The Whisper Within

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


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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.”

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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!santa barbara

 

 

 

 

 


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A year ago, as I was about to move from Chicago to LA a friend said, “ Pollyanna, you are too kind . You will be eaten alive. No one in Los Angeles is nice.”

Well a few Sundays ago, my friend was proven wrong. I was sitting at The Malibu Farmer’s Market enjoying a Greek salad, like my grandma Genevieve used to make, when an unkempt man approached me. He sat down at my table and said, “That looks good. I am starving. Do you have any money so I could buy one?”

Before I could answer, a gentleman approached the table and said, “If you’re hungry, I would be willing to share my sandwich.” The homeless man, got up and walked away.

I asked the kind stranger, “You want to join me?”

For the next two hours Robert and I shared stories like old friends. He told me a miraculous story about a life- threating car accident when his car was hit by a twenty -five foot truck and spun like a carnival ride gone crazy. He remembers not much more until he was surrounded by dozen or so white coats. The head of trauma said, “What God do you pray to? Because he or she really loves you. Protection shields are covering you that we’ve never seen before. It is a miracle you are alive.”

My open-mouth response was, “Wow.”

Robert continued to tell me that the over the next couple of months, his bruises never had a chance to heal since that was only the first of three car accidents!

We continued to share stories and then he asked me, “Do you know what Schomer means?”

“Shoemaker.”

“Yes, but it also means to guard, watch, or preserve The way you embraced that stranger you have spiritual kindness about you.”

I blushed with embarrassment, “I did nothing~ you were the one intervening.”

We laughed as kindred spirits until it was time for him to head back home. As Robert stood up from the table he said, “Lisa, I want to tell you one more thing. I wasn’t planning to come here today but something nudged me, last minute, to turn into the farmer’s market.

I said, “We were supposed to meet. That is how God works.”

Robert walked away and I thought, here is a man who has suffered so much but he is sympathetic to the homeless, shares his gentle spirit without restraint, and lifted up a stranger. Robert was a gift that afternoon, like an angel.

Hope is right front of you. You have to be willing to open your heart or invite it sit at your table.

Hebrews 13:2 “Don’t forget to be kind to strangers, for some who have done this, have entertained angels.’

This Midwestern Pollyanna knows that I am home. I have become me. I have arrived in the city of Angels.


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Grandpa visiting Jake at Purdue university

Today I came across this picture of my dad  visiting my son,  Jake Schomer, during his freshman year at Purdue University. The picture was about two years ago. So many feelings come over me looking at this photo. My dad, a chemistry major, looks so proud that finally one of his eleven grandchildren was pursuing something science-related since none of  his four children embarked on any career in science. I also see a man who is not only  the smartest man I know, but the most humble.  My dad has the strongest German work ethic. In his career and life, he works with integrity, drive, and gratitude. Looking at this photo, I know those are values he passed on to me and my three siblings but seeing him standing by my son, I know it principles he has instilled in his grandchildren as well. This was evident to me this summer.

As my son completed his second year of Industrial Engineering at Purdue like many college students he was in pursuit of an job let alone a possible internship. After emailing several resumes and contacting several employers, He landed an interview for an internship for an industrial engineer position. After the interview, He called me to say that he thought it went well and that they would let him know next week. By Tuesday, He called and talked with the lead engineer.  The engineer said that, ” We decided to hire a college graduate for a full-time position but  you have a good future ahead of you,” Jake was obviously disappointed but a few days later decided to send an email to the lead engineer. In the email he wrote something to the effect of, ” Thanks for the opportunity. I enjoyed meeting with you. If any position opens up, even part-time, could you please let me know?”   What happened next?  About an hour later, the gentleman emailed him back and said, ” I’ve given it some thought. We could use you. Call me Monday.”

Persistence paid off. Just by simply saying thank you, my son received a paid internship, gained money in his bank account, learned valuable skills in his field,but importantly learned the biggest lesson of humility and to be appreciative of all opportunities. I know this value- set was passed down from my father, who at 83 is still the hardest working man I know. Persistence paid off for my dad, too, he finally has a future heir pursing something science related. In the end, it is me who is grateful. Thanks, dad!

Be Persistent . Be Humble. Be Thankful.

You can follow my blog You can follow my blog at https://thewhisperwithin.live/

 


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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.

 

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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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