The Whisper Within

" Believing that God powers strange coincidences and the journey that lies ahead."


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lisa buck tooth

Ever since I was a little girl, I knew I was different but not in the normal way that one wants to be. My first recollection of this was in second grade. I was not pretty by normal standards in fact my nickname was “Buck Tooth Beaver”. Kids can be so cruel. If I couldn’t be the “pretty girl” at least I could be the “smart girl” or “nice girl”. At times it was very painful to be teased, but at other moments I knew it was NOT who I was. I knew deep in my soul that I was special. My second grade teacher, Mrs. Succop told me so. (God bless her, wherever she is today!) She wrote on my report card,” You can truly tell Lisa has Jesus in her heart through her words and actions. She is Jesus’ little lamb.” (I think my mom still has that report card today if you want to see it! Ha!)

Mrs. Succop had the kindest spirit and inspired me to have a caring heart. She was an example of a servant and I wanted to be like her. Years later, as a CFP®, I take my calling to serve very seriously. I am blessed to serve wonderful clients who have trusted me through the good and bad times of the stock market…. And some downright UGLY times.

Sometimes you have to go through a little ugly to end up prettier on the other side… Growing up on five acres in rural Chicago, my dad taught me and my three siblings that horse manure made the crops grow. Sometimes you just have to dig deep, shovel the sh##, and be patient and the garden would flourish. Same can be applied to investments. Even though last August the market stunk like manure; the DJIA was around 15,400 but if you dug deep and did not abandon your crops, a year later The DJIA(8/29/16) closed at 18,668. History has shown that some of the ugliest sectors, the year following can be the best sector. Will this be true for oil investments?

Patience paid off for my clients this year and patience also paid off for the little eight year old, “buck tooth beaver” . I embrace the hard lessons. God sometimes brings us through the tough times, to build trust. As a CFP® I am thankful my clients have learned to trust me and know that eventually things do turn around…and I am thankful for those mean girls too. They gave me the motivation to work harder, be smarter, but most of all, just like my childhood days shoveling manure in the barn, they dished me the crap… so I could blossom. I learned the hard lesson that with the right amount of “crap”… eventually everything would be smelling like roses.

…Romans 8:28 “And we know God works all things for good for those who love him.”… EVEN The Bad stuff!

So what is your ugly story? How did your “bad” turn to good? Where did patience finally pay off?

You can follow my blog at http://www.thewhisperwithin.live


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Misery To Ministry… Just Another Sleepless Night.

I call it the gift. The gift is my unadulterated skill to fall asleep anywhere, anytime…within minutes. I embrace my talent without any shame. I could be on a plane and before the pilot can announce, “Prepare for take off, ” I am already sound asleep, mouth wide open like a big mouth bass, letting the drool dribble down my chin like a hook is stuck in the back of my throat.  This was my gift… until unexpected  about a year and half ago, the Grinch appeared and robbed me. And just like a wide-eyed  Who from Whoville, I was left with an empty stocking hanging on the fireplace mantel with only the Grinch’s stench left behind.  No, I take that back, he filled my stocking  with an expected present… insomnia. insomnia-math-skills Continue reading


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A few years ago, I had a day as surreal as a Stanley Kubrick film. As I dug in my purse for change to pay for my Heath bar, a stranger behind me laid a dollar on the counter, purchased my candy bar, and told me to “Pay it forward”.  I turned to him, dumbfound and quipped, “Thanks.”  I walked away, savoring the sweet taste of chocolate, and shook my head in disbelief.

Later that afternoon, I drove down Schaumburg road, and made my way into the snow-covered parking lot of a laundry mat. I pulled my laundry baskets out of my trunk as the bitter wind punched my cheeks. Why did my water pipes break this week? Why did my life have to be this hard?

Within minutes the washing machines were jammed with my dirty clothes, but it was my emotions that were burst and soiled. In the next thirty minutes, I watched my clothes being tossed against the glass round window, flopping around without any clear direction, mirroring my haphazard day. Just then a wind gust blew the door open and a lady dressed in red flannel PJs bottoms and a black wool coat, walked in. Within seconds she was crying with despair,

“Thunder and Lightning ran out of gas and are stranded.”

“Who are Thunder and Lightning?”

Between broken sobs she continued,” They are my twin girls.”

“Really? Thunder and Lightning?  Where do they go to school?”

“Schaumburg High School. They are Sophomores. They are track stars.”

Lines on my forehead formed like an EKG read-out,” Oh, are they? I have a sophomore girl at Schaumburg, too. Her name is Tarah.”

“You do? Maybe my girls know her.  They are on the track team and are wicked fast… but they need help. Do you have any money for gas?” She pleaded, “I am a single mom. Please can you help me?’

Her eyes melted my soul like whip cream on hot chocolate. I reached in my wallet and took out a ten-dollar bill. “I am a single mom, too. This is for your girls.”

She hugged me like a momma who just found her lost child at Disney World,” Thank you. Thank you.”

I watched her walk out of the frosted glass door and disappear into the blizzard. I dialed Tarah on my cell.

“Tarah do you know any girls called Thunder and Lightning at your school?”

“Yeah, mom. They are track stars, why?

“Never mind… I’ll see you in a bit.”

Pressing the end button on my cell phone, I looked up at the ceiling and laughed as I thought of the gentleman who said, “pay it forward.”  I felt an unnerving stillness come rush over me like a gentle brook streaming over a rock.

As I left the laundry mat, the snow continued to fall making the roads slick. I stopped at a stoplight right by Schaumburg High School just as a car skidded into me tapping my bumper. As I walked to rear of my Murano, I saw a nervous chubby cheeked face looking down at the dent and then his hazel eyes quickly darted to meet mine. With his corners of his mouth turned down he uttered, “I, I am so sorry,” As he tugged at grey knitted cap, he lowered his head and closed his lips like a trap. Looking up at the rosy cheeks I asked, “Are you hurt? Are you ok?”

In confusion, he replied, “Yes. I am fine.”  Looking down at the silver dented bumper and then up at the boy, “Well, it’s only a dent. No one was hurt. Forget about it. Just be careful.”

His hand brushed to push his mocha colored bangs to the side and added,” Are you serious?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Thanks. I just got my license and my dad would kill me.’

I shuffled through the snow-covered street and made my way back into my SUV right before the light turned green. As I sat for a moment, I realized that I was given the gift to” pay it forward.” not once but twice.  I released my right foot from the brake pedal and pressed the gas pedal down. As I drove into the intersection, I looked up at the sky and smirked knowing that angels were probably smirking too.

 

 

 

 


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I am an unapologetic hugger .  One Sunday  when ” sharing the peace”, instead of stretching my hand out , I looked into the soft, gentle blue eyes of the stranger,  leaned in and gave the petite frame an embracing hug. After the church service the lady said to me, ” What a lucky coincidence to sit next to you today. I just lost my husband and I really needed a hug.” Looking straight into the white of her eyes with conviction added, “There are no coincidences. This I know to be true.”

That happened, almost a year ago. It was my first Sunday  in Westlake Village, CA after moving from Chicago.  A year later, Hilda is not only attends the small group that I lead but has become a good friend. God does have the big and small details of our life. This I know to be true.

 

hug


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Watching for Road Construction…

If the road you are on is filled with potholes, it is God’s way of saying the path is ” under construction”. Do not remove the orange cones & road blocks. God will direct you to a smoother path. You just have to be ready to take His detour.” – Lisa Schomer

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The Whisper Within

What is the whisper within?

Some say we all have that little nagging voice that tells us right from wrong. It is the gut feeling you have deep inside your soul that something just isn’t right. Some call it a sixth sense or is it a sick sense? It is your conscience? Do you believe we all are born with a good and righteous morality? Or ethics? Are you capable of listening to your heart? To your soul? Do you believe in dreams? Or in signs?

So what is the whisper within?

I believe it something different. Something extraordinary.

Something that cannot be simply explained through a Google search or Wikipedia entry but through a life being led.

At this stage of my life, after journaling a decade of “strange coincidences”, I feel compelled to open the tattered, beat-up, spilled on, read and reread pages of my journals and share the recollections of “the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I Believe GOD powers strange coincidences and the journey called life. This will be a weekly blog of  stories that inspire hope, love, forgiveness, and anticipation of the joy that lies ahead.

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