“When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.”
Maria, in the musical, The Sound of Music, had dreamed of and planned a life in the abbey. A conniving Baroness, a rigid, sea captain, and seven, mischievous children were not in her plan. The door to her dreams had rudely banged closed.
I know exactly how Maria feels. My life hasn’t been the life I pictured as a child. My idealistic pictures of my future never included unending chores, children with special needs, and a marriage that needed constant attention. The door to my “picture perfect” life has closed.
Maria found her window. Love, a music festival, and a romantic dash over a mountain to peace and prosperity were the windows Maria climbed through.
I look around for my open window. The only music is the fart noises my son makes to irritate his brother. The romantic dash over the mountain has become the mad dash to the car, where I try to not yell at my kids so the neighbors won’t overhear. I find myself crying out, “this isn’t what I signed up for!” I look around for Maria’s window, and I find that they have all been painted shut.
A few weeks ago, I was in Chick-Fil-A when a younger child approached my two boys. She was very friendly and began to engage my older son in conversation. The door began to creak open. I have been coaching my son, who has Asperger’s, in social skills for the past 13 years. I knew this was going to be his shining moment. He started giving the girl a funny look.
“Oh…it’s you…” he replied to her. Then before, I could do or say anything he retreated to our table. Bang. Doors shut, windows painted. Stuck.
When we were settled at our table, I began to think of ways I could help him overcome his insensitivity to the girl he had just interacted with. How do I open a door or a window for him?
Then my eyes were drawn to a lady in a minivan. She exited the driver’s side and began to help an elderly gentleman out of the passenger seat. He was having a hard time walking. I noticed his World War II Veteran’s hat. I noticed how kind the lady was helping him. Would my children be as kind as her? Would my sons be as heroic as him?
Suddenly, I was jolted out of my self pity. My older son shot out of his seat. I looked at him in surprise. What was he going to do?
“Can I help them with the door?”
Speechless, I nodded.
As my son held the door open for them, a new quote came into my mind.
When God closes a door, he will paint the windows shut too, so you can sit back and watch your son open his own door.
My picture perfect movie future does not exist, but my life is pretty good.