Two-for-One Special

Note: There are TWO entries in this post! You can thank my faulty Internet connection. Enjoy! And check Picasa if you want to see more photos. :)

From June 6, 2011

Hello, and Happy June!

Crown Point, looking over the Columbia River toward WA.

As most of you probably know, I had two very special visitors for five days over the Memorial Day holiday, and I had so much fun with them!!! My mom and Brittany arrived safely (with no Wolff-worthy travel trouble!) on Wednesday night, so I showed them to their room, gave them a tour of the house, and introduced them to the housemates who happened to be around. They were tired from their journey, so after a quick catch-up, we all headed to bed, in anticipation of the next day’s fun.

On Thursday, their first full day, we started out with a “tour” of Gresham, which highlighted the historic downtown neighborhood where we live and the El Programa Hispano office, of course. They got to meet my supervisor, Sandra, and also Carmen and several other coworkers who were around. Lindsay joined us for this and for lunch at a yummy Thai place afterwards as she had to head out of town for the remainder of my mom and B’s stay. It was nice that they all got a chance to meet one another as Lindsay has been an important person for me this year and I would have been sad had it not worked out at all.

Multnomah Falls!

After lunch, I drove us to the Columbia River Gorge and we started our waterfall tour, stopping at Crown Point’s Vista House, Latourrel Falls, Shepperd’s Dell, Wahkeena Falls, and ultimately the 600ft+ Multnomah Falls. It was an overcast day, but the beauty of the Gorge shines through in any kind of weather, and they loved it. We stopped for a quick bubble tea (well, I got a bubble tea—they didn’t like the tapioca balls) before grabbing pizza from Flying Pie here in Gresham. We brought that, and some beer, back to the house and had dinner with my housemates, which I really enjoyed. Then, we headed over to Alberta Street so that Britt and Mom could witness the spectacle that is Last Thursday. Although it was pretty mellow compared to the summer street fairs, there were belly dancers, fire tossers, and plenty of creative costumes to gawk at. And Brittany bought an adorable headband! Successful outing.

I love my Mama! (Japanese Garden)

We slept in the next day and then hit up Target for some essentials. I was a bit discouraged because the weather looked crappy once again. After a little meltdown, though, we decided to try to stay positive and enjoy any sunny intervals. We spent some time in Powells (where it’s actually not a problem if it’s raining) before getting lucky and enjoying our first food cart lunch in the sun. It got rainy again right after our Moonstruck chocolate treat, so we ran back to the car and drove to Washington Park. By the time we got to the [roseless] Rose Garden and the Japanese Garden, the rain had quit again so we got to wander around the lovely grounds without getting soaked. This occupied us until it was time to go home, freshen up, and meet José for a Peruvian-Northwest fusion dinner on Alberta. Our delicious food was topped off at Pix, where we had dessert with Lizzie across the street from her house (I really can’t say enough about this place… soooo good!). Mom, Britt, and José seemed to get along quite well, and we were all happy to see Lizzie too. She couldn’t come with us for the next activity, but the rest of us headed over to a bridge to [illegally] stand there and watch the Rose Festival kickoff fireworks. I was quite happy, to say the least.

Cannon Beach. I love my sister too!!

On Saturday, I took Mom and Brittany to the famous market in Old Town and we met up with José again. The four of us then joined Karen (my coworker and Portland “mom”) for lunch at a Greek place called Alexis, thus continuing our unintentional around-the-world culinary tour. Then, José left us and we hopped in the car and headed west, coastbound! We made a quick stop at Seaside before deciding to drive a few more minutes down the road to the touristy but always lovely Cannon Beach. We parked a bit far away from Haystack Rock, but it was a beautiful afternoon (thank God!) and our walk along the beach was fantastic. We played in the chilly water (and some of us got a bit more than we bargained for when the tide came in!) and creeped on babies and puppies, a favorite activity of at least two of us… but I’m not naming names. We wrapped up our afternoon at the ocean with two essentials: ice cream and salt water taffy! And then we headed back to Portland to find José for, you guessed it, more food! This evening, we ate at my favorite Mexican restaurant, Por Qué No, and then ended up bowling at a place nearby afterwards, which turned out to be super fun.

Wine Tasting!

Sunday was an earlier morning because we wanted to go to Mass at St. Andrew’s on Alberta, and the service started at 9:30. After Mass there with Lizzie, we treated ourselves to my favorite, well-practiced Sunday routine: tea at Townshend’s—followed by sandwiches at the Grilled Cheese Grill (José caught up with us here). YUM! After that, the five of us set off for the afternoon excursion that turned out to be one of my favorite activities: wine tasting in the Williamette Valley! We didn’t have much of a plan, but things worked out and we ended up doing tastings at five different wineries and having a wonderful time, thanks to José’s generous and excellent DD’ing! We stopped at a McMenamin’s in Hillsboro for some Cajun tator tots and a beer before making it back to Portland just in time for an event called Holding Hands Across Portland. This peaceful display of solidarity was a response to an attack on a gay couple, and the turnout at Hawthorne Bridge was really inspiring and impressive. I’m glad we got to take part. Afterwards, we continued on to Kell’s Irish Pub (a must for this group!) for dinner and drinks and some live music.

I miss you ladies already!

On Monday, we slept in again and then had a slow morning, wrapping up some loose ends and ultimately getting ourselves out the door around noon. We stopped at my favorite garden, Crystal Springs, to see the rhododendrons that mom and Britt also grew to love during their time in Oregon. Then, we met up with José for a final food cart lunch in downtown and a quick trip to the World’s Smallest Park, a tiny little planter called Mills End that really does hold the Guiness record and really is part of the Portland Parks System. Finally, we headed to Happy Hour at Portland City Grill, which was really just an excuse to look out the windows of this 30^th floor establishment. Although the sun we’d had while walking along the river earlier in the afternoon had mysteriously disappeared, it was still a really cool perspective of the city and a great idea on José’s part. After we bid him goodbye, we ladies headed back to Gresham to meet up with my housemates and have a delicious dinner at Jim and Mary Ann’s to finish up a wonderful Memorial Day and an absolutely phenomenal family visit!

I was sad to see Mom and Britt leave on Tuesday morning—and returning to work wasn’t nearly as fun as playing with them around Oregon!—but I’m so grateful that they were able to visit me. We did some of the same things that I did with my dad, but the two visits were also completely different. I feel very blessed to have had two wonderful visits with my family. Thank you!!!!!!

Posing at Mill's End Park, the smallest park in the world.

After recovering from a whirlwind of fun, I actually had a pretty busy week. And things are getting busier! Retreat is next weekend, and then the Portland Plunge, a weeklong urban/homelessness immersion that I’m helping Daniel with. Updates will follow all of these fun events, but be patient with me! I love you all and I’m excited to see many of you soon. I know these last weeks will fly by. I hope you are all doing well. Please keep me updated on your news as well—I know that many of you are transitioning and doing all sorts of things. I keep you all in my thoughts and prayers and hope that summer brings good things for each of you!

Until soon,

Amanda

June 15, 2011

The Final Stretch

Hello, everyone!

Retreat means cooking for 75 people. I made rhubarb crunch!

My internet went out quite inconveniently just as I was about to publish the previous post, so you’re getting a two-for-one special. At this point, much of the last post’s content is a bit outdated as I have already gone to retreat on Whidbey Island, WA and returned! So, to catch you up to speed…

The retreat locale this weekend was beautiful, and it was a VERY relaxing few days! Sarah, a former JVCNW Area Director, was the "facilitator," but I think we listened to her speak for a total of about two hours all weekend. She was very attentive to the needs of the group and saw that we wanted to be in the sun and be together, and she gave us TONS (maybe even too much) of unstructured time to find God in the beachfront beauty and in conversation with each other. I spent some of that time alone in prayer and journaling, but I passed most of the hours with good friends and members of my community. Even when I wanted to withdraw a bit and sit on a rock alone to reflect, it was so hard to do when there were hoards of people having fun and playing games right next to me. So, although I did get to have some time in quiet meditation, I think that my "prayer" this weekend was manifested mostly in that communion with my friends.

UNREAL. Two bald eagles in a nest.

I was hoping to be pushed a bit more spiritually and was slightly disappointed in Sarah's rather whimsical and vague musings, but I understand that she was trying to be accessibile to a lot of people. She mostly pulled from the Ignatian tradition and she didn't say anything I hadn't heard before, but I guess the main thing I took from it was a few questions here and there, which prompted me to do a bit of reflection about who I've become this year, how I want to integrate this experience into my post-JVC life, where I'm headed, and so on. Still, if you could follow her and all of her verbs, there were gems in what Sarah was offering us, and I'm holding on to and chewing on a few of those prompts.

The main grace of the retreat, for me, was that it was a really fun weekend with my housemates. We had a chance to get together and have a talk about what this year has meant for each of us, and we are really holding dear these last seven (!) weeks together. I feel rejuvenated and reinvested in that regard, and I think that's what I needed most of all. It was a restful and holy weekend, albeit a pretty unstructured one. I got to catch up with my friend and fellow JV, Beth, and she and I had some beautiful conversations about where we are at spiritually. I always look forward to seeing her on retreats and I’ll miss that consistency once we part ways next year. She's headed to school in Berkeley, CA in the fall to get her Masters of Divinity, and I told her about my recent questions, doubts, and difficulties in terms of my spirituality. She cited a beautiful poem from Catherine of Siena, one that perhaps you’ve already read, and she shared many of my sentiments and frustrations. I’ve shared it with you below. All in all, I think it was a pleasant retreat experience. I returned feeling spent but rested at the same time. And all around me, all weekend, was holiness in the form of bald eagles soaring overhead or deer wandering freely through our camp—not to mention the beautiful Puget Sound in front of us and the palpable love and delight that permeated each moment.

Says Catherine of Siena, Doctor of the Church:

“All has been consecrated.
The creatures in the forest know this,

The earth does, the seas do, the clouds know
as does the heart full of
love.

Strange a priest would rob us of this
knowledge

and then empower himself
with the ability

to make holy what
already was.”

Word, sister. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Anyway, speaking of these matters, I had my final spiritual direction meeting with Joyce Ann last week, which was really wonderful. She has been such an important part of my journey this year, and I am so grateful that I was able to connect with someone who has been so supportive throughout this whole journey. I really, really needed that relationship and I’ll miss her dearly!

Cuties.

I want to keep this short since you’ve already read one post, so I’ll end here. Stay tuned for details about the Portland Plunge, which begins Friday! Also, I will be doing some end-of-the-year/what I’ll take with me from this year posts in the near future as that is all very much on my mind. I hope that summer is treating you well (Portland doesn’t know what summer is. It’s still usually in the 60’s, and it rained today) and that you are happy and healthy and enjoying all of the holiness that is everywhere we turn!

Happy birthday to Lizzie Traudt (today!) and Aunt Vicki (tomorrow)! Vic, I am praying for you in particular this week and hoping that your birthday is a wonderful celebration and that the next day isn’t too much of a damper on things. And Danny—I hope to see you soon! Finally, Happy (early) Father’s Day to my generous and fantastic dad. I love you and I’m so grateful for all you do for me and all of your “girlies”!

XOXO,

Oh hey friends.

Amanda

Take a Hike!

Good evening, friends!

My lovely guest and me at the rhododendron garden!

This past week, we actually got to enjoy some BLUE SKIES here in the Portland area. Pretty awesome. Lizzie Traudt paid me a visit, and it was so nice to share some of my favorite spots and vistas with her! Although I had work most of the time she was in town, we made time to grab dinner and a beer with José at the DeSchutes brewery in the Pearl District and visit the Grilled Cheese Grill on Alberta, followed by drinks with Lizzie and José afterwards. Another night, we had dinner at our house and spent some time hanging out with my roommates, so Lizzie got to meet just about everybody.

Atop Council Crest, enjoying the sun and the warm day!

     Our best outing, though, was a pretty awesome urban hike called the 4-T trail. It involves parking in Washington Park near the zoo and then hiking on a trail (the first T) up to Portland’s highest point, Council Crest. From there, we had awesome views of the city, the Williamette River (which forms the east-west dividing line in Portland), and Mt. Hood, Mt. St. Helen’s, and Mt. Adams! Lizzie was lucky to have such a clear and beautiful day. And it was warm!! We spent some time at the top of Council Crest before hiking the second half of the trail to OHSU’s campus. There, we took the tram (the second T), which was free and awesome on such a clear day. The Portland street car (or trolley, T #3) was our next mode of transportation, and that took us to downtown. We got off by the Central Library and detoured so that Lizzie could sample some Portland food cart and Stumptown Coffee fare. Eventually, we completed the circuit and headed back to the Zoo via light rail (the Max train, the last T). It was a great way to see some of the city both aerially and from the streets!

The second T in our 4T hike-- the OHSU Tram.

I was sad to see Lizzie go, but I had a great evening on Friday with José before he headed out of town for a few days. I had discovered a restaurant serving what is described online as “Wisconsin-style fare,” and we just had to check it out. The place is called Savoy, and sure enough, they have a Friday Night Fish Fry (with Great Lakes walleye!), some pretty decent Old Fashioneds (Dad’s are still better), and fried cheese curds (José finally got to try them!). It was a pretty wonderful dinner, and we topped if off by splitting two mini-pies from a food cart: marionberry and a hazelnut chocolate! So yummy. Portland really loves to eat. This place is serious about food and all things having to do with food… I think it’s a good but dangerous place for me to be!

       Yesterday, I enjoyed more sunshine with Lizzie and Jenna. We hit the road in a ZipCar and drove through Columbia River Gorge until we arrived at a plateau called Rowena Crest. There, we did an awesome hike highlighted by amazing views of the Gorge (different than our usual angles) and lots of purple, coral, and yellow wildflowers. It was a breezy day, but it was a wonderful hike. The three of us had a lot of fun together. After climbing down and having some lunch, we embarked on a little drive called the Fruit Loop. This 30-mile loop takes you past wineries, fruit stands, fields, etc. We stopped at a few and got to sample some wines and some jams here and there. The best part, though, was the lavender farm where we met a sweet lady in a bonnet, smelled delicious lavender plants and products, and tried our best to photograph five speedy and stunning hummingbirds! Our last stop was for huckleberry and marionberry milkshakes. I’d say it was a pretty successful day!

Lizzie, Jenna, and I at the summit of our Rowena Crest hike!

Just in case you aren’t yet convinced that I’ve been having a good time lately, I have one more adventure to detail. Two weeks ago, José and I decided to “run away” to Bend, about three hours east of here—unless of course you take the scenic route through the Gorge, as we did, and tack on another hour. José’s friend and former coworker has a condo there and she let us use it for the weekend, which was awesome! The drive to Bend was lovely because we drove straight at, and then around, the snowy Mt. Hood, until we landed in a totally different climate zone (Bend is part of the high desert region in Oregon). We started seeing all sorts of different peaks—Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Bachelor, the Three Sisters—reaffirming my belief that this is a BEAUTIFUL state!

The amazing view of Mt. Hood as we drove to Bend.

José and I had a pretty chill Friday night after arriving, but we got up on Saturday to do two different hikes. The first was called Pilot Butte, a cinder cone rising up from the center of downtown Bend. It rained off-and-on during our hike, but we still got pretty lucky with the vistas and were able to see plenty of peaks from the summit. Later that afternoon, we did a totally different hike along the DeSchutes River near the condo. We walked past massive rock formations and a river divided in two sections by a huge lava ridge formed during the last eruption. We skipped stones and saw a bald eagle… it was pretty pleasant. On Saturday night, we went downtown and filled a sack with candy at Powell’s Sweet Shoppe before having some dinner and watching the Timbers game at the DeSchutes Public House. The next day, before heading home, we got a tour of the massive DeSchutes brewery company, which makes many of my favorite local brews. Once back in Portland, we caught a play (for free!), capping off what was a pretty relaxing and wonderful weekend escape.

A cool land bridge over a marsh on hike #2 in Bend.

Sometimes it’s just so rejuvenating to go somewhere else! Of course, it’s always nice to come home to “The Other Seven” and find out what crazy things happened while I was gone. This time, I found blown-up, pixilated portraits of Eminem, Lady Gaga, and Justin Bieber adorning our living room and dining room walls. And, my underwear were on my ceiling… but that’s a pretty long story.

I hope you’re all having a nice weekend, and I wish you a wonderful week. I’m especially thinking about you grads today! Congratulations, Class of 2011!!!!

With lots of love, and much anticipation for the much-anticipated arrival of two VERY special guests this week,

Amanda

PS Want more photos?  https://picasaweb.google.com/amwolff87

Marquette, you're not that far! Congrats, 2011 grads!!

Affirm peace, affirm life, affirm spring!

Hello, everyone!

Feliz Cinco de Mayo.This post is basically an excuse to share with you a ton of photos. But you should really go to my Picasa page for even more. Anyway...

Beautiful sunset in Washington at Daniel's grandparents'

I’m writing from Café D where I am sipping a beer (their newest addition to the menu, though it should be a margarita today, right?!) and enjoying some SUNSHINE streaming in from outside. Since I “unofficially” gave up Café D for Lent, it has been awhile since I’ve been here. It’s nice to be back. It’s nice to be blogging!

Easter. Accidentally color-coordinating...

I’ve written some pretty heavy stuff lately, so I’m going to keep it light today. Really, I just want to check in and—finally!—share a few cute Easter photos and some other pictures from the last couple of weeks. April, although too rainy for my taste, was really a month full of blessings. The first weekend, José and I went to California to visit his friends and family. Also in April, our house went to Washington to hang out at Daniel’s grandparents’ cabin for a few days. It was so beautiful in both rain and shine. Easter was a wonderful celebration, complete with Mass at St. Ignatius, a Skype session with many of you, and a delicious brunch with Colleen’s family and almost all of my housemates. Lizzie’s family was around for several days around Eastertime, and it was wonderful to see the Olsens again. We walked around Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden (my favorite Portland park thus far) and had lunch at the delicious Lucky Labrador brewery. And then I spent the final few days of April in Spokane, WA, where Lindsay and I hung out on Gonzaga University’s campus and ran Bloomsday, the famous (and hilly!) 12k, which we finished in a respectable though not amazing 1:02:49 (8:23 min/mile pace). So, it has been busy and I have been gone several weekends, but I am doing so well!

Jillian and her Haggada and the Seder feast she made!

We are now entering my last quarter of this JVC NW adventure. Hard to believe! While there is much to look forward to (my job at Casa, being close to my family, living with Molly, etc.), there is so much that I am seeking to savor here in Oregon. I really have fallen in love with the Northwest, despite the months and months of rain. And I can’t believe the community that I’ve established in just nine months. Today, I had a chat with one of my favorite clients, Arturo (he’s the one who brings all of his mail in and periodically plops it on my desk and asks me to read through it). He apparently just needed to chat with somebody, so he went on and on about how he lives on his social security and he has so many medical bills but when he has even a few dollars to spare, he sends it to his daughter, a single mother, much to some of his friends’ and family members’ dismay. “Life is hard,” Arturo told me. And he certainly knows that is true. “It’s also beautiful,” I reminded him. How could I deny that when, even as he spoke of hardship, this 63-year-old man sat before me with the broadest smile and the most adorable dimples I’ve ever seen? He spoke candidly and sincerely, and I told him he has a big heart and that he is a wonderful dad who has obviously figured out what matters in life. He said thank you (about fifty times—his M.O.) and then shuffled his way out of my office. He’s exhausting and working with him requires a lot of energy, but Arturo is also one of my favorite people because he never fails to brighten my day.

Seder Meal and Colleen's birthday

Likewise, I get a lift from Ketzaly, my favorite 5.5-month-old. She is still hanging out at the office on an almost daily basis with her mom, Sara, and she is jus the cutest thing I have ever seen. The other day, we stood in front of a mirror and she was SO fascinated by her reflection. She was even trying to mimic the faces I was making. She would just stare and laugh and wiggle. What a wonderful break from the work day. This has been a long week because I had to come in early on Monday for the Dental Van (which starts at 8) and then I had to stay late on Tuesday for a public hearing regarding the Community Development Block Grant that EPH uses to fund the work that I do in our drop-in area. Still, there have been these wonderful moments of life and energy. At the senior center yesterday, we had a Cinco de Mayo celebration. I watched a silver-haired man “get the party started” (his proclamation, not mine) and I couldn’t help but smile.

In the gorgeous rhododendron garden!

There is so much going on in the world—I think on a daily basis about Japan and Haiti and Libya and all of the places that have recently known destruction, violence, and death. It’s overwhelming. And I have felt uneasy and unsettled about the news of Osama Bin Laden’s death, not because I don’t understand the justification for it but because the way the news was received in Manhattan, D.C., and elsewhere was disappointing, distasteful, disgusting, and disrespectful. I couldn’t believe the frat-boy antics I read about and saw in the news. Drunken people, wrapped in the American flag, chanting “USA!” and gloating… something is wrong with that picture, no matter how tyrannical, inhumane, and downright heinous the deceased may be. Am I glad that Osama will no longer harm his own people or people in this country? Absolutely. But it just feels wrong to approach the situation with jubilation, especially considering how much it has cost us—financially and in ways, in lives, that we cannot quantify. The deepest part of me, the human part of me, was still moved when I read that Osama’s adolescent daughter watched her father be killed, and I think that’s an okay reaction to have. It scares me to see people rejoice over violence, killing, death, etc. I don’t think it’s our nature to act like that. Anyway! I said I would keep this light, and look what I’m doing.

Post-Easter egg hunt with Colleen's sister. Look at those PJ's!

It has been an interesting week, and I’m still trying to process large-scale things like our killing Osama and also the smaller things, like Arturo’s off-the-cuff chat. I read a wonderful poem written by an Arab woman, post-9/11, who ended her gorgeous, emotionally complex piece with the words “affirm life.” At all costs, that’s what we’re here to do, right? Affirm life. Affirm peace. Affirm love. It’s all around us on a daily basis, and it too overwhelms me…

I hope that your spring is full of joy and that you take a few moments to smell the flowers. Perhaps your boyfriend, if he’s as sweet as mine, will even send some to your office?

Happy Easter from Gresham (minus Linds)!

Post Bloomsday, 12k

Happy early Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you and admire you more than I know how to say, and all of Gresham eagerly awaits the arrival of Vernice (and you too, B!). I wish I could be there to give you a hug in person, but know that I am grateful for you everyday of my life.

And an early congratulations to Molly, Mara, Carly, Cara, Jessica, Bridget, etc. etc. etc…all of my favorite, beautiful graduating seniors! In a special way this month, I keep 3West close to my heart. I can’t believe you babies are wrapping up your MU experience. I’m so proud, and I wish I could be there for the celebration.

I love you all,

Me and my lovely 8th-graders. We finished our year together.

Amanda

The Road to Emmaus

Friends,


I'm writing from work (slow day today), so I won't be able to share the Easter photos just yet. Rest assured that they're on their way! Anyway, I write for a different reason this afternoon. Today's Gospel is one of the most beautiful passages in all of Scripture (OK, so that's my humble opinion)... or at least one of the best stories. Often known as the story of the "Road to Emmaus," here's the passage you'd hear at daily Mass today, from Luke's Gospel. I've shortened it a bit, and I've followed it with some of my own thoughts and a beautiful poem from Denise Levertov (reflecting on a Diego Velazquez painting) that you MUST read:




That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus,and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred (aka Jesus' crucifixion and death). And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.


He asked them, “What are you discussing as you walk along?”They stopped, looking downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, said to him in reply,“Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?”And Jesus replied to them, “What sort of things?”(They told him about Jesus' ministry, crucifixion, death, promised resurrection, and the fact that the somen who had visited his tomb that morning found it empty. He basically tells them that they're foolish and lacking in faith and then explains the way that all of the prophets' words refer to HIM and that this all had to happen in this way.)


 As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.”So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight.


Then they said to each other,“Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?” So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the Eleven and those with them who were saying,“The Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon!”Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.


-Luke 24:13-35ish (today's Gospel)


I love this reading. I love it because it's about blindness and sight, about belief and doubt, about mystery and the obvious. It's about a journey-- our journey-- that vascilates between all of those. We're all always on the Road to Emmaus. God is in everything, but we're often too blind or too caught up in the drama of the day to stop and realize it. Jesus is always right in front of our eyes, but sometimes we miss him, just as these guys did. We look past the truth. We miss the beauty. We don't make the connection.


And then there are those moments when we're blindsided with certainty and overflowing with vibrance; when our hearts do burn within us; when we feel an extra-special connection or communion with one another or a harmony with creation; when we are suddenly so alert, so aware of the presence of the Divine, of Beauty, of Truth; when we feel like we're exactly where we're supposed to be. Sometimes these moments come when we least expect; sometimes it's over a normal dinner or through a casual conversation among friends (as is the case here) that our eyes are most opened and we are able to see through all of the haze to what's actually going on, what actually matters, what's actually real.


I found myself, at Easter Mass, struggling with a few key questions about my faith. I found myself thinking hard about things like whether or not I really believe in transubstantiation. It threw me off when I realized I'm really not so sure. There are certain things about being Catholic that I just downright disagree with, both regarding theology and social teaching, and there are things that don't make sense to me-- I know that everything doesn't make sense, and that's where faith comes in, but there are things that still bother me. Still, I feel a real presence of God in my life. I see Christ in other people and in the world. My heart, at times, does feel as if it is ablaze. There are things that I can't wrap my head around and things that I simply don't think are in line with my own heart's convictions, but I still extract so much inspiration and strength from the story we tell on Sundays (and Wednesdays!), from the symbols we use to tell that story, and from my faith community.


I like this Gospel reading because it's about the here-and-now, about paying attention, about realizing what's going on inside of our own hearts and our own bodies-- and what that means for our faith. The followers of Jesus in the story were incredibly blind even as they walked with Christ, ate with him, and talked with him. They were so concerned about the details of the situation, the drama, the logistics. They were in business mode. This, after awhile, can numb or even kill your faith. I will never stop thinking critically about things, and I think that doubt is a healthy and beautiful part of faith. I don't feel like I have to buy or believe every single thing when it comes to the business/details side of being Catholic. What I think is most important is recognizing Christ when he's in front of me, whether that's in beautiful Mt. Hood or in the client across from me or in my Easter basket or in the orchid Jose gave me... and embracing the journey.


I think about my clients and their faith. They tell me "God bless you" all the time. They say they'll be at their scheduled meeting with me "God-willing." Usually, their faith doesn't come from intense study of doctrine or dogma. They may not have the most theologically sound understanding of what it means to be Catholic (or whatever). But it's real, and it's a faith derived from lived experiences, which to me is far more important and more inspiring. They're looking for God. They feel God in their lives. They have some kind of personal relationship with God, and maybe it's "simple," but that's OK too because all of the rules and technicalities can really bog you down and make you bitter if you think that being a person of faith is all about believing 100% of what is written in the Bible or in the Catechism. To these people I say, but do you see Christ when he's sitting next to you? Do you treat people with dignity and compassion and live out the Holy Thursday mandate to serve one another?


I want to share with you with a beautiful poem by Denise Levertov, one of my favorite poets. She was a convert to Catholicism because she found that it matched up with the values of justice and nonviolence she held as a peace activist during the Vietnam era and because she had already been quite religious in her written work, celebrating the sacredness of everyday via beautiful verses and prose. She liked the rich tradition of Catholicism and its concern for the marginalized, but she said herself that she rejected the hierarchy of the Church authority and the rigidness of the dogma. All of her life, she welcomed doubt and faith simultaneously, which made for some beautiful poetry and for a very real, but turbulent, relationship with her Creator.


One of my favorite poems from Levertov is a reflection on a painting by Spanish artist Diego Velázquez, circa 1628; the painting is called “Kitchen Maid with the Supper at Emmaus” and is now found in the National Gallery of Ireland in Dublin. Here's the painting, and below is Levertov's poem, "The Servant Girl at Emmaus (After a Painting by Velázquez)," in which she imagines the internal movements of the servant who, from another room, overhears the conversation Jesus has with the men from the road to Emmaus-- and instantly knows in her heart of hearts that this man is the Christ. This is a beautiful example of what it means to have an inward-out faith rather than a faith that we build from what we have been told. This girl, probably uneducated, marginalized, and pretty poor, doesn't need a Catechism to know what it takes the men until after Jesus' departure from them to know. She feels her heart burning within her, and despite all of the doubts and logistical details that she might be missing, she does not miss out on this genuine spiritual encounter.




"Kitchen Maid with the Supper at Emmaus"



The Servant Girl at Emmaus (After a Painting by Velázquez)


She listens, listens, holding


her breath. Surely that voice


is his—the one


who had looked at her, once, across the crowd,


as no one ever had looked?


Had seen her? Had spoken as if to her?


Surely those hands were his,


taking the platter of bread from hers just now?


Hands he’d laid on the dying and made them well?


Surely that face—?


The man they’d crucified for sedition and blasphemy.


The man whose body disappeared from its tomb.


The man it was rumored now some women had seen this morning, alive?


Those who had brought this stranger home to their table


don’t recognize yet with whom they sit.


But she in the kitchen, absently touching the wine jug she’s to take in,


a young Black servant intently listening,


swings round and sees


the light around him


and is sure.


-Denise Levertov


(You can read more of Denise's work from this particular volume, Breathing the Water, online. It's lovely!)


To be honest, I wasn't all that moved during Easter Mass. I was kind of distracted by all of the cute kids screaming and squealing (also an example of an encounter with God, right?). I loved Skyping with my family. I enjoyed the Easter Egg Hunt in the morning and opening the treats from the Wisconsin Easter Bunny and filling my stomach to the brim along with all of my housemates, Jose, and Colleen's family, who treated us to an unfathomably extensive brunch at Salty's on the river. The Paschal Mystery was just a little too much for me to wrap my head around and really get into on Easter Sunday. The pomp and circumstance was just a bit too distracting to me.


But Holy Thursday Mass was absolutely magnificent. I also attended St. Ignatius for that service, and the priest's homily was one of the most beautiful interpretations of the Last Supper/Washing of the Feet themes that I've ever heard. He spoke about the Passover and the relationship between our celebration and the pivotal feast celebrated by our Jewish brothers and sisters. This caught my attention because Jillian, my semi-Jewish housemate, recently put on an entire Seder meal for us, complete with bitter herbs and a cup of wine for Elijah. It was really a moving experience, even as we giggled through parts of it (four mandatory glasses of wine will do that to you!). On Holy Thursday, the priest reflected on that Passover story and on the Exodus and challenged all of us to think about what it is that we need to leave on the shores of our Red Sea-- be it sin, prejudice, or anger-- in our pursuit of freedom.


And then he transitioned into talking about love and compassion and service of one another (my favorite themes!), which he tied into a concrete example: immigration. This hit home. For many people who have come to our country in search of hope, the Rio Grande was their Red Sea (I thought that was absolutely gorgeous).We are called to treat every person, regardless of legal status, with dignity, he said. We are to be a community that welcomes and serves people of all sexual orientations, ethnic backgrounds, ages, creeds, etc., no questions asked.


When I had my feet washed by a beautiful girl who looked to be about 10-years-old and whose parents were most definitely not born in this country, I fought back tears. She was hesitant at first, glancing at my toenails and their chipped purple polish. And then, with a little prompting from an older lady monitoring our washing station, she lightly gripped my big, white foot and gently poured water over my toes. Then, one by one, she dried them with her towel, concentrating hard all the while and seemingly searching for serious meaning in my feet. I couldn't help but smile the entire time. Finally, she looked up at me with her huge brown eyes, and there are no words for the certain communion we shared in that moment.


That's what matters to me, and that's what I'm figuring out more and more as I try to keep my eyes peeled for the Divine while I walk my road to Emmaus, while I wash my dishes (like the servant girl), and while I celebrate this Easter season. He is risen indeed! He is in you and me and my orchids! :)


Credits:


Happy Birthday to you special April babies: Bethany, Nicki, Mom, Mara!


Thank you to those of you I've been able to chat with (or have made phone dates with!) recently. It is always so nice to hear your voices. Kelly,  Bridget, Katharine, Nicki, Jill, I love you all! Family: it was so great to Skype you all on Easter!


Finally, I am keeping several of you in my prayers in a special way: Katharine, Jilly, Molls and Mrs. Henry, and all of you 2011 graduates, know that I am sending much love your way!


Until soon,


Amanda

It's just that simple.

Hello, everyone.

I just want to write a quick post because it's Holy Thursday and because I am missing you all, especially my lovely family, as Easter draws nearer. In fact, the Easter Bunny seems to have already found her way to Gresham. We JV's are obeying the instructions and waiting until Sunday to open up the two boxes of goodies, of course.

Anyway, this is one of my favorite days in the Liturgical year, and it always causes me to stop and think. Holy Thursday brings us the Gospel reading in which Jesus washes his disciples' feet, the true example of humility and servitude. And he commands us to love one another-- so simple, and yet so complicated to live out sometimes! Still, I am moved by the profound straight-forwardness of this mandate (hence, "Maundy" Thursday for some, AKA my favorite Protestant, Katharine) to be compassionate toward one another. Love, after all, is what transforms us. When you look someone in the eye or listen to someone's story, it's difficult to ignore the fact that we share a common humanity, that we are connected, that we are all a part of the same web of life and Body of Christ. Love is dangerous in this way, but that's what Jesus calls us to.

On that note, I suggest you check out a beautiful blog entry my dear housemate Colleen wrote for her organization, JOIN. It's called "The Four Letter Word," and you will find it here: http://joinpdxblog.blogspot.com/

Finally, I spent some time today reflecting on and retelling a story from November. The point of the interaction I experienced with this client resonates on this special day. Again I am reminded of this "ministry of presence" that we can all live each day in our interactions with one another. Be there. Be present. Be humble. Be love. Sometimes, it's that simple.

I'll leave you with this reflection and a reminder that I love you, miss you, and am praying that you have a blessed and happy Triduum and Easter celebration. I hope to Skype some of you... and I can't wait to see what E.B. brings our community!

Love,

Amanda

The reflection:

This was definitely not in my job description.

It was only November, but similar thoughts had already crossed my mind several times during my first few months at Catholic Charities-El Programa Hispano. Still, I had never felt quite this under-qualified. With a stack of papers strewn across the desk in front of me and a broken-hearted man across from me, I wondered where to begin.

José's eyes were heavy and his forehead wrinkled in exhaustion and stress. Moments before, he had walked in to our drop-in center and told the receptionist that he needed some help "making phone calls." Now, in a matter-of-fact tone that I never could have mustered given the circumstances-- and perhaps this was an indicator that he himself had not yet internalized this news-- he informed me of his brother's death that very morning in a rollover car accident. It wasn't what I expected to hear, and if I had been giving José anything less than my full attention before that moment, I was certainly fully present now.

It's hard enough, when I'm speaking my first language, to know what to say in these situations-- how was I supposed to offer my condolences in Spanish? I felt disarmed and overwhelmed, but José exuded a remarkable feeling of serenity even on one of the most difficult days of his life. I took a deep breath and realized that there was no one else but me to help him at that moment. We would just have to figure it out.


I called the police to find out where the body of José's brother had been taken. I talked to his brother's employer to ask about the situation, since the death was a result of a work accident. I spoke with directors of various funeral homes to find out about the cost and logistics of shipping a body to Mexico. So that he would feel more comfortable, I arranged for an interpreter to go to a funeral home with José to take care of the arrangements. Meanwhile, he called abroad a few times to talk to his brother's wife, and he presented me with an ID and birth certificate for this brother I had never met, whose face, staring out at me from an Oregon driver's license, still haunts me.

At some point amidst this long and laborious process, I paused and put down the phone and my pen. I looked at José, not only my client but a man who had lost his brother that very day. And the only words I could produce in any language were simply "¿Cómo se siente, usted?"-- How are you feeling? His response was simple, too. He was tired. This was hard. But he was the only one in Oregon, the only family his brother had in this country. He would have to figure it out, despite his lack of preparedness or qualifications. In this, we were quite similar. And it was impossible to avoid the connection I felt with this man, whose heavy heart and weary eyes moved me and reminded me of our shared humanity and vulnerability.


The nature of my short-term intervention work is such that I rarely get a chance to follow up with clients' situations. But, much to my delight, José returned to my office a few weeks ago. He told me that everything had gone as smoothly as possible and that his brother's body had arrived safely to Mexico, where the family had a lovely ceremony. It had been an intensive process, José told me, but he was doing alright.


Advocating fiercely for my clients energizes me, and I get a certain fulfillment out of arguing with immigration officials, unjust landlords, and insurance companies. When my clients are being taken advantage of, I spring into action and I'm in my element. But sometimes, a situation calls for less intensity and stubbornness. I struggled with how to help José because he didn't necessarily need someone to fight the system for him; he just needed someone to walk through it with him, to be there for him, to ask him how he was holding up.


Our work as Jesuit Volunteers seeking to live out the values of social justice, community, spirituality, and simplicity is sometimes quite uncomplicated: just be present. There may well be someone else better suited to the task, but I was the one sitting with José that day; likewise, he was the one trying his best to make arrangements in the wake of his brother's death. In these situations, what else can we do but toss our burden, our perceived inadequacy, and our self-doubt on the table and slowly, together, begin sifting through it all in search of some small light?

April Showers Bring… More Showers.

April 10^th, 2011

First and foremost, a quick rant about the weather. Today, Jillian, Colleen, and I decided that there is a major Northwest Weather Conspiracy going on. Often, when the newspapers or the weather channels show the 10-day forecast, they show sun for Saturday and Sunday. We get through the rainy week by chasing that weekend sun. But as we draw nearer to and finally arrive at the weekend, we are met with more gray skies—or partly cloudy at best—and scattered showers. The elusive sun moves to Tuesday and Wednesday, and we chase it to mid-week, banking on that distant dose of Vitamin C to get us through the dull darkness. But when we get to Hump Day, we find ourselves getting rained on once again, and we check the forecast to see what has happened, only to notice that the sunny weather seems to have shifted to the weekend again.

And so it goes—we seem to be forever chasing the sun, forever being duped by these misleading reports of false hope and false sunshine. This is to say: it’s still raining here. Still. This is the sixth (seventh?) month of gray skies. Last Friday was the first clear day in FORTY-ONE DAYS. I am beyond ready for springtime, and although the daylight lasts until 7pm or so now, we haven’t seen temperatures out of the 50’s more than once or twice yet this year, and the skies are still overcast 90% of the time. I hope that spring has sprung wherever you are and I hope that it’s contagious!

Now, hello, friends and family! I must apologize for being a little absent these past few weeks. To quote America (from “Sister Golden Hair Surprise”), “I’ve been one poor correspondent, I’ve been too, too hard to find, but that doesn’t mean you ain’t been on my mind.” Indeed, you have been! And communicating with some of you has been absolutely wonderful as of late. I’ve appreciated g-chatting with Lizzie and Beth, making phone dates with Kelly and Bridget and Molly, and hearing from many of you via email and other social networking media.

We had a truly beautiful day at the beach!

I have much to report. Let’s start with José. In short, for all of you who are curious, we’re dating and it’s wonderful! (As Katharine pointed out, that won’t come as a shock. I didn’t realize I dropped his name about five times in my last post until she called me and said, “Alright, who’s this guy?” and told me that even her friend, reading over her shoulder, asked what was going on with this new character in Amanda’s blog.) We’ve had a lot of fun recently. A few weekends ago, we went whale-watching on the coast. Despite the fact that we saw no whales, we got lucky with the most beautiful day I’ve seen so far this “spring.” It was totally clear, very sunny, and pretty warm. We could see for miles, so it wasn’t visibility but rather lack of luck that prevented us from seeing the whales that were supposedly migrating past the Oregon coast that week. Equipped with Colleen’s binoculars and giddy with sunny joy, we patiently stared at the sparkling Pacific for about an hour until finally accepting that it wasn’t our day—for whales anyway. Still, a trip to the coast (especially on a day like that!) is never wasted.

The next weekend, we went on an even bigger adventure, this time to California! José had planned to surprise his mom on her birthday, and because I didn’t want him to drive fourteen hours on his own (and also because he promised me sunshine if I came along), I decided to skip out of work early on Friday and accompany him to Bakersfield. We had a smooth drive down and a wonderful weekend that included breakfast with several of his friends (pumpkin pancakes!!!!), a trip to L.A., and some quality time with his family.

The snuggle pods on the roof.

Los Angeles is definitely not somewhere I want to live, but I do think I owe it another visit in the future. We had about a half of a day there, but we made it to the Getty, a beautiful museum on a bluff that is accessible only by tram and boasts a beautiful view of the sprawling city and the downtown skyline. We also stopped at Santa Monica quickly and walked along the beach for a bit, which gave me a chance to toss off my shoes and wiggle my toes in the sand (and the chilly water!), always a delightful experience. We had dinner with José’s brother and his girlfriend and then did something sort of outrageous but quintessentially L.A: we paid $20 to access a rooftop bar where we found ourselves fourteen floors up, staring into the glistening windows of skyscrapers and sipping our drinks from the comfort of what we dubbed “snuggle pods” (waterbeds enclosed in a metal hut… that’s the best description I can come up with). It was pretty surreal and definitely not our usual scene, but worth experiencing!

Santa Monica

The next day, Sunday, was José’s mom’s birthday, so we made our way back to Bakersfield to surprise her—and his grandma, younger brother, and dad! It was so fun to see their faces and their reactions, and I felt very lucky to have been invited to come for the weekend. Everyone was so welcoming, warm, and sweet, and José was a great host. I always felt completely comfortable and I loved his family…and his backyard, where they seem to have every type of fruit you could want, just growing from trees! Anyway, fourteen hours later we found ourselves back in rainy Oregon, and after four hours of sleep I headed to work on Tuesday morning and toughed it out, sleepy but grateful for the amazing weekend adventure! It's kind of funny to me that just as I hit a bit of a rut and was kind of restless and in need of a new challenge or something of the sort, I met José, who really makes me think and supports me and has added so much to the richness of this entire experience.

Anyway! Other upcoming adventures in my life include: a trip to Daniel’s grandparents’ cabin this weekend (in Washington), which will be a really nice chance to relax and spend some quality time together as a community; Holy Week; volunteering at the Spring Beer and Wine Festival; going to Eat Mobile and sampling food from forty of Portland’s famous food carts; Easter brunch with Colleen’s family (I’m seeing a theme here!); a trip to Spokane, WA that will include Bloomsday, a 12k run; a Cinco de Mayo party at our house; and a visit from Mom and Brittany in late May. Lots to look forward to in the next month or so!

I have also recently accepted a position to work in Milwaukee at Casa Romero when I return. I’m planning to live with Molly on the east side and then work at this south-side retreat and renewal center, where I interned senior year of college. My job will include facilitating and organizing middle school retreats, coordinating a program called EMMAUS which gives high school students a chance to hear from college students studying in various fields in order to foster vocational discernment and pre-college reflection, working on some urban plunge projects for high schools or universities that approach us and ask for this new program, and doing some work on a newsletter and possibly some grant writing. Essentially, it’s awesome. And they’re open to my working less than full-time so that I have a chance to volunteer or shadow somewhere and get some experience in a legal setting as I continue to think about law school. Finally, they’re okay with my commitment being a bit temporary (9 months to a year) because I don’t think I can promise to be in Wisconsin any longer than that, especially if I decide to go to school. At the very least, I can guarantee that the cold will run me out of the state again!

In many ways, I am thrilled to be coming back. It will be so nice to be close to my family and to be back at Casa and living with Molly. There is so much that I miss! I’ve been thinking a lot about all of this and reflecting heavily on this Casa opportunity, but I also recognize that I still have a few months here, that this is such a unique opportunity too, and that I need to really reinvest because it’s going to FLY by. I want to stay present, and I’m doing my best. Thinking about leaving is exciting but it’s bittersweet because I do really enjoy this area, I love my housemates, and I’ll certainly miss my job. Today, Graciela (who comes to help with our group of seniors every Wednesday) gave me a hug while I was typing ferociously and basically tuning everybody around me out. She asked me what my plans were and if I had heard back about the job at Casa, and I filled her in. She was so happy for me. The fact that she paused from her work and asked about that—that she remembered—reminded me that there are so many people I love and will miss. And it reminded me to be present at work because there are beautiful people like Graciela who are oh-so-present to me. So, I always feel pulled in many different directions. I’m trusting the decision I made early on, though (to return to Milwaukee for a year or so) because it was made from a very good, solid place and I felt—and still feel—very at peace with it.

As for the here-and-now: we’ve had various dinner dates with Anthony, Jim and Mary Ann, and Karen and Dave—all very fun and delicious. I made stuffed peppers... very adventurous! We’re also doing a “date a housemate” system that entails our going on one-on-one “dates” with every housemate over our next few months together. Daniel and I were paired together first, and we enjoyed a lovely lunch at my favorite place, Selma’s (conveniently and dangerously located about thirty seconds from my office). I now have two weeks to woo Jenna! I like this new idea because it allows me to spend some time with housemates with whom it doesn’t happen as naturally, and it’s nice to be intentional about these things, especially now that our lives have gotten busier and fuller. It was easy to be together all of the time when none of us had anything going on in this area, but now we’ve got different extracurriculars and friends and boyfriends and all sorts of things to balance. Over time, our community has certainly evolved. We’ve stumbled here and there. But all in all, I’ve been impressed by the open and honest communication in our house and by everyone’s consideration of and commitment to one another. It has been a wonderful experience and I hope that we can continue to be there for one another throughout the rest of our year.

On a different note: tonight was my second-to-last youth ministry session, and I must say… I have gotten pretty attached to these 8^th-graders. Particularly one girl, Sami, and I’ll ask that you keep her in your prayers. For weeks, during our “check-in” (what was the best part of your week? What was the worst part of your week? Where did you see God this week?) Sami talked about her mom’s upcoming visit to her school. Her mom, who she doesn’t’ see very much, would be there for Sami’s 8^th grade speech. Her mom would finally be meeting Sami’s friends at school. The excitement made it pretty clear to me that Sami’s mom hasn’t been entirely present in her life but that this little girl is desperately seeking a relationship with this woman. I hoped and hoped that things would turn out, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach that something was going to go wrong.

When Sami couldn’t make it to youth ministry two weeks ago, she sent a note along with her brother to deliver to me. She had done her check-in on paper and addressed it to me. Her high point was something about going to Seattle and having fun there. Her God point was doing well on some school assignments. Eighth-grade stuff. Cute. But her low points were that her friend was having seizures—and that her mom had missed the big school visit because she’s moving to a different state. I almost started crying when I read it, and my heart just sank. I wrote back. The next week, Sami was there, and I asked her how she was doing. I gave her a hug and she cried in my arms. And something occurred to me: this, I thought, is why I do this.

I worry sometimes that the kids aren’t taking everything in. They don’t always pay attention or participate as much as I wish they did. They’re not all interested in this stuff. Some of them are wise beyond their years (Sami, for example), and others—though I love them—are a handful (Ricky). But if they don’t remember anything I’ve said this year, I hope that they remember me. I hope that they remember me as some kind of positive role model for them. As a person who cared about them and shared her faith with them and encouraged them in theirs. And when I held Sami while she cried quietly, I was reminded of what’s really important about ministering to these kids—and to the people I work with. Being a vessel. A broken one, perhaps, but a vessel nonetheless, and allowing God to work in me.  

This is the same situation at work, too. I recently got a chance to reunite with the guy whose brother died back in November (the one who needed help shipping the body to Mexico and organizing a funeral, essentially). It was amazing to be able to see how he’s doing and to help him with a few more things related to this situation that has been so challenging and exhausting and emotional for him and his family. He’s really been strong and organized, and he’s inspiring to me. I rarely get a follow-up chance like that because of the nature of my job and our drop-in set-up, but I was so grateful for the chance to catch up with him and to remind myself once again that it isn’t always about having all of the answers or executing things perfectly. Sometimes, it’s about being there for somebody and realizing that you CAN’T do that completely or perfectly, but if you let God in on that interaction too, you might recognize that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—and you’ll stop asking “why me?” and just be there. Here, a quote that José sent me about this “ministry of presence” as it relates to our work (and our lives). I’ll leave you with the wise words of Henri Nouwen:

"More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time to practice this simple ministry of presence. Still, it is not as simple as it seems.

My own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups, and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn't be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them."

Have a very wonderful rest of the week and a prayerful Holy Week, friends. I hope that you’re able to make it special. I am going to miss being home for this week and for Easter, but I am grateful to have a warm and loving community with whom I’ll spend the holiday. Easter is so dear to me because it’s the time when all of our family gathers at our house (and I DO love the food! And the Easter Egg Hunt!) and because it’s so crucial to my Catholic identity. But now I also remember Easter in Chile—that terrible production of “Jesus Christ Superstar” we saw, the wonderful homily at Mass, the delicious brunch we made at Lizzie’s!—and I realize that, even when I can’t be at home, things work out. God provides a community and a home for me wherever I am, and all of those experiences just build on one another and enrich the meaning of Easter for me every year.

I’m missing you, sending love, and hoping you’re doing well. Update me if you haven’t! I’d love to hear from you, and know that I am keeping you in my prayers and thoughts. Especially you, Ken, Peg, and Beth.

Love,

Amanda