Not everything is bad, open your doors!

 

I remember how Ricardo, my neighbor, the one with the two-story pink house and a messy garden, closed the door of his house some time ago, lowered the blinds, and we never saw him again. We feared the worst, but then deliverymen started arriving, supplying him with everything he considered necessary.

At home, we wondered what could have happened to him. But how could we know? We could only speculate. In the farm, the bakery, and the store, everyone had their own version of Ricardo's seclusion.

The funniest one was Dora's version. "Don't repeat it, but my husband told me that a coworker said Ricardo is a spy and he's hiding."

I couldn't take it anymore. Something had happened to Ricardo. I crossed over and rang the doorbell. I saw someone pull back the curtain of the window—it was Ricardo.

"Are you okay? We haven't seen you in a long time," I said.

"Hello, Amelia. I've been working nights. I got fired from the company I worked at for 20 years, and I only managed to find a job as a security guard. Can I help you with something?"

I returned home, angry with myself for not caring about Ricardo for so long. He's also a brother in Christ, just like me, and I never went to visit him. This Sunday, I'll ask the Pastor to pay him a visit.

We don't live far from the church; we usually walk there unless it's raining. It wasn't raining this Sunday; on the contrary, the sun filled everything, making the cold of this harsh winter more bearable. As usual, Elsy and Aiden, my children, were being a bit rebellious about going to see the Lord, although they always end up meeting their friends at the temple. This generation is forgetting how to communicate with Jesus.

As we walked to the temple, I was telling Albert, my husband, how rebellious these young people are. He started laughing and said to me, "Looks like you're getting old, your memory is failing. I remember very well how hard it was to find you at the temple, and your mother offering the most absurd excuses to the Pastor. That's why I fell in love with you." He continued laughing and looked at the children, who were also laughing.

I raised my head, quickened my pace as if I were offended, but deep down, I remembered how wonderfully rebellious I was in my adolescence.

We turned the corner, and Ricardo was standing at the door of the temple, talking to the Pastor. We approached to greet them.

"Thank you, Amelia," Ricardo said as soon as he saw us. "When I saw you the other day, I remembered that I couldn't go on without my friends. I talked to the Pastor and understood that this is what I'm meant to experience now. In this job, I will face many challenges that I used to ignore."

"Dear friends," the Pastor began his sermon, "Jesus never leaves us alone; it is usually us who distance ourselves. Sometimes we distance ourselves because we're angry with ourselves. We close our doors and engage in a monologue that only speaks of the bad things. There are changes that hurt, like losing friends. Let's remember Gigi and Kobe, and how someone helped us open the door we closed. That is the light at the end of the road—it's opening the door without knowing what's on the other side. That's why it's important to do it with friends; they will help us cross safely into the new. And the new will bring new things to learn and new experiences. Do you think Jesus would have allowed himself to be crucified if there wasn't something wonderful afterward? That cross, where he was placed, is the door that brought him to live with all of us. Jesus is always there, where we need him. That's why... Amen." We responded, "Amen, glory to God!" and we sang.

Changes are presented to all of us, every day, every night. Some make us jump for joy, and others cause us great pain. That's life, the universe offers it to us as humans. Changes also occur in societies; they are like movements of the Earth's crust that, when readjusting, produce waves that translate into earthquakes on the surface.

Let's remember the fall of the Roman Empire, a prolonged event in time. Those days were filled with anguish and insecurity; everything was trembling, nothing seemed stable. It was very difficult for those societies to solve the problems they faced. Eventually, a new door opened to a new civilization, ours.

Not everything is bad, even though it may seem that way. Changes propose we that we learn to live in new environments, where the principles we have sown and harvested can help us not only seize each change as an opportunity for resilience but also illuminate that new context. That's what we call an opportunity.

Not everything is bad, don't be afraid. Open your doors!

Pablo A. Bevilacqua

nobloyan@gmail.com

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