"See," God implores the Israelites for the umpteenth time on their journey through the wilderness. "On this day I set before you blessing and curse." The Torah goes on to add that when the Israelites finally reach the land promised to them , the tribes will divide in two and stand on two appointed hills, and Israel's leaders will stand in the valley between them and proclaim God's words of blessing and curse to each side.

What an arresting image that is. Our people standing each on their mountain, and hearing the litany of ways life can go beautifully, and the ways it can fall like a house of cards.

The Torah is careful to point out that neither the blessings nor the curses are inevitable. Many, though not all, rest on the choices we make. For the Israelites, staying true to God's mitzvot was a sure way to reap blessing... and straying from them had exactly the opposite effect. As Jews today, in our learning and teaching together, I believe we come to see blessings - life's peak moments - as what we hope for most when we stay true to our paths and make ethical choices. There are no guarantees from either mountaintop. Sometimes the curses come even when we do all the good things it's in our power to do. There's a reason that Rabbi Harold Kushner's most widely read book was never called "Why Bad Things Happen To Good People", but "When."

Nearly one year ago, my home was a place of happiness and anticipation, and then suddenly, indescribable sadness. No one knows this better than many of you sitting here tonight. Along with my family and my longtime friends, my congregational family and my colleagues held me up during those weeks. There is never a moment I'm not grateful for that.

As I struggled to take in the loss of my child, a few streets away... contemporary-speak for "on the opposite mountaintop," a dear friend's home was a time of blessing, as she and her family held their new son's brit milah. What you don't know - what I didn't know - is that as their celebration took place, so did a conversation between my friend and a longtime friend of Michael's. Both of these women are great appreciators of his kindness and humor, and were wishing they knew someone for this person who would have so much to give to a relationship. The way I heard it later, my friend's words went something like, "I know... I wish I could think of some... wait a minute."

It was naturally some time before she set the idea in front of me. As I heard a little more about the man I would marry the following fall, I look back with awe and gratitude, for whatever forces were at work, allowing me to respond with "okay, I guess I can meet him." That first meeting blossomed quickly into friendship, as our common histories, shared interests and ability to be our truest selves together unfolded. It wasn't long before we found ourselves in the territory of -- as a longtime friend of my family's put it - that thing the poets speak about.

I remember one early visit in particular, as I explained the various Shabbat goings on at TBK, and that I would arrive early for Torah Study and he could come later for services. His response was, and I quote: "Oh, I'll come to Torah Study," May that be an example! Our Torah Study attendees have indeed had the pleasure over many Shabbatot, of welcoming Michael into our learning community - and have come to know, as I have, his intelligence, investment in Judaism and openness to other points of view. Admittedly I'm biased, but it's all true! I look forward to many more of you getting to know these and so many other gifts that Michael brings into the lives of all who know him.

It has been said to me many times, and on this Shabbat evening I say it too: What. A. Year.

A journey through the wilderness of sorrow to this utterly astonishing time of promise and joy. I never dreamed. From the peak of one mountaintop to the next, and back to the valley of the everyday where the substance of our lives is lived. Where we can only hope that even at our unhappy times, the seeds for future happiness are being planted by someone, somewhere. Where we move forward with all we've lost, and all we have. And where we are reminded - by the Torah... by the poets - to truly raise our eyes, and see... re'eh. See it all.