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Reviewed by Jeff Needle
7/6/2009 10:07:12 PM
As is my wont, from time to time, I make the long, tedious walk to Costco (about two blocks from my home) and sit in the food court enjoying a Hebrew National kosher hot dog and a Diet Coke. And, as if that weren’t enough, I sometimes sit next to someone who has a story they want to tell. I have long believed that everyone has a story to tell. And I, for one, want to hear it.
I began a conversation with a nice elderly gentleman sitting across from me. Turns out we’ve been challenged in the same ways over our lifetimes when it comes to health issues. His attitude was just delightful, and I found myself being drawn into his life story at every turn.
And then there are folks like Kristin Warner Belcher, whose life story reminds all of us that, despite our own problems, others have had higher mountains to climb. In brief, the author of this little book was born with a disease that was not properly checked or treated. Treatments recommended by doctors only seemed to heighten the problems she faced. Later in life, the cumulative effect of early missteps would cause her to lose her vision entirely.
I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to go through life without my sight. We take so much for granted, we know our environment so well, we sometimes forget that, if he suddenly couldn’t see, our lives would be changed dramatically. Would we be able to cook a meal? How about just finding that comfortable chair in the living room? How can I help my children with their homework? And how can I read that treasured letter from a friend?
Belcher narrates her story with a deep sense of loss, the loss of her vision. But she manages to cope with her problems through her solid connection with God. His ever-present love is her constant guide. And through Christ’s infinite atonement, Belcher is able to pull her life back together again.
I was particularly taken with the 10th chapter, “Finding Myself Through Laughter.” She recounts with grace the times she’s encountered people who simply didn’t know how to cope with her blindness. It’s easy to react angrily at such times, but she insists that finding your inner wit (my phrase) can bring a person a long ways down the road to healing.
As she talks about the radiation treatments she received as a child, and the resultant cancer that caused her blindness later in life, her tone is consistently uplifting. I’m fairly certain that her retrospective of her challenges is a bit rosier than her thoughts as she went through her difficulties. And she makes no bones about her anger and depression, her ongoing efforts to cope with the direction her life was taking.
Some readers will be especially touched by her thoughts on holy places. One such place is a spot on the beach to which she can retreat when she wants to feel the cool of the ocean, the peacefulness of the silence of nature. I have to say that I identify with this affection — I love my own sacred spaces, the places I can enter and find some sense of peace and serenity.
“Hard Times and Holy Places” reminds us that, whatever our challenges, we have a Friend to whom we can turn. The atonement of Christ reaches out to all of us, touching us at times, and in places, that can help heal our brokenness and restore us to wholeness.
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