Writing is like being able to put life into a snow globe. It takes the things that are too big and scary and reduces them into a form that I can put away when I want and look at from a distance. It also takes all that’s good in life and captures it into something I can take out when I want and look at close up and keep forever. It makes the bad things into something I can hold…and the good things into something I can hold onto. Both help so much that I need that little souvenir of life.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Pluck of the Irish

Sometimes I look around, and there really are people who conduct their lives with virtually no regard for other people—and they get away with it. The injustice is so blatant, it feels like an affront to the soul.

And yet, in the end these types drive away the crucial things that they work so hard to deny others:  genuine love, intimacy, and respect. And because they never take responsibility for their actions, they never truly learn or grow. Even when they pretend to have changed negative behaviors, they’ve really only become more adept at hiding them.

Is that why bad things never seem to happen to these people? Because they’d never learn, anyway, so what’s the point? Do they really only exist to throw destruction into the universe so that decent people can learn to solve problems and create?

Because it really does seem like there are good people everywhere who are truly struggling. I’ve been thinking about all of this lately when along came an email from a great friend. It was called “An Irish Blessing.” Sometimes I feel like the universe tries and tries to tell me something, but I’m dense enough that God just lets out a big sigh and has a friend spell it out to me in an email. Here it is. May you enjoy it as much as I did. And happy St. Patrick’s Day.

My wish for you

I wish you not a path devoid of clouds, nor a life on a bed of roses,
Not that you might never need regret,
nor that you should never feel pain.
No, that is not my wish for you.
My wish for you is:
That you might be brave in times of trial,
when others lay crosses upon your shoulders.
When mountains must be climbed and chasms are to be crossed,
When hope can scarce shine through.
That every gift God gave you might grow with you
and let you give your gift of joy to all who care for you.
That you may always have a friend who is worth that name,
whom you can trust and who helps you in times of sadness,
Who will defy the storms of daily life at your side.
One more wish I have for you:
That in every hour of joy and pain you may feel God close to you.
This is my wish for you and for all who care for you.
This is my hope for you now and forever.

-- anonymous Irish blessing

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift. – Mary Oliver


  1. And the Irish blessing right back at ye, too!

  2. And may you find the Pot of Gold at the end of the rainbow!!

  3. Thank you! Same to all of you!!


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