An Unexpected Gift of Grace

Explaining the relationship I have with my sister is very difficult; to say we're best friends doesn't seem to be adequate.  To say that she's the half that makes me whole isn't accurate; that is more the place and role of our husbands.  (Back when we were married almost 20 years ago, my father gave our husbands long distance gift cards--this was in the days when we paid for long distance.  He said, "I'll start you out with what it's going to cost you with these two, and then your on your own.  The telephone cord is their umbilical cord to one another--I suggest you not cut it.")

I suppose that as limiting and inadequate as these words are, I would have to say she's my compass--she orients me because she has been with me and knows my past, we're together in the present and she'll be with me through the future.  She is the vessel that holds my memories, the companion of my present, and the instrument which catapults me toward the future.  Together we remember who we are--"the Kanto girls" and together we push one another to stretch ourselves into becoming more while holding onto each other.  We have a relationship that cannot be described, defined, or imitated.  It is an intense relationship and as can be the case with intense, vulnerable relationships, it isn't always easy.  We've recently had one of those times.

The details of our disagreement are ours alone; suffice it to say that texts and emails are not always the best modes of communication even when or perhaps especially when you love someone so dearly.  We had a misunderstanding and that coupled with very busy lives resulted in our not communicating for ten or so days; I convinced myself it didn't matter.

Friday night I was with two sisters.  One lives in Washington DC and one in Kentucky.  I was there when they reunited, and I saw the love and joy they shared just  being together.  It made my heart happy and it felt like an arrow piercing my heart.  I was overcome with an intense painful ache-a longing for my sister that pulsated through my body and soul.  I thought nothing of our "misunderstanding" but only about our relationship, and I needed to know that it still mattered to her too.  I was shrouded in fear; what if this was what permanently tore us apart?  I didn't trust in our relationship; I doubted, if only for a moment, the strength and endurance of our relationship, and I suddenly felt like I had been cut off from a part of myself. All of these emotions came on suddenly and intensely.  As the evening wore on and the festivities of the night continued, the emotional typhoon subsided some, but it remained a dull ache in my soul.

I said good night to the sisters and the almost sister and headed home to my family.  As I arrived I noticed a box on the front porch.  It was addressed to me.  I began to rack my brain wondering what I had ordered (and how mad Chris was going to be that I did order yet another thing).  I opened the box and in it I found an "it's so ugly it's cute" owl.  Initially I didn't find any card; when I did it said, "Love your chi omega sister."  I wanted to believe it was from my sister who also happens to be my sorority sister, but I couldn't let myself completely give into that hope.  We hadn't spoken for days, why would she send me this gift?  And so I again doubted the strength of our relationship and instead protected my heart.

The next morning it was confirmed.  It was a gift from my sister and that owl (that my children say will haunt them at night) became both a gift of love and grace and the tangible reminder that our relationship is more than misunderstood texts and emails--that our relationship is anchored in unconditional love.  Our relationship with all its warts, like many relationships, can in fact be a testimony to God's active presence, through ordinary relationships, in the world.

Friday afternoon The Rev. Canon Jason Lewis proclaimed that our calling as a church is to listen for and look for God's presence in the world today and then to point to it.  I suspect we often miss it when it's right in front of us.  But we need to pay attention to the whole world--the big and the small, to what seems momentous and to what seems ordinary and coincidental.  We need to notice, identify,and celebrate .  God is active in our lives.  God's present activity is known in forgiveness, unconditional love, mercy, and in broken and restored relationship. Sometimes that presence is seen when we feed the hungry, when we tend the sick, when we witness the reunion of sisters, and sometimes it's when we open an unexpected box containing an unexpected gift.