The Hope I Seek - Taking The Long Way Home - A Pilgrimage of Hope

I was fitted for my first pair of glasses in the 7th grade. Thinking back, I don’t remember having trouble seeing but what happened next shows me the burden I lived with. I will never forget the breathtaking wonder of seeing clearly. I had no idea what being nearsighted meant or that I couldn’t see far away. Suddenly, the clarity and sharpness of everything, everywhere I looked made me cry. I couldn’t stop looking around me. No naps for me on a car ride! There were things to see. It must have been much harder than I realized because even now, I still feel the same thrill when I put my glasses on.

Wonder continues to keep me from taking my sight for granted. This is probably why I am always drawn to the times that Jesus healed blind people. Over the years, I have often felt like the man at Bethsaida (Mark 8: 22-26) that Jesus took aside, away from those who had brought him and who begged Jesus to help their friend. This wasn’t a quick cure. It took a few tries. “Which is more clear? One…or two? Two…or one?” I struggle in an eye exam and have to process the changes of the new lens, and then make a decision.

“Do you see anything?” Jesus gives the man time to respond and his response always makes this my story. “I see people; and they look like trees walking around.” Like me, this man once had good vision and for whatever reason, lost it. He knew what people looked like and what trees looked like. Jesus could have left him then, and it would have been a miracle. The man was blind and now he is nearsighted. He could see close up and Jesus’ smile looked wonderful. He sees his friends over there walking around looking like trees. I can hear the wonder in the man’s voice and feel the emotions overwhelming him. Was he already processing how he could live his life independently with this restored ability? Jesus was patient and gave him the time he needed to adjust and still. Only then did Jesus place “ his hands on the man’s eyes again.” This time his vision was completely restored, and he could see clearly.

“Go home now, but go the long way…not through the city.” Healing the man’s vision was an act of mercy. Telling him to take the long road home was an act of compassion. Relief is exhausting. Adjusting to good changes and the newness they offer takes time that we often don’t allow ourselves. I hope that man did take the long road home and allowed himself times along the way to wonder and weep, to rest and reflect, and be open to the journey offered to him as a gift to be explored, and cherished. The ultimate gift Jesus gave the man at Bethsaida was the chance, the time to be a pilgrim discovering his new life.

I have heard many people say how grateful they were to enter the new year 2025. All speak of the relief they continue to feel having left the pain and burdens of the past year behind. I know that I felt that relief, and I am still processing it. The wounds and pain don’t just go away like snipping off Jacob Marley’s chains. Meaningful growth and healing take time and patience, noticing and wonder-ing, weeping from sadness and from joy while reflecting and remembering.

Pope Francis gave us the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy in 2015-2016. It was a year to recognize and experience the unceasing love God pours into us. It takes time to process the depth of that Love throughout our lives and “real” life has a way of taking over, distracting us. We need time.

Knowing that we and the entire world have changed in the past 10 years, Pope Francis has given us another gift. He asks us to take the long way home in this Jubilee year of Hope. We are to ask our God to restore a climate of hope and trust. This transformation must first begin within ourselves. Then we can share it in our life- world. We have been named “Pilgrims of Hope”. This is a compassionate gift of time to allow us to feel the grace of Hope and to notice and rejoice in the healing, the strengthening, the confidence, the trust, the courage that Hope in God’s endless love gives us.

The grace I ask for in my pilgrimage of Hope is to step into each day trusting that I will receive the grace I need, and it will be enough, that I will be enough. I ask to trust that my instincts are a grace and not second guess myself. I ask to notice my progress, my healing and growth, and celebrate it all with gratitude. I ask to trust God’s love for me warts and all, and allow my view of life to be abundantly more than half full. I ask Jesus to heal my spiritual vision, which is prone to being nearsighted, so I can absorb the wonder of being a beloved child of God.

I hope you will take some time this week to name the grace you are asking for in your Jubilee Pilgrimage of Hope.

Going Deeper:

Enjoy reading some of the documents about the Jubilee Year of Hope.

• Letter of the Holy Father Announcing the Jubilee Year
• SPES NON CONFUNDIT “Hope does not disappoint” Papal Bull
• USCCB Jubilee 2025 - Pilgrims of Hope

Photo by: Ryan Stone on Unsplash

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Mary Ann Gessner

Mary Ann Gessner has worked with all generations as an art teacher, in Nursing Homes as Recreation Director, Social Services and Admissions Director and Administrator. She was the Director of Admission with a focus on international student recruitment for St. Johnsbury Academy and holds a BA in Studio Art and Art Education from the University of Bridgeport, CT and a M.S.A. from St. Michael’s College in VT. Since retiring in 2015, Mary Ann enjoyed the gift of time to nest, quilt, and cook. This gift of time became more intentional and led to Ignatian Spirituality via the Inner Chapel and Becky’s Overwhelmed No More retreat and the 19th Annotation of the Spiritual Exercises. Mary Ann is an Ignatian trained spiritual director in private practice, a CPE trained Interfaith Chaplain and is applying her love of storytelling as a writer. Her two sons have moved gracefully into their adult lives with their families. Mary Ann and her husband still live in the log home they built almost 50 years ago in the woods of Sheffield, Vermont.