I love the old expression that for every door that closes for us in life, a window opens.
Although I have to admit I used to think it was lame, especially when it was rattled by rote out of the mouths of the nuns at my school whenever anything bad happened.
But at that point I also hadn’t experienced enough of life to warrant the need for the faith that someone, or something, bigger than me could sustain my spirit with hope.
As the years have passed, life has presented its share of challenges. Now I hold the phrase close in times when it seems like the world really could come crashing down on my head. I know that it is true.
I wrote last week about divides in my family over several generations that resulted in the loss of many loving relationships. The door had slammed closed and there was nothing I could do about it. The post was sparked by the death of my godfather, a good man I hadn’t seen in almost 30 years because of one of those terrible situations. That’s more than half of my lifetime.
And then, to my amazement, a window began to open.
My godfather’s daughter, a cousin I haven’t seen since she was 17 and I was 22, reached out after I left an online condolence. She was a similar victim of the situation, which hadn’t involved her. Yet, like me, she had been indelibly affected by it and suffered the loss of an entire side of the family because of it.
So now we have reconnected and I’m hopeful more reconciliations may follow. But even if they don’t, I’m changed.
Taking steps to close a rift caused by others who are long dead is really like throwing open the windows on the first warm day of spring. Some old hurts may be left behind as the room fills with fresh air. But others, like this one, may reveal even more graces as they see the light of day and begin to heal.