A Rose by Any Name

"I like people who teach me things." Rose Allen Kraft

I believe in signs. I see them everywhere. I like to think God sprinkles little breadcrumbs for us to follow, but most of us rarely take the time to notice them. One day about 5 years ago, I was driving down a dirt road in Tumalo, Oregon when God sent me a sign I couldn't ignore. I stopped in front a view that took my breath away. I could feel my heart expand to take it in. I called Jeff and said I'd found our dream property. Never mind that it wasn't for sale, never mind that we couldn't afford a farm. I believed in the sign, and oh what a sign it turned out to be. Rose Allen Kraft was nearing 90 when we first met her and asked whether she might like to sell us her farm. It was love at first sight. Rose and her late husband had been teachers who took year-long sabbaticals and traveled the world. She taught school in Afghanistan, wrote the Ugandan Girl Scout's Manual, and most recently traveled along the Siberian Railroad at the age of 92. She became my role model, my surrogate grandmother, and one of my true soul mates. Grandma Rose passed away a week ago today. At 94, she decided she'd had enough. As I embark on my journey back to Uganda, I can feel her presence urging me onward, "God gave you wings so you could fly," she once told me. She also reminded me that Jeff is the one who tends the nest while I am away. So I am flying away and Jeff is home tending the nest, which now includes the 40 acre Rose Allen Ranch where I received one of the greatest God-given gifts of my lifetime, Rose. I dedicate this trip to you, Rose. Thank you for teaching me so many things.


Roseisms...
I never kicked a door down, but if it was open, I walked through it.
Don’t judge a culture by their plumbing.
I’m long suffering, but when I’ve had enough, you know it.
There is great wisdom among all people...seek it out.
Love everyone – don’t leave anyone out.

You Gotta Have Faith

" I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be." Douglas Adams

As a yoga teacher, I often tell my students to set intentions. As a mother, I often tell my children to act with good intentions. As a person, I often think, "that was not my intention at all." There was a time in my life when I seemed intent only on reaching total self-destruction. I thank God everyday that I didn't get there. So, how did I get here instead of there? Who set this intention for my life? Who's driving this car anyway? God, My Higher Self, My Guardian Angel, some haloed stunt car driver? I don't have a definitive answer. I think that's where faith comes in. Though I may not be where I intended to be, I have faith that I am right where I am supposed to be. I also have faith that I am headed in the right direction. In two days, that direction is Uganda, a place that my heart's compass seems determined to point me towards. The past month has tested my faith in this compass. Could it be broken? Perhaps it is supposed to be pointing towards the South of France instead. I've actually asked God a few times whether he/she is testing my faith or my stupidity. Each time an obstacle is put in my path, I wonder whether it is a sign to turn around or find the strength to go forward despite all obstacles. I am stubborn by birth, it is part of my DNA much like Coca Cola, Crawfish Boils, Quarter Horses, Willie Nelson, World Travel, and Helping Others. I thank my parents for all of it---even the stubbornness. I choose to think stubbornness is just another word for faith. I have got faith, and so I keep moving forward to Uganda, a place where I am intended to go. And in two weeks, I have faith that I will end up back where I am intended to return...with my family and friends.
Until then, Keep the faith y'all.

The Blog Goes On....

Hello everyone.
I am heading back to Uganda in 10 days. Stay tuned...
Love, Amanda

Tiny Drops

"We may think that what we are doing is a drop in the ocean; but the ocean would be less without that drop." Mother Theresa

In February, I visited New Hope Children's Center where 153 orphaned children live along the shores of Lake Victoria. I held Patience's hand as she showed me her dormitory, a large dark room with triple bunk beds cramming every inch of floor space. Each bed had a small metal trunk at its foot. One small metal trunk held everything Patience owned in this world. I knew then that I would do the best I could to fill not only her trunk, but her heart, mind, and body as well. This week, I opened an email with photos of the children at New Hope receiving their new school uniforms. It may be a tiny drop, but it made my heart feel full. We will be visiting New Hope again in May. I hope to spread more tiny drops. I invite you to join me. Visit my website for more information: www.witnessyourworld.com.

Much Love, Amanda

The Language of Dreams

I heard a writer from Queens being interviewed on NPR recently. He said he had tried to write stories about other places but, somehow, it just never felt right. "I daydream in Queens," he said. That simple statement struck a chord deep down inside me. I may live day to day in the mountains of Central Oregon, but I daydream in the South. In fact, most of my dreams have southern accents. I dream of pep rallies and football games, cyprus and magnolias. The South haunts me even in my sleep.
I spent quite a few years trying to pull up my roots. I remember my first few classes at Southern Oregon State when I painfully tried to hide my southern drawl behind a thinly veiled "You Guys." I have thankfully reinstated "Y'all" into my vocabulary. I have come to the realization that we may grow and bloom in many locales, but only if we honor and care for our roots.

I am (finally) proud to say that I am a Wanderlust at Heart, but a Southerner in my Soul. My road has been long and winding from Monroe, Louisiana to Bend, Oregon, with sidetracks here, there, and everywhere in between. I have searched the wide world over for something I had all along---my self. I will continue to wander the world, only now, I can truly say I am not lost.

Where are you roots? What language do you dream in? Have you spent any time with your self lately?

Sweet Dreams Y'all,
Amanda

Flight School

"All Things Want to Fly"
R.M. Rilke

Two days ago, my seven-year-old daughter broke her elbow. She is now proudly strutting the hallways of her elementary school with a neon pink cast. I feel sure that the novelty will wear off and the tedium will set in, but we can safely reassure her that her wing will heal and she will fly again---perhaps she can just work on the landing. The whole experience has got me thinking about flight. I love the Rilke quote from above. I can think of all the times in my life when I have longed to feel the wind beneath my wings---riding my horse Sparky as fast as his pinto pony legs would carry us, skiing in a tuck all the way down Strawberry Hill, riding my yellow Schwinn straight down the levee onto Myrtle Street. I'm not sure exactly when I lost it; all I know is that, at some point along the way, I lost my will to fly. I became a flightless bird, a big chicken. I lost my faith in myself. There is no neon pink cast to help that heal.

It has taken years for me to return to the tarmac, but I am once again flight-ready. This time, the joy I get from helping others is what lifts me off the ground. We all have to find what it is that lifts us up. Then we have to spread our wings and take that leap of faith. I work with teen girls because I want them to feel what it's like to rise up to their potential. This week, I asked them a few questions that I want to pose to you as well:

What great thing would you attempt if you knew you couldn't fail?
What is your special gift and how can you share it with others?
What impact do you want to have on the world?

We all have the desire to fly. What are you waiting for?
See you in the wild blue yonder,
Amanda