Coming to LA
As soon as I completed my writing in the blog last night, I received a horrible phone call from Glenn. I asked him how my son was doing and asked him if I needed to get him a hotel room since he had given his room and bed to a visitor that showed up the night before. The man told me, “No he’s fine on the couch.” Then he immediately shifted the conversation to attack me. He said that I had provided horrible work on the film festival I had spent the last several weeks creating logos, images and drafting a sponsorship deck for the team to use. “You threw this together and didn’t even read it before you sent it,” he accused. I was confused. I spent the whole day when I flew back from my last trip sitting with this man and his friend Lloyd from New York, going page by page to write notes of all changes they requested. There wasn’t a single item that I had missed in editing the draft before sending it back over to them for another review.
“What did I do wrong in the slide deck?” I asked. “You used the wrong font for Sam’s name and did you even look at the back page?” I sat in silence for several moments. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with the back page?” My number! My phone number! How could you get my phone number wrong?” I thought it was so odd the way he was acting – yelling like a child having a tempter tantrum. “That’s it? You’re mad there was a typo on your phone number? That’s a 2 second fix,” I responded. “That’s not the point! Do you really not know me? You don’t know my phone number?” From there it went downhill even further very fast. He told me that I am his employee and I need to act like all of his other employees and do as he says since he’s paying me to do a job. He then said that he can pay anyone to do what I do and he’ll find someone that follows directions.
When I got of of the phone with this person, I was in shock. The voice I had spoken to seemed more like a hate filled demon than a man who had just 2 weeks earlier opened up to me about his long term goals and intent to start an organization to help abused women and kids. I spent the next two hours trying to find a hotel room for my son to sleep in. Every single place I tried was sold out with no rooms. Finally, I gave into tears and frustration. My son said he was going to just go back to his house and sleep on the couch. And he was angry with me for fighting with Glenn. He didn’t understand what had transpired. It broke my heart he didn’t believe me that I did nothing to deserve such harsh treatment.
Last night was one of the hardest nights I’ve had in a long time. My stomach hurt so badly I thought I might need to go to the ER. I cried and placed a heating pad over my belly. Then a strange number messaged me a song link that said, “Let go and let God.” And underneath it, he posted a scripture:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
6 in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.[a]“
I went to bed in a puddle of my tears and woke the next morning (only 3 hours later) to a message from my airline that I’d been rerouted to Dominican Republic. And I prayed the entire way to the bus, to the plane and up into the air for the strength to get through this day. And God was faithful.
Tonight he sleeps on that man’s couch hopefully for the last time. But I can’t control what happens next – as the scripture says. I am to let go and let God. I have no idea what God’s doing right now. I have no idea how this is going to work out, where we will live long term, where Josh can get a job to support himself and pay his insurance and food. I have no idea how this will go living at Tamra’s house and I feel a heavy guilt about bringing my son into her home – knowing that she only recently was able to become an empty nester and have her freedom. But in that too, I must shift my focus. My son is a gift. He’s a beautiful gift from God and I’m so grateful he’s in my life. And maybe he will be a beautiful gift for Tamra’s life too. I pray that is the case. I pray that miracles are coming our way and fast. But to believe that God is doing a mighty work and to see its course is a very different thing. God has never done things the way I thought he would do them or expected it all to turn out. He is a Father of many surprises and an author that writes our stories in ways that even the best story-tellers on the planet can’t predict his next move.
If someone would’ve told me 2 months ago that I’d be living with a script writer I met in the galley of an airplane and my son was going to drive 25 hours unexpectedly to California where he too would join us two women in the little condo in Woodland Hills, I’d have told them they’re crazy. But here we are.
I’m like a reporter – living inside of a roller coaster ride of a story with no idea what happens next. I’m living by the seat of my pants and doing my best to stay focused on the faith that God has placed in me when this journey all began. Back in the TIRR hospital, where the nurses called the place “Hotel California” I learned that I’m not in control of the script of my life – that a divine author had been planning a plot my entire life, weaving puzzle pieces together with great purpose. God has given me exactly what I need, exactly when I needed it and there was nothing that happened nor was there any person who played an instrumental role in my life that wasn’t there for good reason. Purple Stones. It was the name of the chapter that shaped my experience more than anything else I’d learned from it all – that God is sovereign and Jesus is the author who writes in the sand and the sand is this body made of dust that he has placed me in for the ride called life.
Purple stones was also symbolic of a promise I received with the purple bible and the purple ring. It seems the promise had an instruction manual. Why haven’t I seen this connection before? The purple bible was like a treasure map that I would need for the journey to my promised land.
Today I wear a turquoise stone on my left hand that mysteriously was in my suitcase when I left Maui on Valentine’s Day. This too seems like a promise of sorts. Perhaps that will be the place I one day get married to my soulmate that God has prepared for me and my son will be there, walking me down the isle and giving my hand away to the one the Lord has placed his love inside of.
Wrapping this up, I heard a voice say as I was turning the light off to my hotel room, “The script writer is about to get her big story.” And somehow I knew that me and my son are tied to this message. I don’t want to speculate further. I always get it wrong when I try to figure out what God is doing.
As a little child, amazed by the workmanship of her Heavenly Father’s design, I will go to sleep tonight in peace knowing that God is doing something big for me and my kids. And tonight I pray this prayer…
Dear Jesus,
Your word says that I shall lean not on my own understanding, but acknowledge you in all my ways and you will make my path straight. I feel like this is telling me to get back into your word. I ask you tonight to gift me the guidance to read the Bible and know what it is you wish for me to study when I get back. I ask you to give me instruction and show me your ways – teach me your ways and differentiate this inner voice inside of me that is of you from all other voices in the world. Erase what I’ve learned or thought or believed that hinders my ability to acknowledge YOUR WAY. Make my path straight and help me to seek you and find you in all things. Lead me to the people you wish for me to walk with and those who will be guides for my son too. Gift us with your blessings, favor and the story that glorifies who you are – our loving Father.
Let tomorrow be a beautiful day of new love, new beginnings and transition in peace. Make Josh feel like he has found his home with me and Tamra; even if it’s only meant to be for a little while in your book you are writing with our lives. Let it be home. Let it be the feeling of home and filled with YOUR love and deep compassion for one another. Thank you Lord.
In Jesus Name,
Amen.
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