Lady Traveler : Feb 7, 2013

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Cottage on the course

Cozy coffee table

You'll learn more about a road by traveling it than by consulting all the maps in the world.

As I gaze out of my office window at the pine trees and empty golf course, I'm content to be indoors surrounded by the warmth of a fireplace, and my hankie. Yep, I'm still recovering from the flu. After three days in bed, I was rejoicing for two days of feeling almost-normal. Then today the rains came, and my nose began dripping again. I know when my body isn't normal because I can sleep for two hours during the day--I'm usually a 20-minute cat-napper. My eyes are a bit foggy but I want to write down a few random thoughts from my cottage on Palmer.

I don't know how your week has been, but mine has been full of ups and downs. The loss of my Daddy reminds me that the grieving process can catch us off guard. One moment I'm smiling as I glance at Daddy's picture of when he was a young boy, then a few hours later I open a UPS package to find the watch that he wore. Through tears, I place it on my left wrist. And so my days go. My birthday was a welcome interlude, one that I almost forgot but my family and friends reminded me of with phone calls, cards, and cupcakes. And then there was the ferocious flu. My bed was a warm, welcome friend for three days.

I'm not complaining. I'm hoping you are relating to the ups and downs of life. Because in the midst of it all, the joy of the Lord is our strength. Our healer. Our comforter. He brings a touch of spring to a rainy, dismal winter's day.

I won't be going to the Golden Hills Garden Club tonight, but I'm planning on some fun-filled days with daughter and granddaughter this week-end. I'm making a point to read more this year. I'm reading several good books now: The Circle Maker, We Remember the Holocaust, and for all you new authors, Michael Hyatt's, PLATFORM, get noticed in a noisy world. So I'm off to a good start.

Here's wishing you smooth sailing and oceans of blessings ... sniffle, sniffle.

Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow.

Psalm 25:4 NLT

www.sharonleaf.com

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Comfort or Challenge? Decisions that direct your journey

I was living a comfortable life in Southern California when the opportunity came for my husband and I to volunteer on a World War II ship to transport Russian Jews from Sochi, Russia, to Haifa, Israel. Rob jumped at the chance to live on a World War II ship for 14 months, but this 48-year-old lady panicked. You see, I couldn't swim, so I had to face my biggest fear--water. Sailing across the Atlantic was my worst nightmare, so I had to make the decision: Comfort, or CONFRONT my fear. Comfort, or step up to the CHALLENGE. After much prayer and inner conflict, I inhaled a deep breath of faith, waved farewell to my safe shore, and dived into a new ocean.

I had gotten my sea legs by day four, when out of nowhere, off the gulf of Mexico, the MS Restoration caught the tail-end of Hurricane Hector. Panicked, I dropped my cleaning bucket and staggered to our cabin and jumped in my bunk. My life jacket fell from the rafter above, so I grabbed it, wrapped it tightly around me, and prayed as I fastened each buckle. If I had been Catholic, this would have been the perfect time to repeat the rosary. Instead, I cried out, "God, help me! Remember, I can't swim!"

As the ocean's surge tossed the ship with a vengeance, my Bible fell off an overhead shelf and landed on my bunk. With trembling hands I thumbed through the pages until I stopped at Isaiah 43. I tried drowning the sound of the waves beating against steel by shouting, "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you." While the Pacific raged, it was God's peace that flooded me, and I knew we would somehow survive Hector.

I had read this scripture before, but it had never given me as much comfort as it did that day at sea. I love how God gives us the right words of encouragement at just the right moment.

Now, back home on dry land, whenever I feel challenged, I recall the sound of the ocean's mighty roar, and I quote Isaiah 43:16, and once again, I am at peace.

A Season for Love...my short love story

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1

For the single, for the lonely, there is hope, and a season.

Here is my seasonal love story:

The year, 1984. Forty-one-years-old. Two failed marriages. The recent loss of my beloved Mother. 1987, life didn't look too promising. After working all day, I'd come home, and after a three-mile run and a cold shower, I'd indulge myself in my latest adventure-filled book. But this night I threw the book across the room. "God, please tell me there's more!" Then the phone rang. It was my friend, Tia, begging me to accompany her to a new singles meeting at a nearby church.

"I don't want to go alone," Tia moaned. After surviving her own divorce, she was tired of dating too many I-like-you-I'll-call-you guys. That's why I'd given up dating months ago. Stop-looking-and-let-God was my new motto, thus the reason for my nightly runs and cold showers. Tia, on the other hand, had been visiting churches with large singles ministries. "You have to go with me," Tia pleaded, so what could I say?

So the next night Tia headed for the front row. I insisted on the seats nearest the back door. I yawned as a young slightly-built blonde announced their upcoming March beach trip, and I glanced at my watch as the mild-mannered speaker closed the meeting. The only intriguing part of the evening was a tall, tanned, blue-eyed man wearing cowboy boots who was giving directions and moving chairs. Stop-looking-and-let-God I reminded myself. It didn't matter anyway. I had no plans of returning.

The following Thursday night I was half way out the front door for my evening run when the phone rang. "Ignore it," I whispered, but something inside said, Answer it.

"I'm Rob and I'm calling to thank you for attending our meeting last Friday night." Within minutes we were talking like we knew each other. Now I was curious.

"Are you the guy in the cowboy boots?" That made my heart skip a beat?

"Guilty," he answered.

My heart began to pound as I dove in. I had nothing to lose. "I was married sixteen years."

"I was married sixteen years too."

"I have a twenty-year-old daughter."

"So do I."

This will cause the conversation to come to a screeching halt. "I also have a thirteen-year-old son," I added.

"Me too."

An hour later he asked, "Will you come to our meeting tomorrow night?"

What could I say?

The next evening I scoped the room, but the cowboy was nowhere in sight. I turned to make my exit, but as my shaky hand pushed the door handle, a voice inside said, Don't leave! I reluctantly found a seat on the back row, and unknowingly, the handsome cowboy sat in front of me. I tapped his shoulder. I had nothing to lose.

"Are you Rob?"

"Yes. Are you Sharon?"

I nodded.

I returned that night to check out the stranger who invaded my life over the telephone. Little did I know that the next season of my life had just begun.

I proposed a year later.

What could he say?

A major moral to this story: Always answer your phone. You never know who is on the other end.

(For more details, read LADY and the SEA, a novel based on a true story--mine. www.sharonleaf.com. Available on Amazon.com and e-books.

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Thursday, February 7, 2013

Cottage on the course