You know how the saying goes, don’t you? “When God closes a door, He opens a window.” You heard it said as a child in the face of disappointment. You said it to a friend when they questioned why a good thing had to end. Perhaps you even whispered it to yourself in an effort to drum up a sense of hope in the face of abandonment.

My life has been a continual movement in opening and closing of doors. When I look back however, I tend to see more closed doors than opened windows. I remember the slamming sound more than the soft and quiet opening of something new.

I experienced this most recently late last Thursday night while waiting for my flight with a cup of Baskin-Robbins ice cream in my hands.  (Yes, it was a spontaneously declared Ice Cream for Dinner Night. After all, I was on vacation!) As I waited for the flight, I realized just how much I needed this trip. The past couple of months had been physically and emotionally exhausting. My heart was quivering with it’s own needs, so long told to wait in the course of life’s events. My creativity had diminished over time and I knew that traveling would bring it back.

“I can feel the sense of adventure slowly finding me,” I texted my sister as began to unburden my heart in the wait to board.

And just like that – I found myself jumping from my seat and waiting in one long line after another to recover my ticket from a cancelled flight and to try – in-vain – to book another and salvage my trip. 

The door to this trip was closed. I heard it slam extra loudly with the Uber car door as the driver brought me safely home in the middle of the night. “For some reason, I wasn’t meant to take this trip,” I mused as my head hit the pillow, too tired for tears, “But what could that reason be? I needed this trip!”

We all know the sound of that door slamming in our face. And the echo of the minutes, months, and often years that seem to follow. I have a sneaky suspicion that this is true for most of us. We look back and remember the moments of panic that ensued when something big in our lives ended. . . a job, a relationship, an activity, and even the chance to live out our dreams.

This wasn’t the first time I had a door slam in my face. The first one looked like the front door on my New Jersey home as my parents drove us over a thousand miles into the Midwest for a new opportunity. It looked like the office door that shut behind me after quitting a job where I was surrounded by some of the people I loved the most and thought I might never see again. The door shut more softly on the religious life, as I learned that even with my newly opened heart and appreciation for the call as a spouse of Christ, it was not meant for me.

In those moments, I looked for the proverbial window and sometimes, it was nowhere to be seen. Dear sisters – what if I told you I think we are mixing up our windows and doors?

I believe the “doors” I described from my life above were not actually doors. A door is something we walk through, in which we find a new world, and to which we advance when we move toward something new. A door is an open opportunity and invitation to walk into a place of growth. Whereas, a window is simply a glance into another world beyond where we are currently standing and thriving. It is is a limited opening meant for observing. We cannot walk through a window. 

Life really is a series of doors and windows, opening and closing at the grace and inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Perhaps the closed doors mentioned above in my life had been doors at one time. But when they closed, they were simply windows, closing me off from places that I no longer belonged; places in which I wasn’t going to thrive. I know this because of what followed, every single time…

In the story of my cancelled trip, I found God’s hand in reviving my spirit. For three days following the late night Uber ride, I slept in, went to mass, went grocery shopping, exercised, cleared a tree in my brother’s backyard, spent extra time in Adoration, read a book, watched the leaves fall down in the nearby park, and baked bread. It doesn’t sound like anything spectacular, but with every movement of tending to my life and home, my soul began to rest.

And then, it began to fly. Just like that – my creativity came back – a slow and soft opening into something new. A door opened and I found the rest I needed – perhaps, in the way I needed it the most.

Every time I heard the sound of something closing, no matter how loud and frightening it seemed, something far far greater awaited me in the aftermath. Life in the Midwest was the best thing that could have happened to the 10 year old New Jersey girl. The job I said goodbye to was followed by another with more relationships waiting to be made and kept, just as the other friendships had been kept and grown. And the things I learned about love – true, sacrificial spousal love – as a result of my discernment to the religious life, set my heart on a continuing path toward my vocation.

The next time we hear our window closing, with a giant “no” in our face, dear friends, let’s get ready to thrust open a door nearby. A door into something beautiful and new – full of life and opportunity awaiting us on the other side. Let’s put aside the echo of the slamming sound and listen intently instead, for the softly spoken invitation to turn a handle, thrust open a door, and walk into an unknown “yes” with trust. 

The door might not look like much at first glance. It might be plain, small, or barred. It might be quaint, classic, or majestic. But the details do not matter. What matters is that we hold the key and decide just how we will open them…

Will we peek through them in fear of what lies on the other side? Keep our ear to it for awhile in the hope of hearing what might be on the other side? Or, will we throw them open with confidence in our Savior’s promise, “Behold, I make all things new”?

Yours, Mary