Pearls of Wisdom: Helen Keller

Both blind and deaf, Helen Keller spent her childhood locked in a world all her own. It wasn't until teacher Anne Sullivan earnestly worked through these barriers and unlocked the incredible potential that existed within Helen. Their story is an inspiration to many.

Here are a few words that Helen has left with us...
"No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted land, or opened a new doorway for the human spirit." - Helen Keller


"Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see." - Helen Keller

"The problems of deafness are deeper and more complex, if not more important, than those of blindness. Deafness is a much worse misfortune. For it means the loss of the most vital stimulus--the sound of the voice that brings language, sets thoughts astir and keeps us in the intellectual company of man." - Helen Keller

"I have often been asked, Do not people bore you? I do not understand quite what that means. I suppose the calls of the stupid and curious, especially of newspaper reporters, are always inopportune. I also dislike people who try to talk down to my understanding. They are like people who when walking with you try to shorten their steps to suit yours; the hypocrisy in both cases is equally exasperating." - Helen Keller


And one of my favorites...
"Science may have found a cure for most evils; but it has found no remedy for the worst of them all -- the apathy of human beings." - Helen Keller

Apples of Gold

A word aptly spoken is like 

apples of gold 

in settings of silver.

Proverbs 25:11

Have you ever found yourself in a situation, sometimes quite by surprise, fumbling for the right words to say? I have. Many times.

This feels so crucial, because mostly, many of us just don't want to say the wrong thing. You know. That thing. That jumps out of our mouths before we've had the chance to think it through thoroughly. That sounds insensitive, or ignorant, or just plain.... dumb.

Because we want to be helpful.
Because we've been on the receiving end of thoughtless words.
Because we just don't want to make a tough situation ... worse.

When things started to unravel around here, Jon & I took the road of being open with friends and family around us. It felt very vulnerable to share our anxieties and concerns with many other people. We discovered a beautiful net of prayer; many friends passed on our requests to their friends and because of our electronic age, we had people all over the world praying for us. Still takes my breath away.

However, it also opened us up to well-intentioned, trying-so-hard-to-be-helpful remarks. We took those as they were usually given, in love. And the rest we've slowly let go of. Recalling the many instances when I haven't said the right thing at the right time, this wasn't usually too hard!

Here were some of the gifts of words that people shared with us. Still a blessing...

Gracious Words
... I was standing in a line at our church potluck. A gracious woman from our church, who has quite a health story of her own to tell, gently spoke to me: Leah, just remember to be gracious with yourself. She had no idea how those simple words spoke so deeply to me at a time when I truly needed them. Grace ... I was sure going to need it to make it through the coming months. And permission, in some ways, to wrestle and struggle with the difference between what I knew in my head and what I felt in my heart. Much later I went to her and shared how much her words meant to me. She had no recollection of saying them. She is very humble :). I wanted her to know what a gift her kind comment had been for me.


Gracious Surprises
... It was the night before our 4-week-old daughter's MRI appointment. Neither Jon nor I had been near an MRI machine before (for which we are grateful for in more ways than one!!) and we had no idea what to expect. I was pretty much rattlin' in my bones from the anxiety of it all. And the doorbell rang. I groaned. I had no energy left for anything, let alone unexpected guests. I am so thankful I answered the door. There stood a friend, a recent acquaintance, who'd already walked the road of "different kind of blessing" for six years. She sat with us. Listened to us. Shared with us. EnCOURAGEd us. Because of her visit, I was able to sleep at night (unusual at the best of times!!) and face the coming day with a sense of we-can-do-this. I am very reserved and don't typically show up at someone's house unannounced. I am so glad she did. What a gift it was.

Not all love uses words

A very sweet couple, well into their senior years, stopped by our house one day. Only, we were eating supper and since they never rang the door bell, never said a word, we didn't know it until much later. But they left us a little gift.  A single red rose, picked from their garden, gently left in a cup of water and a little card that shared their heart with us. I left that little rose out for as long as I could. It's vibrancy, delicacy and the spirit in which it was given meant much to me.

As far as I know, we've saved every email that was sent to us during that time. My intention, at some time, when I "have time" :), is to go through them and create a single document of encouragement out of them. How sweet to look back, what a gift to also share with our children when the time is appropriate. Honestly, I probably still couldn't get through them without shedding a tear a two.

As I mentioned, there are times when I find myself in a situation where there are no easy words. And these days, I'm not the fastest thinker, either :). However, I do try to practice some of the lessons I've learned through this....
Sometimes a simple statement can open up a whole world of conversation. A wow, that sounds tough or it sounds like you've had a hard week can be all it takes to stop and listen as someone shares their story.

Or
How a simple act of kindness can mean so much. Recently I was encouraged to hear of a friend who surprised her friend by visiting her in the hospital. The situation was difficult and the extra helpful presence was meaningful.

Often I find it helpful to come home and ask Jon just what he would say or do in those moments. He usually has something very insightful and helpful to impart :).

What acts of kindness, be it words, actions, prayers and so on, have made the difficult journey a little lighter?

Book Notes: Delicate Threads, Debbie Staub, PhD

Delicate Threads, Debbie Staub, PhD

I have very sweet memories of friendships that I formed as I was growing up. Not all moments were easy, mind you, and there was a lot of life's lessons learned along the way. However, I have fond recollections of laughing, bonding, secret-swapping, exploring and the sense of security that comes with knowing you are not alone.

And there are moments that still haunt me. I was around 7 or 8 years of age, attending a church potluck. A young fellow came up to me and complimented me on the blouse I was wearing. When I looked confused, he repeated himself calmly and clearly. Uncertain of how to respond, I giggled nervously. I think I did manage to eek out a "thank you" before turning to my friends and giggling again. The thing was this - this young man had Down's Syndrome. I felt embarrassed, uncomfortable, all together unsure of what to say or do.

I still cringe at my insensitivity and ignorance. If I could turn back the clock, this is honestly one moment I would go back and do all over again.
I would take the time to smile.
I would embrace the opportunity to meet someone new.
I would say "thank you" and truly mean it.
I would not let my own insecurities get in the way of appreciating someone else.

The topic of friendship, especially in regards to our children, is one that is near and dear to my heart. It is something we pray about often - not only that our girls would find true friends, but that they would grow to become loyal and trustworthy friends. Underlying all those emotions at the beginning of this journey, it was a fear that I struggled with intensely without really even knowing it at first. Those who are "different" in any way are at a greater risk for abuse, neglect, isolation and loneliness. Friendships are harder to forge, even harder to maintain.

Consequently, it took me a while to get through this one. (And, admittedly, I went through a few Kleenex too.) The author blends observations with her thesis research, and there are many questions (with no straightforward answers), a few good insights and a few suggestions that are helpful for those who find themselves nurturing those who take a little longer to learn life's skills.

Particularly helpful for me was the distinction between "rejected" and "neglected." Children with disabilities are not necessarily rejected, when communicates "you are not wanted" but they are often "neglected." Overlooked. Ignored. They can't run as fast, speak as well, communicate as clearly. Their behaviors can sometimes seem bizarre and disconcerting. Communication requires extra intentionality and, I think, a special sensitivity.

According to Staub, reciprocal friendships between typical and non-typical learners are definitely possible, especially in the earlier years. In fact, it was often because of adult intervention that these unique relationships met an earlier end than they otherwise might have. Concerns such as expecting the typical-learning friend to constantly be the "helper" in the relationship or by an unhealthy focus on a particular "disability" add unnecessary pressure and frustration. There is also the tendency to unintentionally pass along negative attitudes, such as "helping the handicapped" mentality, not allowing the non-typical learner the space and time required to do their work and consequently doing too much for them, or perpetuate the assumption that people with disabilities are objects of pity (which they are not!).

Staub reminds parents, educational staff, therapists and other involved adults to create opportunities for typical and non-typical learners to come together and base relationship on shared story, a sense of "I know what you mean." Many children, regardless of their abilities, can relate to being in a situation that felt overwhelming, thrilling, scary, challenging, etc. As we learn to communicate with all children involved, our friendships become centered on how we're similar, not just on how we're different.

There were many good points in this book, not just for children with disabilities, but principles that apply to all levels of friendships. I'd say it's a good read; more technical than some, but with good insights. Not necessarily a MUST READ, but a good one.