Well, these last few weeks have been full… of emotion, activities, and hope. I ended up going back to work for my dear elderly friend. Her condition was found to be shockingly dire, and I was hired for the time being.

A little over a week ago I met with a woman from my church who heard me speak on my journeys with the Birth Attendant School. She had been in the first service, which was a wee bit difficult for me, as I had not yet shared my stories with a large group, or seen my pictures on such a large screen… it was as if it was real again. As I tried to sum up my year in ten minutes I began to cry. This woman approached me afterwards and asked if I was interested in sitting down and talking with her about what I had seen, and what I had done. I was grateful to discover that she was a hospice nurse, and had plenty of experience counseling people through hard things. Weeks turned into a month, and we finally made a date for breakfast just to get to know each other. We enjoyed eggs, toast and coffee over wonderfully sweet small talk about life. As I sat there listening to this woman, I realized just how thankful I was for a new friend. Our conversation ended with a beautifully brilliant revelation. She told me that I will always be a midwife. It may not always mean I am delivering babies, but I will always be a midwife. She told me that a midwife is a person who labours with someone until the point of delivery, whether through birth, through trial, or through death. My mind began to unfold; my body relaxed, my heart began to mend, and the universe began to settle. This is who I am. I am a midwife.

Later that day I sat with a dying woman, speaking to her with the same voice I spoke to my delivering mothers with. As I cooled her with a damp wash cloth, I held my face close to hers and sang softly. If I would have closed my eyes for even a moment I would have found myself back in GMH, singing, calming, loving, a labouring woman. I sat at my friend’s side for a long while, holding her hand and pining over how incredible life truly is. As I stared at her face, I realized that I had made a dear friend in the small amount of time I was with her, and that this friendship was healing to me. She so graciously reminded me of who I am, and who I am to be. A midwife. My dear friend passed away soon after and will be remembered by all who knew her as a wonderfully warm, kind woman.

I am now a nanny for some dear friends of mine. I have so enjoyed the company of there two little ones and appreciate the beautifully flexible schedule… not to mention the encouraging talks Lealah and I inevitably have when she gets home from work. She’s been a large part of my “growing up”, and I respect her greatly.

I have continued to enjoy spending time with my family, and being back home. I have connected back with some of my cousins, who I never really knew growing up. We lost our grandma the first time I was in India, and my uncle, their father the second time I was there. I have really enjoyed getting to know them, and having someone to share my funny stories with, people who truly understand my family. I’ve made some extra gas money by painting fences and cleaning out garages. I’ve been reading The Chronicles of Narnia again and have found they are everything I need right now.

This past Saturday I woke up singing a friend’s song.

“I need to see things from a mountain view, cause it’s so hard, when you’re in the middle of it all…”

With that, Amy and I decided to go on a camping trip to Big Sur just a few hours north, up the coast from us. The first night we stayed in this little makeshift campsite right outside of San Simeon. We parked on the side of the road and had to hike back to it. The clearing we chose was very secluded, and very beautiful. We found a nice spot to set up our tent, and did so with only the smallest of hitches... The ground was so soft from all of the pine needles, and proved to be one of the most comfortable grounds I have ever slept on. We laughed, we played cards, we read out loud to each other, and we jumped every half an hour at mysterious sounds in the dark, cold bushes. The morning came after a wonderful sleep and to greet the day we hiked through massive amounts of poison oak to the ocean. It was so beautiful.

As the morning grew later we decided to drive on up through the Red Woods to Big Sur. No matter how many times I drive Highway 1 it never ceases to amaze me. It’s incredibly beautiful. We made it to the camp ground just in time to get an open site; apparently someone else had just cancelled. It was right by the river, and ridiculously priced, but beautiful. We set up camp, got our bathing suits on and headed down to the river bank. We tried to swim, but failed miserably, as the water temperature must have been just above freezing. After our swim we ate lunch, and after lunch we took a nap, and after our nap we took a hike. It was a beautiful hike through Red Woods up to a water fall. The ground was covered in ferns, and the path lined with massive trees and lush greenery. In the middle of it all, I found it hard to understand why I wanted a new cell phone.

We went back to camp and searched high and low for fire wood. It was pretty amazing to go to the land for resources needed, it felt so right. We enjoyed our dinner of bread, cheese, and grapes, and built a warm, comforting fire. We sat there for a long while starring at the flames, listening to the sounds of fellow campers, and of the river. The huge Red Woods stood towering over us, and we couldn’t help but wonder what else they had seen over their many years.

We rose early, packed up, and enjoyed the best breakfast burrito I’ve ever had. After we were full and content we set off home, though I wasn’t quite ready to return. We drove as we talked, and talked as we drove, about a good deal of things. The most important to me however was about pride. I told her about how good it felt to not have showered in 3 days, and to be wearing the same clothes… liberating really. She told me that when I returned from India Danielle had said I looked nothing like she’d thought I’d look after such a journey. She said I was fancy, and wore make up. I laughed at this, as I surprised myself at my returning. I thought about why this might have been, and was quite saddened by my reasoning. I think growing up in America, especially in California, so much of my identity is found in what I look like. This has been a war within me for years now. I have done many things to try to bring peace, but I fear it is still raging. It must have been sparked by the fact that for one year I didn’t have the clothes, or the means to define myself the way I saw fit. I was made to blend in. Amy and I talked about why we try to look pretty or dress cool, and our answer was simply- “To elevate ourselves.” I thought about how at the bottom of it all I am terrified of blending in, of being ordinary, unnoticed, invalidated. I was almost brought to tears at this discovery, and felt nauseous almost immediately. This blog is amazing… a vulnerable little public display of my thoughts, struggles, trials, and lessons. I hate and love to say that I have been wrong in my motives and saddened by my selfishness. Not because I try to look cool, but more because I thought more about myself than I ought to have. I do not want to be defined by what I look like, but by what Christ looks like through me. And with that I say, on ward… to a better, simpler, more loving life. For by choosing to clear my cluttered life of “things”, I am choosing to make more room for the one I love most, and for this beautiful kingdom.

My brother and my sister- my equal.

Forgive me.

If you have ever liked anything I’ve owned, ask me for it and I will try to send it to you.

“Charm is deceitful and beautiful is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” Proverbs 31:30

It's funny that I love working with people who are leaving the world, and people who are entering it... both could care less about what I look like. And that... that is a beautiful thing.
Nuns really do know what they are doing...