There Must Be Something Else

Pam and her good friend, Rev. Amy Sandlin sit down to talk about her hospice work, faith in something greater than ourselves, and how to find hope in the unknown. Amy brings a lot of knowledge to the conversation, with a background in the airforce, as a police officer and detective, and now with a Masters in Psychology.


ABOUT AMY SANDLIN:

She went into the air-force right out of high school. When she returned she went to the police academy, worked the patrol, became a detective in undercover narcotics, and then spent the majority of her career covering sexual assault crimes, mainly in children. After retiring from the police force Amy went back to school to get her Masters in Psychology. This time, she felt called to be on the healing side for children. 

When Amy started her own family she decided to stop working. She grew up without her mom, so knew the importance of being present with her children. Years later she got the call to become an Elder in her church, which would later lead to Seminary where we met and quickly became friends. She now works as a Pastor at two churches and as a Hospice Chaplin.

When we sat down together in late January of this year to record the podcast, There Must Be Something Else, neither of us knew a Pandemic was about to unfold or how many people would be suffering the unimaginable loss of loved ones.

Pam believes that there is something else beyond this life experience, something much more beautiful than this, a place with light where there is freedom and abundant love for all of us.

BOOK: Henri Nouwen - TWINS IN THE WOMB

Twins are talking to each other in the womb.  The sister said to the brother, “I believe there is life after birth.”  Her brother protested vehemently, “No, no, this is all there is. This is a dark and cozy place, and we have nothing else to do but to cling to the cord that feeds us.” The little girl insisted, “There must be something more than this dark place. There must be something else, a place with light where there is freedom to move.” Still she could not convince her twin brother.

After some silence, the sister said hesitantly, “I have something else to say, and I’m afraid you won’t believe that, either, but I think there is a mother.” Her brother became furious. “A mother!” he shouted. “What are you talking about?” I have never seen a mother, and neither have you. Who put that idea in your head? As I told you, this place is all we have. Why do you always want more?. This is not such a bad place, after all. We have all we need, so let’s be content.”

The sister was quite overwhelmed by her brother’s response and for a while didn’t dare say anything more. But she couldn’t let go of her thoughts, and since she only had her twin brother to speak to, she finally said, “Don’t you feel these squeezes every once in a while? They’re quite unpleasant and sometimes even painful.” “Yes,” he answered. “What’s special about that?” “Well”, the sister said, “I think that these squeezes are there to get us ready for another place, much more beautiful than this, where we will see our mother face-to-face. Don’t you think that’s exciting

Source | Henri Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift, A Meditation on Dying and Caring (Harper One, 2009) pages 18-19.

Pam Rotelle Robertson