to Orientation was a tough transition. I felt like I was still half at home, and yet we all had trouble being present throughout the week because we were also half in Gresham already. It was an emotional week and a major information overload, so we were pretty glad to depart when Saturday morning came and make our way to our new home, which we found, much to our surprise, to be extremely nice. We all have our own rooms, we have an amazing “support person” named Crunchy who literally lives in our backyard, and there were delicious, chocolately bars on the table from another support person named Mary Ann. Not a bad “welcome” to Gresham.

Since we moved in (and chose rooms!), we’ve visited the farmers’ market, the library (our Internet source), Crunchy’s house (for dinner tonight—and beers!!), and St. Henry’s (for Mass this morning). I’ve run a bit around the neighborhood and a few of my housemates went to Winco to get us some food with our “starter money.” Settling in is both fun and stressful, and being a part of a community—in this sense—means a constant commitment to love, to “assume goodwill” (our favorite Orientation phrase), to engage (even when you feel like withdrawing), and to work through conflict respectfully. This community setting is unlike anything else. With roommates, if you get in a tense situation or just don’t feel like sharing something, it’s not a big deal; you can live “civilly” with someone but not share deeply with them. You can be passive aggressive and get away with it. You can be annoyed and just avoid them. You can decide that you don’t like them and then decide that you won’t love them.

What we’ve signed up for is sort of counter-cultural (in many ways, really… $80/month isn’t really the “cool thing” to do in most places, although “hippie chic” is sort of in around here!); in particular, this notion of choosing to love people, in spite of and maybe even because of the things they do that drive you nuts or test your patience, is not normal. Deciding to “sit in the tension” (another Orientation phrase) and do the hard stuff rather than just skipping the challenging stuff in relationships with people is sort of a bizarre idea. I asked myself, during a few particularly homesick moments at Orientation, why anyone would choose to leave a family and a network of friends that they love dearly and go live with seven people they’re not even guaranteed to like. But the thing is, just like learning Spanish in Chile (for sure one of the hardest places to learn it) means that it’s a lot easier to speak Spanish in other places, choosing to be in relationship with people no matter what will enrich the rest of the relationships in our lives. Community might be one of the most challenging things about this year, but I have no doubt that it will teach me a whole lot about life and love. It’s already started to!

This entry isn’t really short at all, is it? Darn. I swear I’ll get better at this. I just wanted to make sure that everyone understands the general idea of this year, although I don’t expect everyone to understand why I’ve chosen to do this. Still, I truly appreciate your support along the way, and please keep me updated on the lessons that life is teaching you in your context right now and the growth that you’re experiencing. I miss everyone dearly already, but I am most grateful that I can pick up a phone and call people and that people can come visit me in beautiful Oregon. These are big changes from my six and a half months abroad, and I am happy to be within reach this year.

One final note about the title of this blog, which may have thrown you off a bit. You might wonder what my volunteer year has to do with “broken vessels,” and to be honest, I think it’s something I’ll be working to comprehend all year. Here’s where I’m at with it now, though, and where it came from: once, on a retreat I was leading, I told a priest that I wasn’t sure I was making much of a difference or impacting many people because I was not in the best of places in my own heart that weekend. I was struggling with certain relationships in my life and trying to discern way too many things at once, and I didn’t see how I could possibly be getting through to anybody when I was in that sort of state. While I normally understand that taking care of yourself is a prerequisite for helping others (the “put on your air mask before someone else’s” philosophy), I didn’t have much of a choice that weekend but to be present to the people I was walking with and to lead in and through my own feelings of hurt, confusion, and inadequacy; I was supposed to be a leader, after all. I’ll never forget what that priest said to me: “You have no idea the good you are doing and the lives you are impacting. The Holy Spirit is working through you more than you know.” And then, and this is what really hit me, “You’d be amazed at the work God can do with broken vessels.”

I’m a broken vessel. Nowhere near perfect but still meant for some purpose.
The people I live with are broken vessels, and as a community we are a broken vessel too. Flawed but important.
The men, women, and families I’ll meet at work are broken vessels, as are my staff members.
Relationships are broken vessels.
Stressful, bad, long, seemingly unredeemable days are broken vessels.
The crucifixion of our Lord was a broken, broken vessel. But an important one!!
And God can redeem it all and do something with it—with me. Something that is good. Something that touches others. Something that turns things around. Something that starts a chain reaction. Something that surpasses our expectations.

I think this year is going to be hard, but I think I need to stay in the hard parts and sit in the tension and look for the growth that comes from that. I am blessed to have the support that I do have—both at home and here—so that those hard moments are not necessarily lonely moments. And I think that this year will be another lesson in asking God not for what I want but for what I need (and then trusting that need that I sometimes do not even recognize). I know that there will be times when I need to remind myself why I’m here, and you might see ramblings about that as we go. I also know there are times when I’ll wonder why I’m doing the job I’m doing when I’m sure someone else could do it better. At those points, I’ll probably pep talk myself about being present. And I know that I’ll struggle to live with social justice in mind, to live simply (not only fiscally but with my time, energy, and consumption) and to be a good community member. I think the spirituality component is so key, though, and it is for me the foundation of this whole experience and the way that I get to all those other things… which is why I need, more than ever, to trust that God does great things with broken, tired, incomplete, still-learning vessels.

Look closely over that street sign. That is indeed Mt. Hood!

Love from the Northwest and blessings to you all!

Amanda