We were visiting my mother and father-in-law for the weekend. Shortly after we arrived, my mother-in-law pointed out the new blinds they had installed in their downstairs windows. We had heard about them on our last visit home several months prior as they had been one of those painstaking home decor decisions where just the right thing was needed to provide privacy but also allow some light through when they were down and in privacy mode. They had waited several weeks for the special order to come in.
“I love the look of them,” my mother-in-law said, “but I’m so upset. They don’t pull up”, she lamented. “I mean, I just assumed they would so I never thought to ask.”
At this point of course, the rest of us in the room, my husband, sister-in-law and myself each initiated our own investigation into the mysterious window blinds. Both my own and my husband’s investigative work wrapped up quickly with the same conclusion that yes, these must be the only window blinds in the world that don’t pull up. Such an unfortunate choice.
My sister-in-law however, dug a bit deeper, put some extra muscle in and voila, the blind pulled up and the light poured in. The miracle of the blind was met with uninhibited joy from my mother-in-law (pretty sure she actually bounced with glee) and became the topic of conversation for the rest of the weekend.
What triggered the visit home was an invitation to join two of my sister-in-laws and my mother-in-law on a women’s retreat being held at a local parish. The speaker was wonderful; her talks were very informative and appropriately challenging. But by far my favorite part of the weekend was just being in community; not only with my own family, but with nearly eighty other women – all different ages, each with her own unique story – all of us just doing our best and trying to find our way.
I admit, when I first arrived at the retreat on Friday evening, I was like my mother-in-law’s blinds. I was a bit stuck in privacy mode; the stress of the past week weighed heavy and I wasn’t able to pull myself up and out of the worries that crowded my mind. As the night progressed however, I found myself so comforted by the gift of being surrounded by a group of women who are all convinced that walking this journey with Jesus makes more sense than going it alone.
It takes community – making ourselves vulnerable – willing to share and learn – to place ourselves before others who will gently (and sometime not so gently) pull you up and out from the weight of whatever cross you bear. Not one of us had all the answers, but to be among this group of women for a day and a half was both inspiring and healing. It was the perfect reminder of the indispensable gift of our sisters-in-Christ and the value of community; the opportunity to immerse yourself in God’s love through the light only others can offer.
