A Friendship Blessing

A Friendship Blessing

May you be blessed with good friends.
May you learn to be a good friend to yourself.
May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where
there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness.
May this change you.
May it transfigure that which is negative, distant, or cold in you.
May you be brought in to the real passion, kinship, and affinity of belonging.
May you treasure your friends.
May you be good to them and may you be there for them; may they bring you all the blessings, challenges, truth,
and light that you need for your journey.
May you never be isolated.
May you always be in the gentle nest of belonging with your anam cara. 

By John O'Donohue


"May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness." 

The idea of journeying to a place in my soul is one that jumps out at me today.  This has been and continues to be a great summer.  Journey seems to be a theme that I have been able to play with a lot.  Until recently, journey always was something that I read about, reflected on in a metaphorical way, or just plain wondered about.   Recently I returned from a trip to Ireland.  The journey began long before the plane left the ground and continues to move me. 

Words have become one of those things that I love to play with and continue to peak my curiosity.  In seminary we were encouraged to take Greek and Hebrew so that we could really see and play with language.  I could not do everything, so that was not one of the areas that I was able to tackle but wonder if I might some day.  But, today I just went to a dictionary, and wanted to look at what the word journey really means.  This is what I found:

a. The act of traveling from one place to another; a trip.

b. A distance to be traveled or the time required for a trip: a 2,000-mile journey to the Pacific; the three-day journey home.

2. A process or course likened to traveling; a passage: the journey of life.

v. jour·neyed, jour·ney·ing, jour·neys

To make a journey; travel.

This was found on a Free dictionary site on the web.  Moving from one place to another, traveling in time and space, and yet, so much of my life I wonder if the longest journeys haven't been within me.

"May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth, feeling and forgiveness."

 As far away as Ireland is and seemed, without doubt this is the longest journey of all.  A life of faith invites us to a way of being that is both very personal and very much in community.  Each of us is called to this in different ways.  One of the things that continues to surface as a challenge for me is to keep these in balance.

 When we are on any journey we need to know who we are and what we need.  Packing all the right things is one of the first challenges.  This is especially true in this day and age of flying and being charged for everything, it seems.  What are the proper shoes? How many cloths should you bring and what kinds of cloths will you need or want in my case?  Be sure to have the  proper medications, and of course, any hygiene products that feel like a must.  Are you a person that can go, go, go, and never need any down time?  Or are you a person that wants to see, learn and experience things, but also need some time to let it sink in?  Do you make meaning in your world by talking to people and making different experiences thought connection?  Or is it possible to feel like you can blend into the scenery and come to know the place form the inside out? 

As I learn more about journey, I am learning to be more gentle on myself and more inquisitive about who I am.  We spend many years of our lives trying to change and perhaps improve who we are.  This is important and fundamental to growing up.  But I am coming to know that in that growing process, a key element is meeting oneself, as if meeting an old and special friend.  Think of someone in your life that you love and respect, not in a casual way, but in that way that comes from experience or knowing that they really are someone "important" to you.  When I do this, I do not think of that person's shortcomings, or ways that that person could or should change.  I think of the ways that I feel genuine love and caring for that person.  I think of things they have said or done that have changed or influenced who I am.  I think of things that I have learned and loved because of knowing them. 

"May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness."

What would it be like to think of ourselves in that light?  What would it be like to think of that place within us, that place we could call the soul, as a place of great love, great warmth, a place that the journey can either originate from or can be the destination. 

Faith is a lifetime journey, one that is never stagnant, one that is always full of surprises.  My prayer today is that we can honor different aspects of this path.  John O"Donohue says, "Prayer is the act and presence of sending this light from the bountifulness of your love to other people to heal, free, and bless them.  When there is love in your life, you should share it spiritually with those who are pushed to the very edge of life.  There is a lovely idea in the Celtic tradition that if you send out goodness from yourself, or if you share that which is happy or good within you, it will all come back to you multiplied ten thousand times.  In the kingdom of love there is no competition; there is no possessiveness or control." 

Today as I write, I honor the journey within, the journey that is our path of faith and truth.  It is important for all of us to continue to know and articulate that journey that leads to that place of love, warmth and forgiveness.  Today is important to remember that it is from that place that God can most effectively speak.  It is from that place that we can most effectively hear God.  Today I am reminded that the journey can be many things, can move in many directions, and always makes life interesting. 

"May you be able to journey to that place in your soul were there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness." 

Today I give thanks for the journey that is life and God's grace in it all.

What is a Spiritual Person?

A question that was posed to me today could seem like
a simple one, but when I let my mind wander I
was yet again suprised where it went.  I pose the
question to you.

Think about the images that come to mind when
you think about who you are as a
spiritual person.  What pictures do you see?
What stories come to mind? 

When I think about myself as a spiritual person today my mind wanders back to a time in my life when I did a lot of guided meditation. This was a time in my life where I was very focused on healing. It seems really unimportant today what I was healing from and more important that I was so passionate about the journey.

One of the places that I would go in my mind was this very peaceful place on Kesar Lake. Our family had a plot of land right on the water. My then husband and I spent some of our most wonderful time there. It was an old broken down building. No plumbing, no electricity, no phones, no internet. It had been let go for many years. My grandfather had loved this place and it was his fishing cabin. As a young married couple we had very little, but we both loved the idea of getting away. We both knew very little about what peace or contentment felt like. We lived in a busy world and had very busy minds. We would go and camp at this place.

Many afternoons I spent cleaning out the very old kitchen and living space. Nature had taken over as the years had gone by. This was a wooden structure and the windows were old and there was no insolation. This was an old fashioned fishing cabin. The kitchen had a wonderful large farmer’s sink with a pump. It was a rich black color and had lived through much. There were cupboards that were still filled with old dishes. Today we would call it china. Much of it was cracked and dirty, but through the dust, you could see pink roses, and green leaves. Cracks splinted out from points of origin that one will never know about. Yet, pilled high were dinner plates, cups, saucers, serving dishes, and other random items that were undoubtly used to serve meals at one time. What was the story behind these dishes? Who had eaten these meals?

One of the most wonderful parts of this cabin was the wraparound porch. This was a large and screened in area where many hours could be spent. There was room for a table, chairs and seemed to be calling out for rocking chairs. This was one of the first areas that we cleaned out and made usable. We fixed the screens and put boards up over then so that we could begin the process of protecting this treasure from the wildlife and the elements. It felt magical to sit in the rocking chairs, listen to the loons out on the lake and play cards. We would use lanterns and kerosene.

Why does this flood back as I try to answer a question about being a spiritual person? Life was hard at this time, but there was something wonderful about the peace of new love. There was something wonderful about sharing this journey with someone else. It was so peaceful and at times exciting to explore a new place, a place that was full of history and yet could be an open canvas of new possibilities. I think for both of us we also felt very in touch with God there. The distractions of our daily lives felt far away. The pressures of our lives and the expectations that we were trying to figure out, could rest.

Waking in the morning was a wonderful time. I say this not because I ever like waking up from a wonderful, peaceful, deep sleep. I say this because if you have ever seen the mist rise up over a lake, only to expose the light dancing off the water, you know what I mean. I have a photograph somewhere, which is in my mind’s eye right now. Danny was in a canoe, all by himself, maybe our golden retriever was with him, but I don’t see him. He was heading out on the lake in the fog. Peace, quiet, grace, these are words that come to mind when I see that image.

We built a dock that made it possible to sit out on the lake and watch the sun come up and watch it go down. The water was so clear that you could see the rocks at the bottom of the lake. It was cold and yet more refreshing than any place I can remember.

Each Sunday night we would pack up our van with all our things. Each time leaving a few more items of our own, and head home to the world that was waiting. As I remember these times today I remember feeling fresh, new, ready for the week ahead. The water, the sleep, the smell of the fire, and the fresh cooked food, all felt like a form of nourishment it was hard to get anywhere else.

I discovered this place after I was married, but also after my mother passed away. I knew that it had been a big bone of contention in my family. There were those that wanted to sell this property, and my mother never did. Yet, we never went there, and never spent any time there. I do believe that for my mother this place was in some way representative of unfulfilled dreams, of a time gone by that she would never know. In some ways looking back now it may have become the same for me.

During the year after we had found this place, my father was offered a large amount of money for the property. He knew of our new found love of the place and our desire to over the years make it our own. All I can remember is begging him not to sell it. But as we all know, sometimes in life we don’t always know what the bigger picture is. Or we are unable to change another’s thoughts or behavior. My dad sold the property anyway. It was one of those big losses that I can still feel as I write this. It was clearly not mine to hold, but the images and experience of Grace stay with me today.

Ahh, but that is not the story here. Over the years when I go to meditation and feel like I want to go to a special place in my soul, this is where I go. In my mind’s eye, I can see the lake as it stretches out before me. Sometimes I feel like a small child in overalls and high top red sneakers. Sometimes I feel like the woman I have become. Today that woman can discover that peace and contentment in the world around her. When she can’t she knows how to step away, how to remove herself from the world long enough to refresh her soul and spirit. Today when I think of who I am as a spiritual person, I can see the young girl with the high top sneakers walking hand in hand with a woman, a loving, compassionate, strong, smart and faithful woman. Today I can know that with all the brokenness that is part of being human, with all the challenges that make up the story of my life, I know that God has been my companion all along the way. God is there the days I feel more like the child and we can be very playful, and encourages and empowers me as the woman that can’t wait to tell the world about how absolutely amazing God really is.

Sometimes in our journey there are places and times that we can go back to that remind us of who we are and where we came from. Sometimes those same places can be touchstones for our lives in faith. Today, I give thanks and remember that camp. I give thanks for my time there and my grandfather whose spirit lived there. Where are places in your life that you can see when you close your eyes, those places that remind you of the ever present love of God?

Seize the Day

"In the silence of your hearts or in spoken words let us give thanks for the gift of this day and pray for the life of the world..."  J. Philip Newell

Recently I have taken up a new hobby.  Actually it is one that my mother tried to have me appreciate as a young child.  I am learning to play the piano.  

In our living room growing up we had a baby grand piano.  It was black and the piano bench held sheets of wonderful music.  But what I remember is that I loved to pick up the cover of this bench and let it slam shut.  Not hard, not enough to hurt anything, but surly enough to bother my mother.  The keys were tarnished over time and were a worn ivory color.  It was fun to sit on the bench and pretend that I could play beautiful music.  

My mother set up piano lessons with a Mr. Petillio.  He taught music on the campus of the school where we lived.  He was from Europe and had a very curious accent for a young girl.  In all fairness to this man, I don't think he was used to young children.  It is also important to note, no pun intended, that I was not a child with a long attention span.  As hard as I try, I have very little recollection of these lessons.  What I do remember is the regular arguing with my mother about practicing.  Siting in the passenger seat of our family car, driving up the driveway, knowing that I didn't know my lesson, was never fun.  Yet week after week, I would be relieved that that lesson was over and approach it exactly the same the upcoming week.  Needless to say, I never became a gifted musician.  At some point he must have convinced my mother that this was not working.  

Sometimes in life, it is so funny to look back.  Many of us spend a lot of time reflecting so that we can come to know ourselves better.  Healing and coming to terms with a difficult past involves remembering these events, telling the story and looking at ways to move on from  those places of brokenness and move into our lives today.  This is important work and very sacred ground.  But sometimes I find it really funny to look back at those times when life was funny, or I was mischievous, or even think, Wow, how did I miss that? 


Playing the piano is one of my favorite things to do these days.  I love to practice, I love to learn a new cord, a new song, or a new way of doing something.  I love the work I do. It is a blessing to know how God can best use your gifts and talents in the world.  My life has meaning and purpose.  But all that said it is very hard for me to play.  I am silly and often joyful.  The time I experience that most is during worship.  But I want to be able to play, be silly and relax outside of my work.  Ahhhhhh,  this is where the piano comes in.  

"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.  From now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face.  Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.  And now fatih, hope and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love." 

1 Cor. 13:11-13 

Music is one of the ways that many are able to pray, play or grieve.  Music speaks to our hearts and our souls. It can sooth us, comfort us, it speaks to us in ways nothing else does.   Children experience faith on a very simple and authentic level.  As we grow older we gather defenses and ideas that complicate and confuse the way we experience the world.  Yes, it also informs the way we see the world, but sometimes don't we get in the way?

Going back to the piano at this point in my life has been a blessing.  It is a time of meditation and peace.  It can also be a time of fun and playfulness.  It is good to grow and learn.  I am no longer the child that cannot sit still.  The child that just couldn't find the discipline amidst the turmoil in my home to learn new things.  Today I smile when I look back and see her squirming on the piano bench, Today I have compassion for her desire to play and her complete inability to learn.  Today it is she that gathers her books and hurries to her lesson.  She hurries to her lesson with expectation and excitement.  

For some life is short, for some life is long.  The more people I meet and the more stories I hear, there is a common thread that jumps out.  Curiosity and the desire to learn feed the spirit and the mind.  

What are you curious about?  What is something that you  would like to learn or do? 

Today I give thanks for patienct teachers and joyfull noise.  

What do you give thanks for today?  

An excerpt from a favorite poem: 

" Of course I have always known you

are present in the clouds, and the 

black oak I especially adore, and the 

wings of birds.  But you are present 

too in the body, listening to the body, 

teaching it to live, instead of all 

that touching, with disembodied joy. 

We do not do this easily.  We have 

lived so long in the heaven of touch, 

and we maintain our mutability, our

physicality, even as we begin to 

apprehend the other world.  Slowly we 

make our appreciative response. 

Slowly appreciation swells to 

astonishment.  And we enter the dialogue

of our lives that is beyond all under-

standing or conclusion.  It is mystery.

It is love of God.  It is obedience. 

Oh feed me this day, Holy  Spirit, with

the fragrance of the fields and the 

freshness of the oceans which you have 

made, and help me to hear and to hold

in all dearness those exacting and wonderful 

works of our Lord Christ Jesus, saying: 

Follow me.  "  

From the Poem:  Six Recognitions of the Lord, by Mary Oliver

Great Moments

"When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, it is often no louder than the beating of your heart, and it is very easy to miss it." 
                           John O'Donohue

It has been a long time since I have posted here and it is so odd and wonderful that I have missed it.  Writing is one of those things in my life that I have such a love, hate relationship with.  Other things that come under that category are exercise, eating well, or overall self care as opposed to instant gratification or comfort.  Why is it that the very things that can help us to feel good, sometimes are the very things we most resist?  

Writing has come to be one of those places that allow me to look at the world through a specific lens.  Writing is a very significant way that I am able to stop and try to express the experience that we call life.  For many this is either not something that they need to do, or perhaps you do it in different ways.  Photography, music, painting, or other forms of the arts are common ways that people express who they are. 

Long ago I read that the best writers were avid readers.  Since I was a small child I have loved books.  I love the way some books look.  Open a book to a specific page and there, written down, are the very words that you were looking for.  Learning is something that in my early life I struggled with a lot.  I loved to escape to my room with a good book, to open the pages in the quiet and enter into the story that was before me.  As children in my family, my mother read to us before we went to sleep each night.  Looking back now, this went on much later than I would have thought.  We were in middle school I think when she finally stopped.  I remember this as a very calm and peaceful time.  A time when we were encouraged to relax and let our minds wander.  There were no expectations, no tests, just the voice of our mother and the story she held.  Recently, I have thought many times that I don't think it is any coincidence that both of my brothers and myself are avid readers. 

Everywhere I go books surround me.  I have books on theology of all different forms and from all different perspectives.  Fiction is one of the things I love very much, it continues to be a place where I can relax and breath.  Biographies are a wonderful way to enter into history and come to know the voice of people that become friends.  There are many other things that line my shelves, but what is important is the comfort and pleasure I find in writing.  

Anam Cara, A Book of Celtic Wisdom, by John O'Donohue is one of the books that I am reading right now. " Anam is the Gaelic word for soul: cara is the word for friend.  The anam cara was a person to whom you could reveal the hidden intimacies of your life."  As I begin to read this book a few different thoughts have come to mind.  The first is that over the course of my life there have been many people that have helped me reveal who I am and where the divine exits in the world.  These moments in time come back to me as times of grace.  

Who are the people in your life that have allowed you to  come to know the intimacies deep within your own soul?  

I am also reminded of what a life long journey this life is.  God is ever present and yet, ever changing.  Growing and learning about the interaction between our interior lives and the world around us is the very balance we seek. O'Donohue says: "since the birth of the human heart is an ongoing process, love is the continuous birth of creativity with and between us." 

This posting began with quote about great moments.  Today I am aware that one of the ways that I am able to see or be present in moments is to have the gift of writing about them.  Writing is a primary way that I am able to feel like I am part of the world around me.  Many times it is not until after I have written something that I am even aware that was in my heart or mind.  

What are ways that you feel part of the life you live?  How are you able to tell the stories that are hiding?  

What do you see through that window?  God is looking in with you or may be looking back.  Maybe both at the same time.  But we must look to know. 

 

Alleluia

"Life itself is an exercise in learning to sing Alleluia here in order to recognize the face of God hidden in the recesses of time."  Joan Chittister

 

It is an Alleluia view of every present moment, a view that welcomes it's complexity and subjects it to the more lasting view, the long view of life." 

Joan Chittister

Sitting here in my warm and comfy kitchen, I look out the window and snow covers the backyard.  I live in New England, I love the change in seasons.  Without doubt, by the time spring comes I am beyond ready for the cold to disappear and the hits of a warm breeze to sneak in.  Recently, I was remembering being a child growing up in a small town in Maine.  My grandparents owned an operated a dairy farm.  They grew corn, hayed the fields and in the spring, boiled maple syrup.  The buckets would be hung from the trees and the sap was would drip from a metal spout that had been inserted into the trunk.  It was never my thing to help collect or do any of this.  I loved the smell of the boiling sap, the smell of the wood burning and the cozy little building that housed the necessary equipment.  As a young child my mother and grandmother would make homemade donuts and we would go over and dip them in the freshly boiled syrup.  One of the other fun and exciting elements of this time was the very muddy road that lead to this place.  We used to talk about mud season, it was a very real time of year.  We would get special boots because your feet could sink so deep in the mud that you couldn't pull your foot up.  You can imagine the fun a child would have pulling their socked foot out of the boot and having to walk in the mud. 

It is fun to remember these times in childhood. Often in our lives, we remember those times that were painful, those places and people that left an imprint on our lives that we struggle to change or remove.  Why sometimes is it easier to remember the times of suffering than the times of joy.  Why sometimes is it easier to remember the times someone did something that was painful, than the times of joy or peace?  Perhaps an important part of our healing journey is remembering and healing from those places.  I know that has been incredibly important for me.  But as I sit here, I am reminded how seldom I have thought of those very special times in my childhood that were fun or comforting They seem so magical and special now.  But then, it was what I knew, it was just another day.  There were other things that were distracting me, other things that my mind was always struggling with.  Being in the present was not something I even had language for.  Some of that was developmental, a longing to be somewhere else, to be something else.  But how often do we miss life as it flies by, struggling to be in the moment?  How I would love to remember how it felt to have my feet squishing in the mud.  

"Uncommon Gratitude, Alleluia For All That Is."  By Joan Chittister, Rowan Williams, is a book that I had been suggested to me.  It came yesterday.  I must admit that the idea of coming home to a box with new books on my doorstep is really wonderful.  In just starting these reflections, I am very grateful for the reminder  to look for God in the present.  We are in those days after Easter in the year of the church and Jesus keeps appearing and the disciples don't recognize him.  Hummmm,   Would I?  Would you?  

I leave this today with a reflection from the book, written by Joan Chittister: 

 "Every segment of life is both gift and challenge, both endowment and responsibility.  It is the warp and woof of the fabric we call time.  The delicate interplay between the two has the power to rock us back and forth between total confidence and abject despair.  We lurch through life between doubt and faith, between security and cloying uncertainty, between the enrichment that comes from differences and the divisions that come from fear.  It is learning to cling to a sense of alleluia for both that carries us through life to that moment when everything in us has come to fullness and our only next step is immersion. in God."  

Underwater

"Circle me O God 

Keep hope within 

Despair without."  

David Adam

There are times in life when what we see is not always what is there.  Actually, I'm not sure that is true at all.  What we see is in fact what "we" see.  Perhaps what I am thinking about is how much we miss.  This is a picture taken of a stream.  Water is flowing quickly, waves ripple along the surface, a leaf is moving swiftly to it's next destination.  Upon first glance would you have guessed that the grass and stones are under the flowing water?  I ask this all with the assumption that you looked at the picture at all.  

So much of life is right there for us to see and experience.  I am beginning some reading on Celtic Spirituality.  Today I begin a book of daily readings that I would like to share.  "Praying with Celtic Saints, Prophets, Martyrs, and Poets", by June Skinner Sawyers.  

"The Celts had a deep reverence for the land and for nature itself.  Ritual was an important part of their daily life.  More important, thought, was the belief that God resides everywhere, in everyone, and in everything.  At heart, they were poets, and it is this poetic spirit, shining through their spirituality that people find so appealing today."

The last couple of weeks for me have been ones of great learning.  Not book learning, not the kind of learning that I will ever be tested for, at least not in the traditional sense.  But a learning about who I am, who we all are, and what I want to do in my life.  

As a young person there was much to be thinking about.  Each stage of our lives brings new concerns, new possibilities.  We come into the world with the powerful and important lessons of eating, sleeping, and the advanced skill of rolling over.  Time goes on and with that comes the many developmental challenges that are appropriate for who we are.  I have been struck recently just how much of our lives are spent learning to navigate the world around us, learning who we are in relation to our surroundings, and trying to find our own path.  

As we grow and learn we look around our environment, our families and friends for clues and lessons about what this whole life thing is about.  Over time we grow and change, we live and learn, we come to know that the work here is really to become our own individual.  God created us all in God's image and yet all uniquely different.  We are each called to be exactly who we need to be and then live in the world in a way that serves to make this world a better place.  

OK, so what do you see?  How is that journey going?  Where are you on that path?  


"There are other qualities as well: a mindfulness, a being present in the moment, a celebration of place, and a sense of unity with all of the earth's creatures.  It is an all-encompassing spirituality that, at its fundamental best, is life affirming."  


For each of us there comes a time when we must really embrace who we are, who we are becoming and what we want this life to be.  As an adult woman, my life looks very differently than my mothers did.  There are many wonderful gifts that she left me with, many ways of being that I treasure.  But with those gifts and my history, I have a new story.  With God's help, what do I want that to look like?  


Today I rejoice in the life I have been blessed with.  Today I want to see my journey as open to the infinite possibilities known only to God.  Today I pray to notice the barriers that I erect, and move past them.  


"The Presence of God is an eternal fact.  He never leaves us alone or forsakes us.  It is when we lose sight of Him that we falter and sink beneath the waves. "   David Adam

Resurrection Story

"The Miracle Worker" is a play written  by William Gibson.  It is a play that gives us a glimpse into the life of Helen Keller.  Her autobiography is aptly called, "The Story of My Life".  Each time I enter into the world of this amazing woman, I am reminded of her passion, courage and strength.  God calls us each from different places, at different times and within different contexts.  But, the important message here is that God in fact calls us all. 

Helen Keller was struck by a profound illness at 19 months old and was left to experience life as blind, deaf and mute.  Each time that I enter into the story of her life, I try to imagine the profound darkness that  must have been her experience.  What must it have been like to not be able to hear, see, or communicate in any way?  As we were to discover later in life, she was gifted intellectually and very passionate about the world in which she lived.  Imagine the darkness and stark reality of living in a world that I can only imagine as a locked cell.  What is the mind like when left alone?  The primary source of sensory input that Helen was able to experience was that of touch.  She could feel things emotionally, physically and spiritually, but had no way to make meaning of this experience, no way of expressing herself, and no way to learn and interact with the world.  It is said that after her illness through the age of 7 she did come to learn some 60 signs so that she could communicate with her family and her young friend Martha Washington, who was the daughter of the family cook.  I still have a very difficult time imagining how this was possible with the limitations of blindness and deafness.  What I am reminded of each time I spend time learning and reading about Helen Keller is her determination and resilience. 

Anne Sullivan was a woman that had been through tremendous difficulty.  At age 5 she was taken with Trachoma and this left her blind.  She came from an abusive Alcoholic family.  Her mother died 2 years after her illness and her father abandon her.  She grew up  in an orphanage in Tweksbury, Mass.  She was able to undergo many surgeries over the years and was able to gain some of her sight back.  She was hired to move in with the Keller family to be Helen's teacher.  The family was really at the end of their rope.  Helen was lucky enough to have been born into a family of privilege and they were able to provide for her resources that others may not have been able to have. 

Anne and Helen came from different worlds.  Both had suffered hardships, but Helen's family wanted to love her and coddle her.  They felt so badly about her disability that that was really all they could see?  Isn't it interesting that the word "see" comes to mean so much more in this context?  Anne had been brought up by the people in the orphanage and was cared for and supported but not enabled in anyway.  As I read about her life, those that brought her up did all they could to prepare her to live in the world.  They saw her potential, her possibilities, her gifts.  What do we see? 

When Anne came into the Keller home she had to set some really clear limits with the family.  She knew that if Helen was to learn she needed clear boundaries and expectations.  She knew that she needed to be called to be all she could be, that she was not to be pitied or sheltered.  Anne knew that she was called to prepare Helen for the world around her.  With her limited ability for sight she was able to see and believe in Helen's possibilities. 

Initially this was very painful for the family, they had a very hard timne coming to know and understand the difference between enabling and respecting one with expectations, and follow through.  Helen's passion often translated in willful fits and major disruption to the family.  Anne did not let her get away with it.  Anne respected Helen enough to not let her behave in a way that was hurtful, disruptive, and kept the world away. 

Water is often used in faith traditions as a sign of new life and rebirth.  The primary way that Anne was trying to teach Helen to develop language, to communicate, was to spell words our in her hand.  She would place Helen's hand on something and then spell it out in her hand.  Time went on, day after day, tantrum after tantrum, nothing, no connections made.  Yet, Anne did not give up.  She knew there was no where else to go, nothing else to turn to, but she also believed it had to be possible. 

One day after a tantrum during a family dinner, Helen runs outside.  Anne runs after her.  The story unfolds and Helen pumps water out of the well, she feels it running over her hand, she feel the coolness of the liquid running through her fingers.  Anne takes her hand and spells, W-A-T-E-R.  In a moment that must have felt like pure Grace, Helen raises her head, alive with wonder and knowing.  She takes Ann's hand, puts it under the pump, the water flows freely, then she spells W-A-T-E-R in her hand.  Anne is able to respond with Y-E-S.  At this point Helen runs wildly around the yard with Anne in tow, touching things and having her spell then out in her hand.  The chasm as been crossed, the bridge between darkness and isolation and the outside world has been found. 

God calls us to cross the bridge from where ever it is in our lives that we feel stuck.  God calls us to remember that we are all called to know who we are and what we are passionate about.  When I enter into this story again and again, I am reminded that we so often "see" limitations where we don't have to.  How is it that you are not really looking at the world around you?

Today, I want to really see.  I want to really hear.  Today, I give thanks for the gift of communication and the ability to make meaning of the world around me. 

Gracious God, Thank you for my health and healing.  Thank you for the many gifts that surround me.  Thank you for the hardship that I have had.  With that hardship I continue to grow and learn, I continue to see you in the midst of this life. 

Helen grew and flourished.  She became an American author, a political activist, and a lecturer.  She was the first deaf, blind person to earn a Bachelor of Arts degree.   With Anne at her side and many others along the way, she lived her life communicating to the world her thoughts and experiences.  God is so good. 

Where do you see stories of resurrection?