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'Imagine being deaf and blind,' I said to Hannah, a young friend of mine, as we talked about my going to attend a worship service at the recent national convention of the Deaf Blind Association at Towson University.

Imagine not being able to see your mother?s face or hear a cat purr.

She did.

And when I looked up, she was teary-eyed. 'Just imagine ? I might not want to live,' she said, her voice full of the adolescent angst of a wide-open heart.

I switched instantly into comfort mode, and shared with her the story of Helen Keller, who was born June 27, 1880, and lived her life as 'a battle to re-enter the world.'

'Life is either a daring adventure or nothing,' said Keller, who was deaf and blind and grew up to be one of the most respected social activists in the nation.

The raised-Braille dots on her memorial have been completely worn down - twice - since she died in 1968, by people who embrace her spirit.

This is the spirit that caused her to say, 'The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt within the heart.'

I went into the University Union at Towson University June 18 with these words on my mind and quickly discovered how unfinished my own worldview was.

In a large meeting room, more than 50 people gathered in uneven rows for worship. Two American Sign Language translators flanked the preacher, Frank Spiker, a deaf man from Oakland UMC in Charlestown, W.Va.

Because many worshipers couldn?t see the interpreters, they had helpers sitting next to them. They were signing into each other?s hands and on each other?s faces. It bespoke a trust and intimacy that was deepened by the words of testimony they translated.

One by one, people came in front of the room to share their faith. Some sang using signs, others spoke from the heart. The theme was the same for each: 'There?s no limit in how we can worship God. God has no limits. We should live accordingly.'

When each person was done, because applause could not be seen or heard, the crowd stomped their feet. The vibration rose as praise.

Then William Suggs rose to sing. Suggs, who was on-hand during the entire week to translate, advocate and lend support, is a member of Christ UMC in Baltimore.

He was homeless when he first came to the church, said his pastor the Rev. Peggy Johnson. He didn?t know he could sing. The church taught him that. They taught him a lot of other things. He now awes them with the beauty of his songs.

Suggs, who has been deaf from birth, is now going blind. When he signs the songs, his whole body proclaims the words. He?s made a DVD titled 'Blessed Deaf/Blind Songs of Faith' and has sold 100 copies.

'He is a treasure,' Johnson said.

Spiker too praised Suggs, as he read the Scripture from Jeremiah 29:11 assuring those gathered that God promises them a future filled with hope.

Deaf and struggling with deteriorating vision, Spiker is a stay-at-home dad who cares for seven special needs children. He struggles, he said, with questions of 'why me, and why now.' But he is certain, to the depths of his soul, that God has a purpose for his life.

Spiker shared his favorite Bible story of the 12 spies Moses sent into Canaan. Ten saw the negative (they saw a giant), while two - Joshua and Caleb - saw the positive: the potential of the promised land.

It all comes down to your focus, Spiker said. 'We need to start seeing things God?s way. Even in the midst of disabilities, God is able to do great things. God is limited only by my lack of faith. So I?m looking for God and I?m finding him every day.'

Spiker encouraged others present to do the same. 'God uses ordinary people for extraordinary things,'he told them. 'God lives in you. 'Don?t see the giant, see God.'

The ability of these deaf-blind people to look beyond the 'giant' sometimes staggers Johnson. Many of them are not 100 percent blind or 100 percent deaf, she said. Their sight and hearing falls along a spectrum that changes everyday. Each day they get up to discover things anew and they deal accordingly in a world that?s not always easy for them.

'Deaf-blind means flexibility and adaptability and being willing to try that one-hundredth thing, even after the ninety-ninth has failed,' Johnson said.

More than 300 people attended the weeklong conference. They represented more than 750,000 people in the United States living with deafness and blindness.

A leader in this arena, each year the Baltimore-Washington Conference hosts a camp at West River for deaf-blind people. They provide tactile-rich activities, like motorcycle rides and massages. But most important they provide fellowship, said Johnson.

She is already busy recruiting people for next year?s camp. In fact at the conference, whenever she and Carol Stevens, director of the Baltimore-Washington Deaf Shalom Zone appeared, some people began to automatically make the American Sign Language sign for 'recruit.'

Johnson is unapologetic. The volunteers at the conference and at the camp give of their time to make an extraordinary difference in people?s lives, she said. 'It really is incarnational.'

And that sense of the indwelling God took me right back to Helen Keller, who said three things that seemed perfect for this moment: 'Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it;' and 'No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars or sailed an uncharted land, or opened a new doorway for the human spirit.'

And finally, echoing the spirit of Spiker, Suggs, Hannah and even each of us: 'One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.'