Eyes to See

Okay, okay ... my apologies for disappearing in, well, Canada (here is where I must tell you that I still feel just a bit silly posting on the international blog ... but a technicality is a technicality!). It isn't that I haven't wanted to share. In fact, I've got quite a few drafts saved in Blogger as we speak. I just have had a difficult time in my attempts to be authentic and real knowing the inadequacy of language to express this experience ...

You see, three of the four core members (those living with disabilities) in the L'arche home that I live and work with are unable to communicate with words. And, as someone who LOVES to talk, er, I mean ... as someone who loves to write, and has a deep appreciation for poetry, means of communication, and rich theological texts ... I've realized yet again how much language fails us, and how profound the adage actions speak louder than words really is.

What do you say to an amazing woman who is surviving muscular leukodystrophe? As a child, her parents were informed that she would probably not live past ten years of age. Next month, I will be here to celebrate her 35th birthday. Don't tell me that miracles don't happen. Don't think that eloquence quickly bridges the echoing silence that grips my heart every time I see her precious, sacred soul.

I'd like to share a story about this amazing woman (I'll call her "Sasha"). When she was diagnosed with this devastating disorder as a child, her parents were informed that she would soon become blind. Her father was stricken with grief, but, as he tells it, Sasha's mother brought him back to reality. Knowing that their beloved daughter would soon be able to see no more, they made the decision to fill her mind with as many beautiful visual memories as they possibly could while they still had time.

As such, the entire family (mom, dad, Sash and her younger brother and sister) piled into an RV headed initially to visit family six hours north in Canada. And where exactly did they end up? In Tijuana, Mexico!!! Can you believe it? They traveled throughout Canada as well as the States. Riding through the desert, the family drank Coke after Coke to keep cool and keep quiet. Sasha rode on her father's back as the family hiked the Grand Canyon. Not to mention, she has been on EVERY single ride at Disney World. In the midst of tragic news, her family chose to breathe life into their daughter. To show her the world while she had eyes to see, so that when her physical sight failed her she would always perceive and remember with her heart.

Her hearing is fading these days, but I speak in a calm voice and make sounds that she can recognize. Comfort is the priority in a daily routine that cycles around medicines and tubes and creams. She never learned English, but I sing to her anyway. She doesn't leave the house these days, so I sit alongside her and gently massage the hands that do not unclench on their own. I move quickly to apply pressure to the soles of her feet when her muscles begin to violently spasm. I clumsily attempt gentleness as I hourly reposition her small body.

Every time I look at Sasha I behold the beauty of the Lord. I cannot tell you how humbled I am to see her wide, blind eyes gazing up at me. The wave of love and compassion that she causes to wash over me is indescribable. And I am convinced that she is indeed able to see. Perhaps not the forms and faces of those around her. But Sasha sees the heart of God. She isn't concerned about what I look like, dress like, act like, want to be like. She has no use for the things deemed important by the world. She sees prophetically beyond all of these things and searches my heart for that which is authentic and that which is real. She can see love and compassion, and God's lavish outpouring, more clearly than anyone I know. She sees beyonds my many flaws, and is teaching me what it means to truly love, to truly be Christ in the world.

With blind eyes and no words, Sasha speaks. She speaks of what it means to be a part of a body, a community, founded in love and compassion and grace. She speaks of the amazing faith and heart to survive the worst of circumstances. She leads me into a greater knowledge of the Kingdom. Her profound message is one that causes me to stop and reconsider the gift of breath I breathe each moment, and to more fully engage ministry definitively as an act of service.

Sasha's eyes are wider than mine. They are filled with something altogether lovely. They are of a keen clarity. I pray God continues to use her to give me new eyes to see ... she has already filled me with beautiful memories and visions that my heart will never lose sight of.