Every night I collect seaglass to remind me that through these little gifts , God is faithful .He whispers , “You will walk away from Lyme disease .”
Author Archives: Lisa A. Riehm
A dresser and then a dream.
I can’t make up this stuff up…pull up a chair, get comfy, pour a drink, and enjoy the last sip.
It all started with a dresser. Yes, a dresser. I moved to Santa Barbara into a cute cottage or should I say, cracker box, about a month ago and had to let go most of my Chicago furniture. One of bedrooms has no closets. Seriously, how do even call it a bedroom without a closet? I was in desperate need of storage. So with a press of an Facebook app and a search, I found a dresser. The arrangements were made.
Fifteen miles through the mountains, a forest preserve, deep into the woods, my GPS announced, “You have arrived at your destination.” Oh Crap!
I panicked and threw the jeep in reverse. It was straight out of a horror movie …” She went looking for a dresser and ended up dead.” That’s not gonna be me. I floored it, pulled over to a street light and tried to call the seller. No service. Are you kidding me?
I shifted to drive. Yep, I’m outta here…. Until lights. Sirens… and a “Miss, can I see your driver’s license?”
“Sorry, officer. I am lost. Do you know where Paradise store is?”
Ten minutes later, I pulled in a parking lot.” Welcome to Paradise.” Seriously, God, Paradise? Furniture and cash were exchange. The deal was done. But the next day, I was pulled in by an antique chair. Same place. Same deal.
The talented furniture artist and I exchanged information. “Can you find me an armoire?”
A text received. Another deal was in the making. And then she gushed.
My husband said you are a writer.
I am a CFP, but I write a blog.
Later that day, another text:
I have read so many of your writings. I’m addicted. LOL
BUT Wait… Here is where the plot turns:
Her husband arrived at my house, money is exchanged, and then…
“ Lisa. I can’t thank you enough for believing in my wife and hiring her. She stepped down from her job from University of Santa Barbara to take care of our autistic child. I never finished college, but I can take the engineer test with California to be a licensed civil engineer. I am working towards it. No one believes in us. … We read your blog of how you were broke and now your living your dream…. You are giving us a chance to change our life.”
I bit my lip, swallowed hard, and hugged him.
“You are an amazing woman, Lisa.”
“No, God is amazing. Nicholle is so talented. You will be great.”
I closed the door and cried… and then yelled.
“You know me God, you really know me. You brought me here. I thought it was about me… but it was about You. I get it.”
Mother Theresa always said, “Serve the one in front of you.”
We are all called to serve. Sometimes, the smallest of ways, can have the greatest impact.
I Corinthians 16:58 ” Nothing you do for the Lord will ever be wasted.”
You can change someone’s story. What is your heart whispering? Will you listen?
P.S. Please check out Minted & Chipped on FB for amazing furniture.
It is 3 a.m. I shift on the pillow. What was that dream?
I lay contemplating. Lights on? Lights off? How far do you wanna take this?
With legs intertwined between sheets, I reach for the light. Oh… This is serious.
I grab my journal, my pen, and soon my thoughts can’t keep up with my scribbling hand.
Love…Why does love consume my daily rhythms and my nightly rems.
And why did I dream of him? And him too?
I beg for answers in the early dawn. God is not kind. He loves a mystery.
But love consumes me; it is the tempo to my day to which I measure… How much love was smashed, in the twenty-four hours?
Did I give love?
Did I get love?
That is the simple equation that must end with a positive integer.
I tally my week like standing in a grocery check-out line; mentally adding up the final cost.
- A “I love you, Lisa” from a ninety-one-year-old client.
- A package received across thousands of miles
- A hug given to blue eyes after surgery
- A tap on a knee from a white lab coat
- A nod to a stranger inviting him to join me on the pew
- A text for coffee served with a side of sweetness
My night awakens my craving … but my day is the real deal.
I give love.
I get love.
“If I gave everything… but did not love others, I would be of no value.” I Corinthians 13:3
Or as the Beatles sang, All you need is love.
I heard the whisper. You are good.
I drop my journal and the pen to the floor.
Until my dreams get introduced to the light…. Lights off. Goodnight.
So do you give? Do you get?
I did it. I finally did it.
I laid my scissors on the table and looked around the garage; empty boxes and paper tossed about.
The last box .
I open it up and found what I have been searching for ; a journal from my Florence vacation. I brushed my hand across the supple suede, lifted it to my nose and breathed in the leather, like an aphrodisiac luring me in .I open the pages; exposing the crisp creamy white, begging to be defiled .
I laid the journal off to the side and stared at the last table in the garage to be let go . Why didn’t I leave this a month ago at the curb in Westlake? There is no room for this in Santa Barbara.
A smirked crossed my face as I remembered what a friend said while packing me, “Nothing significant from your past can go to your future?”
“What d’ya mean?”
“Come on, Lis. You wonder why you don’t have a boyfriend? You still have your old bedroom furniture from Chicago. Let it go.”
With a quick press of the app, I uploaded a photo and tagged it. Free. I let go of my past and opened up my future.
I glanced down at the journal on the table. I turned the page. Time for fresh start. This is saved for something special.
And just like the last unopened box …Maybe, just maybe, God is saving the best for last too. It may be what I was looking for all along.
God has written my story already. I just need to be patient and let him fill the pages.
“You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was written in your book.” Psalm 139:16
Can you let go and let the magic begin?
Disclaimer: the blog is longer but like the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series at the bottom of the tenth inning ,this blog ( hopefully ) will not disappoint . Pull up a chair, pour your favorite beverage, and get ready to enjoy the extra innings.
I am analytical to a fault. I guess it is habit of my day job being a Certified Financial Planner®. I love to crunch numbers and thrive on spread sheets. I have been called endearingly “Mrs. Right Now” – Yes, I like to “ get it done” and check the box but as a planner I have learned sometimes the plan changes without your permission, as did my own plan.
How so?
Here’s the quick “After the Game” recap for those of you who were not an active viewer of all my strike outs and losing seasons.
Fifteen years ago, I went through a divorce, months after, the father of my children became a paraplegic, I struggled financially raising my two little kids as a single mom, was sued by his second wife for his accident, survived a home robbery, and now have been battling Lyme disease for the last few years. It was not the easy pitch I wanted.
Like a suffering Cub’s fan, I would quip, “Well, there is always next year.”
As I waited for my winning season to begin, I dug deep, played hard, and trusted that someday God would grant me a victory.
I had my sights on always winning my ” World Series” and to not settle for ordinary.
Six years ago, Pastor Hudak, my Chicago pastor, when I was advising him on his pending retirement said, “ How long ago was John’s accident?”
I rolled my eyes, “Nine years ago.”
“How have you stayed single, Lisa? You really are spectacular.”
Biting my bottom lip to fight back the tears I said, “It hasn’t been easy. I think God has forgotten me.”
Putting his hand over my shaking hand, he said, “Oh, Lisa. He hasn’t forgotten you. He has big plans for you. Your husband is not here. He is where you are going to be. “
Shaking my head , I asked,“Where am I am going?”
With a comforting smile he said, “You love to run on the beach. I think you are moving to the beach someday. He’s not here. He’s there. It’s coming.”
Well today, like for the Cubs, is a HUGE day. Tonight, the Cubs are headed to the playoffs after winning the World Series last year and I am getting ready to wave my W banner too.
Why?
About two years, I jumped from Chicago to California. And like the Cubs, just making it to the playoffs, this was HUGE. But my dream was to live near the beach and win my own “World Series”.
For the last six months, I spent most weekends looking for a home by the beach to call mine.
The season seemed so long. I would lose securing a contract to buy, one house after another even when my stats were good. I bid over market. I would throw in a letter of “pick me” hoping a bunt would advance me across home plate. Sometimes even God intervened. When I was the only team playing or bidding on a house, he would give me information, to back out of the batter’s box.
God did not allow me to wave my W flag but taught me patience instead. He loved building the excitement through defeat. Running the bases to be tagged out as I slid into home plate was not the fun I signed up for but I learned to dust of the dirt, wrap up my scrapes and wait for the right pitch or house.
What if the Cubs swept the Indians in the World Series? It would not have been as much fun. Instead God allowed the heavens to open up, come pouring down, and create a rain delay. Why? Because he loves the dramatic.
And boy, I have had enough drama to fill a good series.
So today, the Cub’s playoffs begin and through my numerous “a swing and a miss” times a bat, today I am crossing home plate. When God moves; he moves…. And quickly. It wasn’t long after the rain delay in Cleveland that Cubs became World Series Champs. And the same for me.
Yes, I am realizing my dream. I am moving to the beach and as some call it, “Santa Barbara, heaven on earth.”
So maybe my pastor was right. My husband wasn’t there… but maybe he is here. It’s coming.
Doing a walk-through of my house, my real estate agent quipped, “Lisa, there are two sinks in the master bathroom…. Maybe he is coming.”
With a giggle I replied, “Great. I’ll just spit in one and keep the other warm for him.”
The Cubs waited one hundred and six years to win the World Series. I have waited fifteen so what’s another season?
Time to quit checking boxes, be patient, and wait for God to orchestrate the surprise in His dramatic fashion.
Hebrews 12:1 “Let us run with patience the particular race that God has set before us.”
Whatever your current situation … kick back, pour yourself a cold one, and enjoy your view. Trust that God’s timing is always perfect. Go Cubbies!
As you head into your work week, can you be like Polly and accept the easy cracker?
I used to love the sweet taste of ice cream but lately salt is what my body craves. As I dove in the salt water pool today, I caught a mouthful of salt in my mouth that awoke my senses.
After a few laps, my memory recalled another sweet or should I say, salty memory.
I was not in a pool swimming laps but walking laps at “Home of the Hornets”, that’s right my old high school alma mateur, Hindsdale South, with my friend , Mary Flanagan.
Let me take you back to July.
As Mary and I walked around the hurdles of the track field, reminiscing about classes and crushes, we passed by some young boys who just finished soccer practice. One sweaty boy, called out to us, “Hey, would you like a Saltine?” Mary and I stopped in our track.
I blurted out with a side smirk, “What? Is it laced with something?”
The lean athlete responded, “Come on. I’m eating it.”
The optimism of his youth lured me in or maybe with each step towards him I was losing some of my cynicism and willing to become like him, open and carefree
Mary and I walked over and each took a cracker.
We chomped on our Saltine, almost spitting as we laughed and we walked away.
I felt like I was sixteen again, wearing my cheerleading skirt and cheering for the big game. Life was easy at sixteen. It still can be …
Career, relationships and life should be that easy or do they feel like you are running the hurdles?
Funny, in high school I was more individual participant; long jump and gymnastics were my events; but maybe high school was preparing me to be an entrepreneur. I excelled when I don’t have to rely on the performance of others.
Ask yourself where do you excel?
Is your best event a relay race? Do you excel jumping hurdles and the difficult course? Or is your race more like the fifty-yard dash to accept the easy cracker as a reward at the end of the race?
At sixteen, I was probably more the sweet girl but this week, I realized being a little salty is a good thing. Or maybe I am like my favorite ice cream, peanut butter and chocolate, the perfect combo of sweet and salty.
But maybe I don’t have to be salty or sweet. Maybe through a sixteen-year-old boy offering me a cracker, I can learn to accept the easy.
There may be hurdles in life but be willing to walk around them otherwise trying to jump over the hurdles you may end up with road rash.
This week, can you accept the easy cracker that God is offering or whispering to you? Honor your saltiness.
Matthew 5:13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
Ok. Today may not sit well for some of you… But today I cried.
Yep. The girl whose hope rises and sets with every beach sunset, cried. And not the “turn on the facet and let the tears flow” kinda cry. It was more like a gut- wrenching drowning, a rip-tide pulling me under.
I was tired. I hurt. I cried.
I am a dog -person but not any dog. I don’t want a little dog yelping at my feet. I need a big dog, who can run beside me as my running partner.
They say a dog’s personality reflects their owner and I kinda believe it. Hunter, my Vizsla, was all me. He was a bursting ball of energy as we ran the tree- lined streets of Schaumburg, side by side, morning and night. Hunter’s vivacious personality attracted friends easily. But it was his strength that always impressed me; he was solid.
But even a big dog gets tired, hurts, and whines a little bit. Today, I am that dog. I am flat on the mat, hiding beneath covers.
My Lyme disease was drowning me. I thought I was twenty this past week and did four flights in six days. I let my adventurous side get the best of me. My doctor said it best, “You think you are super woman and can do it all. Put away your cape and allow yourself to heal.”
I am not good at showing my soft under-belly, few get to see it. I don’t allow myself to be called off my mat to be petted or comforted. I guess, right or wrong, it is because of the Bible verse, “Do everything without complaining and arguing “Philippians 2:14
But today, hearing my Chicago pastor’s voice, I took down my fence, took off my collar, and whimpered like an injured dog.
Why don’t I allow others to see this side?
Is it because I think I will be less loveable? or better yet, I think no one will want to adopt me? Or rescue me?
My college roommate, Kristin, sent me card that I keep by my desk that reads, God loves the real you… and so do I.
Pastor Greg reminded me that it is ok to want to be healed and that God knows I hurt and suffer. And then he quoted one of my favorite verses, “God will meet all your needs.” Philippians 4:19
But I admit, I am the stubborn dog.
So to you, my friends, today I was tired. I hurt. And I cried. I am resting on the mat. But only for today. Tomorrow I will be back chasing the ball in the yard. After all, someone just may want to rescue me… and I may just allow it.
Can this stubborn girl learn a new trick? With the right treat, I think anything is possible… for all of us.
Back twenty years ago my mother-in-law lovingly said,”Jake is one and half and doesn’t talk. You may want to get him checked.”
A week later as my mom poured batter into a cake pan, Jake did not just say a word, but a whole sentence. With eyes, as big as gumdrops, three words dripped out of his mouth like the cake batter dripping from the bowl in…to the pan, “I WANT CAKE.”
And just like Jake, I wanted cake too.
About four years ago, after a decade of scrimping on crumbs as a single mom, I had enough Midwestern meat and potatoes and I was ready to finally order cake… and I wanted a HUGE piece. Jake (yes, the once speech- challenged boy) was wait-listed at Duke so North Carolina was potentially a future home.
Later that Fall, a quick visit to Colorado, hanging out with college friends, the dessert menu looked appetizing or maybe it was the beer menu? All I knew was North Carolina and Colorado were two slices of cake that tempted me to close the menu and potentially the bland chapter of my tasteless existence.
So fast forward to this past week, with my window down and hair whipping in the wind, I took in the majestic landscape of the Rocky Mountains. The openness of the Colorado mountain range felt right, like a good piece of chocolate cake. A day later, the scent of salt water tantalized my skin as I dipped my toes in the shoreline of Atlantic Ocean at Kure Beach, North Carolina. The purity of white sand was like vanilla cake, simple and sweet.
Colorado and North Carolina, were both good choices like chocolate or vanilla cake but God had something special for me planned, not chocolate or vanilla but red velvet with cream cheese frosting. Something I never would of thought to order but everything I could possibly hope for; served up especially for me.
“Now faith is being certain of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1
So today as I weave the Pacific Coast and see the familiar scene of surfers waiting for the perfect ride on their board and as I wind my way through The Santa Monica Mountains, envisioning hikers off in the distance, I am home. God knew me better than I knew myself. Not any beach. Not any mountain. But the beach and the mountains.
My taste buds are alive with adventure… and that’s the icing on the cake. I’m licking my fingers not wanting to waste a smidge of the sweet creamy taste.
Maybe, just maybe, you can have your cake and eat it too. Choose your cake.
Kure Beach, North Carolina
Rocky Mountains, Colorado
Santa Barbara, California
Last Sunday was so hot I took my top off ; off my jeep, that is. I may live in California but I still ooze with Midwestern blood.
As I parked my car, a man wheeled up and asked,”Hey,do you know where I can grab a cup of coffee?”
Throwing on my straw hat, I nodded and said, “Follow me.”
Attempting to wheel up an incline the man said, “Go ahead. I won’t be able to keep up.”
“No worries. I will push you.”
“Wow. So nice of you.”
“No big deal. I get it. The father of my kids is a paraplegic. ”
I pushed him across the street and we made our way to coffee shop. Over an ice coffee, he told me his story about becoming homeless and because of the kindness of The Santa Barbara Mission he is getting back on his feet.
When we both saw the bottom of our coffee, I said, “Hey, I need to get going. I am looking at some homes today. Maybe looking to move here.”
As we walked away, he said,”I am glad I met you Miss Lisa. You should move here. You will make friends here since you are kind like the people of Santa Barbara.”
I leaned in to his sweat-soaked shirt and with a hug said,”Thanks, Steve.”
I straightened my straw hat and turned to walk away when I heard, “Oh hey, Lisa. Thanks for the push.”
With a crooked smirk I said, “Steve,thanks for the push, too.”
Later that day, I met with my real estate agent, Jim Callahan, and his wife Kristin. We saw a house, near the beach but was not my ideal. I am not sure which one said it but I do remember one of them saying, “I know you want a house, blocks from the beach but there is a really cute cottage near The Mission. You should check it out.”
….And as if God was sending a sign, BOOM, out of nowhere a microburst storm hit. Within five minutes, I was soaked looking like a wet rat. Making my way through flooded and tree-debris streets, drenched or not, I felt a tugging or pushing of some sorts, to head to the next open house.
I walked in. A feeling washed over me like a tide pulling me home to shore. The feeling was unexpected. The house checked no boxes on my spreadsheet but somehow it was everything I wanted. I was… happy. So the control freak in me, needed to let go of the over-thinking and allow for the gentle tugging to reel me in; or like the homeless man from earlier in the day, wheel me in…
I admit, I am a stubborn German. I think I always know best but maybe it takes a push or two to free myself and allow my heart to be… Happy. Thanks to Steve, Jim, and Kristin for the extra push.
“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you your heart’s desire.” Psalm 37:4
And as Paul Harvey always said, “And here’s the rest of the story…” Stay tuned in thirty days for the rest of the story. Can you be brave enough to let go and allow yourself be happy and listen to what God is whispering or pushing you to do?
The saying goes, “You have everything if you have your health…” Three years ago I finished a triathlon and shortly afterwards I started to have weird symptoms; burning, electric shocks, and my body feeling like I was a cell phone set on vibrate. My doctor blamed it on adrenal fatigue but then the laundry list of symptoms starts piling up like the dirty laundry basket of my two teenage athletes. The symptoms of vertigo, tinnitus, night sweats, insomnia, and numbness mirrored the dreadful diseases of MS, Parkinson’s, and ALS . I did not recognize my own reflection in the mirror. I am a buck twenty, maybe a buck and quarter on a good day. After losing twenty pounds over a few months, I found myself sitting in the shower, too weak to stand, hoping the shower would drown my wails of anguish.
After months of MRIs, C-scans, blood work, my doctor was fresh out of ideas and handed me a prescription for Zoloft. I crumpled up the scrap of paper and with a crooked smirk laughed, “Come on. You know me. I have been through a divorce, my ex becoming a paraplegic, raising the kids for the last dozen years by myself, a robbery… Seriously, depression? I will walk my way out of this … just like everything else. I will exercise until I feel better.”
As he walked out the door, he cocked his head around the corner, “Let me know how that works for you?”
Well, it didn’t. No flip turns in the pool would turn my sickness upside down. I was stuck running vicious circles at the track, hoping an answer was around the next bend.
Finally, after a year of misdiagnosis, I had an answer. Lyme disease. Yes, a little crawling tick created all this chaos.
Three year later, watching a crew of wetsuits enter the fog-ridden shore of the Pacific Ocean, I was a little jealous wishing I too could dig my toes in the mushy shore and get in the race. Since my restless energy would not be expended, my curious nature got the best of me. Silently I thought, “Why did this happen to me? Why did I need to be on the sidelines?”
In disappointment, I turned and watched athletes from previous heats cross the finish with smiles plastered across their face, proud of their character of “going the distance”. A smirk crossed over my face, as I realized how far I, too, have come. My course was not easy but through some waves, potholes, and flat tires, my character developed too. God was using a rough course to design a better me.
Anyone who knows me, would testify that I am a strong individual competitor, not needing or wanting direction.( You don’t get the nickname ” sassy pants” for nothing.) I like to think, I became sick so maybe, just maybe, I could be weak.
“For when you are weak, He can be strong.” 2 Corinthians 12: 10
I am better me. I have surrendered that it is ok not to always be the strong one. I will get back in the game. I will walk away and leave Lyme disease in the dust and hopefully, God-willing, swim, bike, and run to a better finish… and maybe, just maybe I will stop being an individual competitor and allow for a running partner to run beside me or better yet run ahead of me to clear the obstacles so I can have an easier finish.
As I breathe in the grape sweetness of wine in the making, my eyes dance at the miles of the vines kissing the horizon.
Dents form on the sides of my mouth and give way to dimples. I cannot disguise my smirk, gushing like grapes in the wine vat.
I feel like Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun when she says , “I got my wish .Everything I asked for …”
Fifteen years ago I could not afford a “happy meal” for my kids and now I am here. I got my wish.
Diane’s character runs parallel to my life. Divorced, loses it all,sad, wandering without direction, jumps to a foreign country( I think California qualifies as foreign ) but like all Rom-Com movies , the heroine’s train changes track .
Ms. Lane narrates at the end of the film , “They say they built the train tracks over the Alps between Vienna and Venice before there was a train. They built it anyway. They knew one day a train would come. Any arbitrary turn along the way and I would be elsewhere. I would be different.”
And so would I.
Diane’s soothing voice closes the film like dew on magenta grapes.
“Unthinkably good things can happen. Even late in the game. It is such a surprise.”
I tilt my sun hat to cover my blushing. The last few years have been a complete surprise. I never envisioned that my sour grapes would turn sweet .
“I don’t know where the path is leading but I know who is leading the path .” Proverbs 4:10
Embrace the twists of turns of life and dare to be surprised. I intend to.
Maybe like the movie, a Tuscan Villa has my name on it with an American gentleman who lives in Florence, ready to carry me over the threshold.
If that is God’s plan, I’ll be all in ; like a grape stomper-barefoot and all.
I turn the last page of the book, The Circle Maker , and set it on the sea glass table beside me. I recline in the wicker lounge chair and take a deep breathe in. A combination of salt and rosemary lingers in the air as I take in the amazing balcony views of the Greek island of Mykonos.
I am a million miles from home but which home? The new home I have made in Los Angeles, the city of angels or the place of my childhood and last 48 years, Chicago, the Windy City.
Mykonos is so windy I feel like I am being whipped like a sailboat on the shoreline of Lake Michigan. Mykonos’ intoxicating turquoise waters lures me in, completely heavenly like the city of angels, Los Angeles. I observe the palm tree branches blowing in the breeze and think of my friends from Los Angeles to Chicago and like Mark Batterson, the author of The Circle Maker encouraged, I circle them with prayer.
I text :
“I read an amazing book on this trip called The Circle Maker. It is about an old testament man, Honi, who circled his prayers. He asked persistently for rain. Right now I am thinking of my friends from the West Coast to the Midwest; and circling them and their families with prayers of love, peace, and safety. I hope you feel lifted up .”
The response was overwhelming …
‘I do 🙂 you helped me through 24 hrs of travel. Just driving from airport home!!!! Had a weird delay at Charles de Gall, somebody left an unattended bag and it was creepy…felt uncertain with all the issues there this summer. Thanks for the circles :-)’
That’s amazing!! I feel peaceful this morning and optimistic. 😊 Thank you. I will read too and you are in my circle. 🙏
Thank you for sending love our way! Everyone woke up so happy and full of life this morning. Today is my Birthday and this was my first text .
‘Nice to hear from you! When I got your text just now I was outside gazing at the stars after my walk, thank you for your prayer!’
As the texts came in, I thought of how blessed I am. If I did not have this patio quiet time how could I lift up my friends to the one who hears me?
This alone time is all mine. No husband. No kids. Just me and the wind.
I picked up my book, glanced one more time at the cyan blue Mediterranean Sea and felt the wind whisper, “Your time is coming. Soon.” God’s timing is always perfect. The winds are changing.I will wait for the soft calming breeze.
“He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed.”
Psalm 107:29
“God is for you. If you don’t believe that, then pray small timid prayers; if you believe it, then you will pray big audacious prayers…Who you become is determined by how you pray.” ~ Mark Batterson author of The Circle Maker
I challenge you all to boldly circle your friends and family in prayer . Would love to hear your stories . Email them at laschomer@twc.com .
By the way, I have not lost my sweet tooth. I still crave a husband like the scrumptious taste of baklava topped with a creamy side of vanilla ice cream.
Climbing through the tattered rubble this morning, I lost my footing on the steps of the Acropolis. I sat on the marble steps and watched my college kids race to the top. I wipe my smirk and sweat from lips. I no longer see Ancient Greece in the distance but visions of Mickey & Minnie dance in the haze.
Even though the long day of Disney left my kids acting like Grumpy;they were not faking it – I was .
Unknown to them we were not on a magical kingdom ride since I was Cinderella about to lose my Prince Charming. Soon I would be like Snow White lost in the forest. We were tossed on the Mad Tea Party Ride, spinning like cups, ready to vomit, until the ride broke. This is where the beauty started.
Sixteen years later, as I watched my kids race to the top, I kicked the rubble at my feet, adjusted my sun hat and my focus.
Off in the distance, I saw the masterpiece of the ruins, The Pantheon and my kids. I climbed each step like an Olympian, torched raised high in victory .
We stood firm on the marble as the fellow tourist took our photo. That moment like the monument was HUGE!
We survived the merry-go-round of life.
No more faking smiles.
No more standing on shaking ground.
Sometimes you need to fall, breakdown, and kick some rubble to appreciate the beauty .
I may love the beach and the sand but ” In Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.”
There is beauty in the breakdown.
Today Facebook reminded me of this special day, two years years ago.
July 17, 2015 will forever be etched on my brain. I am so grateful for all my friends who …supported me through my journey, my new CA friends, but mostly to God who makes me brave and happy. He had the plan all along.
” The heart that is brave is not ours; it is God’s ” ~ Randall Wallace
JULY 17, 2015
In the last 14yrs, through the divorce,the father of my children becoming a paraplegic, being a single parent , being broke, dealing with a home robbery, and now Lyme disease, the grace of God sustained my hope and gave me strength to daily walk forward . Well today I did not just walk, I took a leap . I signed a lease in CA and purchased a one way tix to LAX . Gotta trust God has the plan. So grateful to all my friends and family who have blessed my amazing journey . I have seen Jesus reflected through you . I may not know where the path is leading but I know who is leading the path . I am ready yet scared to start the next chapter . I will miss you all dearly & until we meet again ” I thank God everytime I remember you .” Phil 1:3
It is 2 am and I am awoken to my t-shirt soaked like I just jumped in a pool. (Guess my swimming dream was my wet reality) . This “herxing effect” hopefully is sweating out the toxins and drowning my Lyme disease “bug” in the process. I grab the spare t-shirt and my phone off of the night stand. In hopes to coax myself back to sleep, I peruse Twitter. One of my “friends” retweeted a tweet from a Glennon Doyle. I am not that familiar with her so I click on the link that expands her quote.
“From an early age, we are conditioned to ignore the voice within when considering who we are and what our goals are, and instead to look outward—to our family, friends, church, community, and even our critics. In a million different ways we ask them: What should I want? What should I be? And the more our inner whispers fade from disuse….”
The words voice within & whisper jump off the page and lit up my screen and my brain. (How could it not, when my blog is called the whisper within?) I acknowledge Ms. Doyle’s voice so I continue to read her post.
“…In my latest column for @oprahmagazine, I share my coin-toss strategy — a tool we can use to trick our inner voice into screaming until we can hear her whispering.”
Reading her words, I am back in the deep-end of the pool, drowning in sadness. Why do we need” to trick our inner voice into screaming until we can hear her whispering?”
I am not challenging her words. Maybe they are true but I am asking,” Is that how most women feel? Is that why she has a loyal following of seekers?
I sit up in my soaked sheets and questions spin in my brain like the ceiling fan above. “Maybe it is me? Maybe I was born without the typical “girl” approval -seeking gene? Maybe I am a product of my father, a stoic German, who never allowed for a beer stein to be raised for an Oktoberfest “pity party”? But maybe I am the result of the last fifteen years when I became divorced, financially broke, and my ex became a paraplegic. I learned very quickly when I was caught in the racing rapids of my life there was no time for indecision. I had to reach for that life- jacket (and fast) or be drowned plunging over the waterfall.
My memory blurs like the ceiling fan blades, as I recall all the potential boulders in my river; divorce, ex a paraplegic, being broke as a single mom with two little kids to raise , a lawsuit from my ex’s wife, for his snowmobile accident, a home robbery, and now Lyme disease.
I let my head sink back into the mushy pillow in surrender. And then it hits me, “The key is surrender. You need to armor yourself with a life jacket.”
I look down at the phone and read Ms. Doyle’s last words, “I use it to ask myself what I want instead of asking the world what it wants from me. It helps me forget about being perfect and focus instead on being free.”
This is where I disagree. I do not ask what I want or what the world wants from me but what does God want for me?
That’s right, I have learned to surrender that someone had all my twists and turns of my kayak figured out. God. He did not allow my kayak to tip. When I went to Him, he jumped in , gave me an extra paddle to navigate and His life- jacket as protection. And he still does.
“If you want to know what God wants you to do, ask him, and he will gladly tell you.” James 1: 4
No need to trick our inner voice. No need for a coin toss . And no need to kayak alone. All you need to do is be brave enough to get in the water , seek God in all you do and he will gladly whisper to you.
“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it” Psalm 119: 13
P.S. This came in HUGE this week as I asked God, “If you don’t want this, take my kayak out of the water.”… And he did. ” He leads me besides the quiet streams… ” Psalm 23:1
Yesterday was a steaming hot Sunday at the farmer’s market. I laid my spinach, cilantro, and zucchini on the table and a beautiful young girl took my produce and proceeded to weigh it.
The chocolate brown eyes looked up at me and sweetly said, “That will be 4.25.” I proceeded to hand her a twenty and without a calculator, she handed me three quarters and said, “75 makes five.” Then laid a five and ten in my hand, “ten and twenty.” As she took my zucchini off the scale, I caught my own reflection in the metal; not of the grown me, but the little girl I once was. I put my produce in my straw bag and smiled at the girl, “What is your name?”
“Arissa.”
“Arissa, you are a bright girl. How old are you?”
“Ten.”
“Arissa, when I was your age, I too, sold vegetables. My brothers and sister sold straight from our garden on a card table in front of my house. You are a hard worker. You have a bright future.”
As I started to walk away, I saw a vibrant woman standing nearby arranging produce under the tent.
I approached her and said, “Is that your daughter?’
“Yes.”
“My name is Lisa, What’s your name?”
” Alma.”
“Alma, you should be proud. Not only is Arissa here working on this hot day when other kids are playing inside but she is smart, good at math. She will do great in life,”
“Thank you.”
“I mean it. You see, I was just like your little girl. I, too, worked with my brothers and sister selling vegetables back in the day before organized farmers markets. I loved to count the money at the end of day and today I am a wealth manager. Your daughter can and become anything she wants,”
Alma smiled and then with her head held high said, “Thank you. She is good at math and I keep encouraging her to do well in school.”
“Alma, you are a good mom.”
My eyes glanced at the beautiful dimpled cheeks, “Arissa, keep working hard. God has big plans for you.”
They say the purest vision of our self is when we are children. When our dreams cannot be altered at corrupted by the world influences.
As I stepped out of the tent into the blasting heat, I looked back at the Alma and Arissa, and I felt God whisper questions.
What are we teaching our children? Do they know how to work? Are we depriving them opportunities to learn basic skills and develop a work ethic? Or even realize their talents and explore their gifts?
I was lucky. My parents “allowed” for me and siblings to spend Summers in Chicago around a card table and a scale, selling vegetables grown in our yard. Today, ironically, because of that road-side stand, my oldest brother Don is the CFO of an organic agriculture company. My brother Roger, was the best salesman hands down as he would rattle off tomato deals, “59 cents a pound or two pounds for a dollar.” Today he owns Blue Creek Produce, a produce distributor specializing in “garden to table food.” My sister Debbie was the most likeable little worker is the best accounts payable supervisor, and I loved to count the money in the green tin box at the end of day. Today, I manage my own wealth management practice. Summers spent working on our road side stand as kids helped us realize our gifts.
Today, I saw the gift that the world has, in the potential of an ambitious girl named, Arissa. Don’t overlook your child’s gift and potential by not allowing them the opportunity to work. Can you be brave, like Alma, and listen to the Whispers Within?
” Teach a child to choose the right path & when he is older will remain upon it.” Proverbs 22:6
Happy Fourth of July. As I walked by flag-adorned lawns this morning, my thoughts brought me back to our forefathers. They fought for independence and to not be held a hostage to England. They wanted a fresh start, to escape. My mind jumped like a cricket on the grass as I recalled a time I wanted to escape, roughly fifteen years ago.
As a single mom, with money being tight, the kids and I rarely ever ate out. But tonight I did not have the energy to cook, so I took the easy way out for a change and ordered a pizza. Parking the car in front of Jake’s Pizza Parlor, it should have been a routine pick-up, but it was anything but routine. Walking in with Jake and Tarah, looking at the cashier, I said, “Hi. I’m picking up our pizza.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Then I saw it on the wall. As the man walked to the back of the store, I saw it clear as day—a flyer that read:
“ John, a thirty-seven-year-old police detective, is paralyzed from the waist down after a February snowmobile accident in Wisconsin. He is a fourteen year veteran of the department, battles escalating medical costs from his permanent spinal cord injury.
On April 6th, a benefit will be held.
Smack dab in the middle of the flyer was John’s picture in black and white. As the pizza guy laid the pizza on the counter, Jake, tugged at my jeans and pointed at the flyer, and asked, “Mommy, why’s Daddy’s picture on the wall?”
Suddenly, I lost my appetite.
As I was fumbling through my purse trying to pull out my wallet, I caught the pizza guy looking at me, dumbfounded. His face was stone cold. He glanced down at receipt outside the pizza box, then looked up at me.
Jake always demanding answers to his questions. He tugged at my jacket and once again asked, this time a little louder, “Mommy, why’s Daddy’s picture up there?”
The pizza guy looked at the picture then into my eyes. I did not say a word. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand and closed his eyes ever so briefly. Looking down at Jake, then at me, almost right through me, his eyes offered condolences. He then pleaded, “Please just take the pizza. It’s on us.”
I did not know what to say except the obvious, “Thanks.”
By nature, I don’t play needy, but needy was being dished my way and it was a very deep dish, indeed.
Back then, I felt held hostage to my life in Schaumburg. I needed to escape. I hated that my life, my story, was plastered around town. The only escape I could afford was a short ride around the bend to South Haven, Michigan. In Michigan, my monkeys and I were free and happy.
That was my story but I like our forefathers I opted for a different ending. I decided to dump the bitter “tea” and start drinking coffee. Are you free or are you held hostage to your “England” and to your past? Is it time to dump the tea and start drinking coffee?
Don’t wait until you hear the loud boom of fireworks to claim your freedom. God’s loudest directions are through his whispers. What is God whispering to you?
Follow me on FB @ The Whisper Within.
Father’s Day 2002.
I remember the day this photo was taken clearly. That was fifteen years ago, ironically, Father’s Day. This was the day I found out that I needed to be brave and be single. Little did I know HOW brave I needed to be. Months later, I was divorced, financially broke, and my ex became a paraplegic.
That year, I did my best to just hold everything together with a safety pin. Jake and Tarah deserved that, at least. I felt tired, broke, and hopeless. I had learned to scrimp on everything and live off very little. McDonald’s was an infrequent dining experience, free videos from the library saved a trip to Blockbusters and the hefty $3.69 rental fee, garage sale shopping became an art form, and trips to Target were only made to acquire necessities.
I learned to be both mom and dad. I know it is stereotypical, but mom is the “go-to” for a hug, permission, or an encouraging word and dad steps into the light, front and center in matters of money, direction, or maybe unwanted disciple. My kids never knew when they approached me if they were going to get “mom” or “dad”. If they didn’t like the answer they would quip, “Where’s mom?”
Here are seven lessons, I learned about being a dad and a single mom.
1) Dad typically makes the money and has the burden of being the provider. No one holds mom, out on a line to dry, for losing her job.
2) Dad’s don’t get the luxury of whining. You need to put on your suspenders holding up your trousers and “ Man-Up.”
3) Dad’s don’t get be cute. They hold the heavy plate of responsibility. You want cute, “Go to mom!”
4) . There is no game of “tag-your it.” You are always it. So take a time-out and learn to sit on the sidelines kick back and enjoy a good “cigar” or a big bowl of ice cream.
5) The decisions are always yours. There is no democracy. There is no polling. It is all you, but thankfully it is all YOU. There is no “second-guessing spouse” playing, “Monday Morning Quarterback. Call your play, get your team in position, and go for it.
6)Dad is usually the “heavy hand”. If I had a dime for every time I heard, “You just wait until your father comes home,” … Own up! Being the dad isn’t for sissies.
7) Being dad is a thankless job. Mom gets all the cute handmade cards throughout the year. Dad is remembered today.
It may be a thankless job, being both mom and dad but occasionally you may get surprised.
Fifteen years ago, I struggled to mask my tears as my six-year-old son whispered to me, “Mommy, are you alright?” “Yeah, honey.” But I was unable to convince my smart boy.
“Don’t worry, Mommy; ‘God will meet all your needs.’ Philippians 4:19.” I realized nothing gets passed God. He had the big and small details of my life and used my own little boy to teach me the biggest lesson.
Today, the little boy is 21 and my little girl is 20. I am proud that I am their “Go-To” with their tough questions, as I happily pour myself a scotch(or Fat Tire), kick back in my recliner ( my beach towel) and breathe in the sweet taste of a Cuban ( or salt-water breeze) and listen to the Whisper Within. Happy Father’s Day.
Do you remember what you were like as a kid ? I do . Summers meant riding my bike around until dinner time and then back out , giggling at whatever silliness crossed my path .
I can still feel my pig tails whipping my face as I would swing for hours , challenging myself to jump off the swing. Each day brushing off the pebbles embedded in my knees, trying to reach towards the personal best .
Do you hear your silliness calling you ?Why not unleash that kid tonight & give him/ her a pass to swim past dark ?
I think your boss will understand . Just tell him my child was whispering to me & I ran to answer . What is your Whisper Within ?
It is Sunday . I am a habit of creature . The above picture is my Sunday ritual – church and then the farmer’s market .Nick, my avocado farmer said ,”You are my favorite customer . You are always so happy . I think we need to take a picture and show your Chicago friends how happy you are.”
I am happy.
This simple life is what I craved. I wanted lazy weekends relaxing at the beach or adventurous ones maybe hiking a mountain.
I recently moved from Chicago to California and God surrounded me with two friends, Judy and Marji, who live their dream every weekend. They hike and kayak almost every weekend. They know how to rejuvenate. Do you?
Here are 7 weekend activities to create a more productive work week.
1 ) Sleep in . Give your body & your brain permission to relax. In our ” high productivity ” go- go – go” society – we lack the downtime & therefore our mind, body, and spirit suffer.
2)Create alone time and read outside – the view helps relax the mind.
3)Go for a walk or hike with a friend – sharing laughs & stories. The time spent with Judy and Marji lift me up, plus I get benefit of the endorphin release. Bonus.
4)Have a Sunday ritual – whether it is attending a farmers market, going to church , or going for a bike ride .
5)Do your laundry- clean your house but only for an hour. Yes, you heard me right I find I have a better work week if my physical space is not cluttered .- cluttered house equals cluttered mind .
6)Take time to hug someone . Lacking personal contact is the biggest emotional drain. How often during the work day do you hug someone ? You have to get it sometime .
7)Go to bed early. Turn off the news, quiet your mind, and envision what a happy work week looks like .
What can you add to the list ? You need to create your own joy .
You are the only one who is responsible for your happiness . Give yourself permission to rest .
” And on the seventh day .. God rested .”
Are you brave enough to live the authentic life your heart desires ?
What is your soul whispering to you ? Will you listen ?
Follow me on FB at the Whisper Within .
Funny to think it was five years ago that I wrote this Facebook post.
May 28, 2012
” You know you are living in the wrong place when you you feel complete bliss running the lakefront downtown instead of the streets of Schaumburg.”
That was five years ago when I lived in Chicago … and now I live in CA.
When we were children, we played in the streets. We did not know the meaning of fear. I know I would swing high on a playground swing and when I would reach the top of the arc, I would jump and try to land as far as I could. I was not competing against anyone- except myself . I was not afraid to get a little “road rash”, if it meant a greater achievement for the day. I would dust the pebbles that were embedded in my knees and know tomorrow, I would try for a greater distance.
Can you say this is true for you today? Or have you lost your inner-child like wonder?
Are you just doing enough to get by?
If money, time, and responsibilities were not an option, what would you do to let the child in you free?
God gave you talents and he expects you to use them. You do the world a disservice by not using your gifts. Dream Big!
God knows our heart & plants the whispers, all we need to do is listen … and daily walk forward to get our authentic self .
Yes, the picture is ME-five years ago. I am not afraid to wipe out, dust off the sand, and get back up. It is time to release the child in you and dream BIG! Be brave!
Follow me on Facebook at The Whisper Within.
” Be strong and courageous. The Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9
Funny I wrote this 5 yrs ago and now I live in CA. God knows our heart & plants the whisper all we need to do is listen … and daily walk forward to get our authentic self . Follow me on FB at the Whisper Within .
July 4th 2001. Not single yet… but definitely beach bound.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who make hard choices !
Because I loved my kids …the benefits of being raised by a single mom …
1) You learned if you didn’t get up for school a bucket of water would be dumped in you .
2) You learned that mouthing off would result in a “free pass” to walk to school in the middle of winter .
3) You learned that misbehaving at x-mas eve service would earn you… the ” push-ups for presents ” prize.
4) You learned that NOT learning math was NOT an option- I was not afraid to be called a math nazi .
5) You learned if something stunk – it was time to crawl under the deck to see what creature was rotting – usually a raccoon .
6) You learned how to earn a wage at 8 & 9 yrs old – I think $5 is a fair wage for staining a deck .
7) You learned summer was not a vacation from homework … that worksheets before breakfast is part of life .
8) You learned that no matter what , WE were a team – poor but surviving .
9) You learned that I was always in your corner .I would pour every ounce into you – but you had to do the same – FOR YOU !
10) You learned that I love you – no matter what ! #mothersday #momlife #mom #singlemom
Because I loved my kids …the benefits of being raised by a single mom …
1) You learned if you didn’t get up for school a bucket of water would be dumped in you .
2) You learned that mouthing off would result in a “free pass” to walk to school in the middle of winter .
3) You learned that misbehaving at x-mas eve service would earn you… the ” push-ups for presents ” prize.
4) You learned that NOT learning math was NOT an option- I was not afraid to be called a math nazi .
5) You learned if something stunk – it was time to crawl under the deck to see what creature was rotting – usually a raccoon .
6) You learned how to earn a wage at 8 & 9 yrs old – I think $5 is a fair wage for staining a deck .
7) You learned summer was not a vacation from homework … that worksheets before breakfast is part of life .
8) You learned that no matter what , WE were a team – poor but surviving .
9) You learned that I was always in your corner .I would pour every ounce into you – but you had to do the same – FOR YOU !
10) You learned that I love you – no matter what ! #mothersday #momlife #mom #singlemom
Congrats to all the moms who make it work!
“Blessed is he who is kind to the needy.”—Proverbs 14:21
My eyes were captivated with the water fountain eight floors below. As I gazed out my floor-to-ceiling windows, I caught my reflection and smoothed out my navy blue suit. It had been so many years that I had been out of the business suit that I was not sure the suit would suit me anymore. So many questions filled my thoughts. Will I be able to fit in at Waterstone Financial Group? Will my co-workers like me? Respect me? How about the clients? Will they accept me? Can I do it all—be a mom and full time financial planner? How do I use the copy machine? Where’s the bathroom? From the complex to the simple, the questions all seemed overwhelming.
“Do you have a minute? Can I come in?”
“Yeah sure, Steve”
“So how is it going for you so far, Lisa?”
“Pretty good.”
“Good. I’m glad. I know I really don’t know you, but I’ve heard good things about you.”
“You have?”
“Yes, just a little bit. I’ve heard you’re very smart and good at what you do.” He paused and then slowly added, “But, more importantly, I’ve heard that you have a caring heart.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered.” I felt a mild blush color my cheeks.
“Lisa, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?”
“Sure.”
“There’s a little old lady up in Rockford whose husband has recently passed away. She’s called several times to another Waterstone representative but is not getting a return call. She needs help reregistering her account to reflect her husband’s passing. I know there really is no money in it for you, and that it is a good hour away, but I was just wondering if you would be so kind? She really could use the help.”
Without hesitating, I responded, “Of course. I’m happy to help.”
“Thanks, Lisa. And, if I haven’t told you already, as the president of Waterstone, I’m happy to have you on board. You’re a good addition to the office.”
As he walked out my office door, I thought, this whole work thing just may be… good.
Saturday came, and I was so busy getting acclimated to the new work environment that I almost forgot it was my birthday. After an hour drive, I made the left-hand turn that brought me straight into a trailer park. I thought to myself, Well, this is not the normal office visit for most CFPs®, but what would Jesus do? He always said to be humble and help the poor and widowed, so I guess I am being called to do both.
Upon arrival to Marilyn’s trailer home, I took a deep breath. Alright, if this is where you want me, God, so be it.
Who am I to question God and his motives?
At first glance, I came to the conclusion that Marilyn was a sweet old lady. She was wearing a blue flowered house frock dress, a navy blue long sweater, and slippers. She made no pretense on her appearance or who she was but simply greeted me warmly, “Hi Lisa. Thanks for coming out. Did you find my house okay?”
“Yes, thanks, Marilyn. No problem.”
Pointing to the kitchen table she continued, “Is this okay? Can we sit here?”
“Yes, this is fine.”
“I know I didn’t know your husband, or you, for that matter, but I’m sorry. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy.”
“No. It has not been easy, but thank you.”
“So, Marilyn, I printed off a copy of your last statement; here it is.”
Taking out her reading glasses, she took the folded copy, peered at it and said,
“Yep, that’s about right.”
“Looks like you and your husband had a trust, with both of you as trustees.”
Chuckling, she added, “If you say so; all of this confuses me.”
Her face started to deflate like an innertube. She let the tears flow down her cheeks.
I leaned forward, reached out, and covered her hand with mine. “You’re going to be alright, Marilyn.”
“I don’t know. I’m alone, and I’m not sure if I can even live on what I have.”
Putting my CFP® hat on, it was time to ask the hard questions. “So, you are concerned about how you’re going to live? Let’s talk about it, Marilyn. My job is to help you live and be happy. Is it okay to ask you some questions, so I can see if I can help you?”
“Sure.”
“So, let’s start out with what you spend; do you have any idea?”
“Yeah, kinda. My place here is paid for, so there is no mortgage. Ummm, let me go get my bank statements. That will tell me what I spend.”
“Yes, that’s the best place to start.”
As Marilyn made her way to a back room, I took a quick glance around. Her “happy abode” mirrored a typical elderly lady’s home, with plenty of knitted afghans and dollies in sight. Nothing looked like it had been updated in years, but I am sure she was comfortable in her humble surroundings.
“I think I found what you were looking for.”
Sitting down a little closer to me, she put down the bank statement on the kitchen table.
I nodded. “Yes, that will help.”
Putting on her readers she said, “Let’s see, it looks like I spend about three thousand dollars a month.
“Okay. That’s a good start. Do you know what income you bring in Marilyn?”
“What do you mean, Lisa?”
“Well, do you receive Social Security payments?”
“Ya, I know I used to get around $2500 when my husband was alive but now, I think it is half the amount since I won’t get his anymore, will I?”
“No, Marilyn, I’m sorry. You get to choose either his or yours, but not both.”
“Ya, that’s what I thought. So, if that’s the case, how am I gonna live?”
“Umm I am not sure. So let’s see, we do have these investments…” I showed her a copy of the most recent statement. “We could have the dividends paid to you as an option but that won’t make up the difference. We may have to start selling some of the investments to give you additional income.”
“Oh, no. My husband said never to sell any of the investments. He always said to hold on to them. It was our rainy day money.”
“But Marilyn, I know your husband would hate to see you like this, worrying and all.”
“I’ll manage, don’t worry, Lisa. Why don’t you just help me get my husband off the account for now? I’ll worry about everything else later.”
“Okay, Marilyn, if you insist. We’ll start there. By any chance, do you have a copy of Burt’s death certificate?”
“I do. I’ll be right back.”
As Marilyn made her way to the back room again, vibrating sounds emanated from my purse. Leaning down, I pulled my cell from the side pocket. Glancing at the screen, I spotted a text from my friend, Chris: ‘Hey, Lis, are we still on for your birthday? Dinner and a movie?’
I quickly typed back…Yes. I think. I’m in a meeting. It’s taking longer than I thought. I’ll text when I’m finished.
As I put my phone away, Marilyn walked in the room, dragging her feet, almost tripping on her slippers. “Here, Lisa. Here is the death certificate.”
“Okay, Marilyn, I need you to sign this form stating that you want to be listed as the only trustee of the trust. Sign right here, Marilyn.”
I noticed her hand shake a little. I was unsure if it was nervousness or arthritis.
Marilyn signed on the line and then slid the paper over to me along the oak wooden table.
“Good. That will be updated on Monday.”
“Lisa. Thank you. You were kind enough to come out. No one would even return my call.”
“It’s okay, Marilyn. I think this is how God has called me to serve.”
“Oh, Lisa, I don’t really know you, but I feel lucky to have met you. It is rare to find someone who truly cares.”
“Thanks, but I have to admit I’m a little worried about you. How are going to survive?”
Marilyn put both her hands on the kitchen table for leverage and then pushed her chair away from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Her house dress swayed from side to side as she made her way to the back room.
What’s she up to now?
As she made her way back to kitchen table, I noticed Marilyn not only had a white shawl covering her shoulders but a stack of white papers, about six inches high, covering her forearms.
Releasing the papers to me she asked, “Do you think these could help?”
I took the stack of papers and placed them on the kitchen table.
“So, will they help?” Marilyn asked with round eyes.
I looked at the stack in front of me and realized they were not just any papers but stock certificates of AT&T, Comcast, and Verizon.
“Marilyn, where did you get these?”
“Burt always had them in a box under the bed. He said just keep them. They were for a rainy day. So do you think that maybe they are worth something? That they could help me?”
“Oh my goodness. Yes, Marilyn.”
I quickly pulled up Bloomberg on my phone and researched stock quotes to obtain price information. Taking out my calculator, I did some quick estimations on what all the paper in front of me equated to. A million dollars’ worth of stock? Not believing my eyes, I added the certificates up one last time. “Marilyn, these stocks are worth about a million dollars.”
“What?” Her eyebrows shot up in shock.
“I said that these stocks are worth a million dollars. Marilyn, you’re a millionaire.”
“Are you sure? It can’t be.”
“Yes, I’m sure. You’re going to be fine, Marilyn.”
Her face became flush and her eyes began to water. “Oh my God! I don’t believe it. Burt always said to save the box for a rainy day.”
“Well, Marilyn, today it’s not raining. It’s pouring!”
I went on to explain the formalities of how I would reregister the physical stock certificates into book entry form, start paying the dividends to her in cash, and establish a direct deposit so that her income worries would be no more. She would have a comfortable and secure retirement.
When all the business was done, Marilyn walked me to the door and hugged me. “You truly are a gift.”
“Today’s my birthday. You were my gift, Marilyn. I was happy to help.”
Driving out of the trailer park, I shook my head, looking at my humble surroundings. Who would have thought that this is how the day would turn out?
I guess I should never question how, when, or where God wants to use me. Heck, I am sure even the stable owner never thought his barn would be the birth place of Jesus… and, like that miracle, today felt like a miracle too, delivered for a sweet old lady, named…. Marilyn.
As the old saying goes, it is better to give then to receive. No birthday cake or presents were needed. This birthday girl adorned a giant smile, and not even a party hat would make her outfit more complete.
We Rise By Lifting Others
“Blessed is he who is kind to the needy.”—Proverbs 14:21
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Facebook kindly reminded me that four years ago today, I was in North Carolina as my son was contemplating University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, and Duke University as possible college choices. I remember standing clear as as the blue sky in the photo, dreaming of the beach cottage to call mine. I was ready that someday, maybe ten to fifteen years from then, I would retire on the East Coast and be a storybook character in one of Nicholas Spark’s silly romantic novels. My straw hat was ready!
I was wrong. God had completely different plans for me – only two short years later. He moved me from the Windy City to the City of Angeles. How appropriate! He knows I have never been about a big house but more about people with a big heart. He knows my soul and surrounded me with the simple joys of smiles, sea glass, and sand.
This is where my soul meets my body.
“We can make our plans but the final outcome is in God’s hand.” Proverbs 16:9
I am glad I learned to let go and let God…and that I kept my straw hat handy.
Anyone who knows me, understands that I crave companionship like a big bowl of peanut butter and chocolate ice cream but ever since I was diagnosed with Lyme disease I have been forced to live without sugar and dairy. Double whammy! I have learned to eat a balance diet and lead a balanced life but yesterday my craving crept in. I had the urge for both the sweet taste of empty calories and the sweet taste of love. Double Whammy! The emptiness hurt.
Last night I walked into my church’s great room to feed the homeless and a set of blue “puppy” eyes called me over. I felt God almost nudge me. Go over. I sat next to the disheveled man and we talked like friends. As we bowed our heads to pray before dinner he asked if he could hold my hand. I obliged. After the prayer, he looked at me and said, “You have kind and genuine eyes. You can tell you are special. You really made my night. I am lonely but tonight I don’t feel so alone.”
I blushed and said, “Funny, Joe. I was ready to tell you the same thing. You made me happy tonight, too.” I got up from the table and gave Joe a hug and funny feeling came over me. I felt loved.
It was kinda like the dog rescue bumper sticker. “Who rescued who?”
No ice cream was needed. My craving was satisfied. I don’t want empty calories or just a sweet taste of ice cream. No “In and Out” drive thru meal either. I am a Midwestern girl and am waiting for a steak and baked potato with all the fixings.
We all desire companionship. Joe was starving for it. Who do you know that may need to feel love? It could be someone in front of you at the check-out lane. A hug may make the difference. I hope that you hear God whisper to you. If you are single, God just may be using your single time for reason. I know he is using mine.
Facebook page is up and running.
Hello my faithful followers! I have been told it is much easier to follow & share my blog using Facebook . The page is up and running. Copy link on your address bar: https://www.facebook.com/thewhisperwithin/ LIKE, FOLLOW , and SHARE ! Blessings to you all and may you patiently wait for the Whispers Within.
Much love, Lisa
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2002 was the year my life forever changed… divorced and shortly afterwards my ex became a paraplegic. That year, I had learned to scrimp on everything and live off very little. McDonald’s was an infrequent dining experience, free videos from the library saved a trip to Blockbusters and the hefty $3.69 rental fee, garage sale shopping became an art form, and trips to Target were only made to acquire necessities. My kids were five and six. We were team, poor but surviving. I thought for sure I would remarry and pretty quickly,but my plans were not God’s plans.The financially worry was taken off the table but he never let my potential husband pull up a seat to join me, even for dessert. By 2010, when my first born entered high school I made a deal with God, “I get it. You want me to stay single. Fine. I’ll take your deal and raise it by two chips… but by the time I’m 50 I don’t want to be dating.”
Well, this week I turned 50 … and without a husband in sight. I thought God forget to deal me my cards. Before I could blow out my birthday candle a friend reminded me , “Lisa once again you were not specific with your prayers to God .You said you did not want to be dating and you’re not!” The room of friends giggled like schoolgirls at a sleepover.
As I blew out my candle I was eight years again with braces and pigtails making a wish. I know it is bad luck to tell your wish but my wish doesn’t need any luck. You see, I no longer wish for a husband (Oh I still want one )… but I wished that I keep surrendering to HIS Plan. I see God has granted me all my wishes in HIS time. The beach. The mountains. And good friends.
I know God loves me and knows my heart. There are no more deals since I am waiting for the real deal( and so should you!) Proverbs 20:24 ” I don’t know where the path is leading but I know who is leading the path.” I am 50 and happy. No deals. No wishes. Only God’s whispers. I will bravely cross the bridge to the other side and willingly walk to where God is leading me. Can you be brave enough to wait and listen to the Whispers Within?
The Whisper Within 