offer

This was the worst week in years at the salon. And seems, all is slow in many salons. Spring Break, taxes, who knows? My back hurt, my hopes were sagging.

The slow week was good for me, though. I get cocky and a bit prideful when my schedule stays jammed for months on end. My assistant told me she noticed I was kinder and more friendly with all my clients. Shame it takes lack for me to be more gracious and grateful. God help me, I am so human.

Good set up for a breakthrough. You know, the old adage that the darkest hour is before dawn?

(Daughter and L)

We were set to visit Land M for her 35th birthday.

Daughter and new beau coming with us.

"I want to be ON the road by 7:00!" I live on schedules.

Schedule interrupted. . . we got an offer on Country Estate. A very good offer, by our neighbor's best friends. This will be the first sale for my daughter in her new real estate career.

And this will take all the financial stress off my back. (Good-bye pain?) We can pay off wedding credit card, the house we live in, medical bills, NO DEBT. It has been a long eleven years without my husband's fat income. He grieves he cannot contribute more.

Because of his hard work, Country Estate looks pristine.

I have to say, I have fallen in love with all my readers. You all are great. Kind, caring, compassionate. Surely your words are prayers circling the throne of Grace for me. You broaden my view, enlarge my vision and warm my heart.

When Country Estate closes, please pop a bottle of bubbly and drink. . . drink to friendship and love, drink to your own goodness. And I will drink to yours.

bare

My heart, my soul, my struggles, my silly stories, my worries, my fears. . . I lay out my bare being on my blog.

I really have been amazed in just being me, up or down, faith-filled or fear-ridden, happy or sad, silly or stoic. . . amazed at the care and support of cyber friends. All of you read and leave these endearing comments.

These are different from my daily in town relationships. No pretense, no judgement, no lectures. Just support, encouragement, funny quips and great tips.

The whole salon was deadly quiet today. Well, I still mangaged to meet my self-required quota, on the low side. But it was not the usual, bustling, up-beat Tuesday.

My back hurt. And my back-up assistant had an emergency root canal. My back hurt even more.

Country Estate has not sold.

I emptied out my business account with my SEP IRA contribution.

I got renter's insurance for my room at the salon to prepare me for hurricane season.

On the up side, my (big!!) skin care business is growing.

I qualified for District Manager.

My tummy and saddle bags are shrinking, thanks to Callanetics.

I am still free of gut-wrenching anger towards my soon-to-be-ex-son-in-law. I marvel at the power of forgiveness.

My daughter read "humiliation" and laughed forever! She had just shared the story with the man she is dating (we love him) and said my version was much funnier. (For those of you who wondered how she would feel about me sharing that online!)

I am too tired to do links. For anyone new, just read the old stuff!

For all my other blogger friends, thanks for commenting and for caring.

Naked we enter this world and naked we leave. I am believing that in baring my soul, I am clothed with His love as expressed through all of you.

Thank you.

humiliation

Sometimes life can be very humiliating. Especially as a parent.

My daughter was two and a half. My sister was visiting from Texas. What else do you do on a Spring Break vacation but go to the beach?

We lived in Orlando at the time. I packed the trunkload of necessities, my daughter, sister and a friend to go to the New Smyrna Beach on Good Friday. As you may know, you actually park your car on the beach. The beach is really more of an expressway, with loungers lined up on the water. Not exactly a refreshing experience, sitting and breathing in exhaust fumes and being bombarded by too loud music from too cheap sound systems on too old cars driven by too young guys with even more too young girls hanging all over them.

Finding a place to park that time of year is like finding a spot to park at the Mall two days before Christmas.

"Ah, there's one!" We wheeled in, unloaded our chairs, sunscreen and water bottles. It was going to be a lovely afternoon. We had just settled in and were beginning to relax from the drive. . .

"Mommy. . . potty. . . Mommy. . ."

No, it couldn't be, I would lose our spot and have to start all over. "Baby, do you just have to pee? You can just wade into the water and sit."

(I know, that is so gross, but I was a young mother, so spare me the lectures!!)

Well, she waded in a tad and sat down. Relieved, I went back to my chair, just a foot away from her.

The next thing, OMG, I could not believe my eyes. How did a tiny child produce a log this huge???? What do you do with a floating turd? What was worse is that as the ocean water came in and then back out, it rolled to shore, then rolled out.

Back and forth it rolled. I stood, hypnotised by the rolling tide, I mean turd.

People were walking by, clearly repulsed at the sight. Next thing I knew, here comes another one! I wanted to find a shovel, not to bury the evidence, but to quickly dig my own grave as I was dying from mortification. But I did not have one, so how DID I get rid of the two huge tootsies?

You know, I don't remember what I did about them. I do know somehow they went away. My baby was real happy. . . My sister and friend laughed for days and weeks and years over the incident.

So as the saying goes, sh_t happens! You just have to roll with it!

unfit

How did it happen? I came back from Europe in November. I had walked all over London and Paris. The sites and smells so intriguing, I just did not eat or drink that much.

I must have lost ten pounds. I felt and looked great.

At that high, or low, I was fitted for a bridesmaid dress for my assistant's wedding. Now, that is a story in itself that my assistant asked me to be an attendant in her wedding. I am fifty. She is twenty-one. She actually asked me to be her matron-of-honor. I later told her she should have another one of her friends, who she had grown very close to, to take that prestigious position in her wedding nuptials.

Today, I went for the fitting. The boned corset of the halter-necked dress shaped my figure into a beautiful hourglass. I felt rather diva-ish with my cleavage and soft flowing skirt. It was all working, with one exception.

I stood looking at my statuesque figure, breathless, because I could not breathe!! What had happened since November? Sure, there were a few weeks I didn't take my daily two mile walk. And, yes, I have had my share of cookies throughout the holidays. How had that blown my figure up so much that my dress did not allow me to take a full breath?

I have three weeks to catch my breath, lose five to ten pounds and return to my former svelte figure. What do I give up? If I was truly honoring Lent, this would not be a problem. Surely a big H is engraved into my forehead. Not for Hattigrace, but for Hypocrite. I do not fast well. I do not give up wine well.

Is my blown up figure a sign of my blown up self indulgence?

I sent my husband to Walmart for veggies, fruit and lowfat protein. Like it is his fault the dress is too tight. As I am unfit for A's dress, am I that unfit for Him?

meditation

I was out on Cheryl's Treehouse and was staggered by this quote. She has posted the story of John Wooden's life. His words have riveted me.

"There is only one kind of a life that truly wins,
and that is the one that places faith in the hands of the Savior.

Until that is done,
we are on an aimless course
that runs in circles and goes nowhere.

Material possessions,
winning scores,
and great reputations
are meaningless in the eyes of the Lord,
because He knows what we really are
and that is all that matters."

- John Wooden

Lord have mercy and help me to stay in Your arms.

answer

Tuesday morning, I poured out my heart. I forgave. I asked forgiveness. I renewed my gratitude. I acknowledged and celebrated His greatness. I received His peace. I rediscovered joy and hope. My heart was at peace.

Wednesday, I went to salon early to touch up my sparkling roots. I saw the Fed-Ex truck in the parking lot. Didn't think anything of it.

Went up to front desk to check my schedule. And there IT was. The insurance check! YES!!!!!!! Sent Tuesday afternoon after I had my talk with Him.

In live, living color, in my hand, was the insurance check. He wanted my heart right. Freed from anger, judgment, vengeance and cynicism.

He got me right, then poured out mercy. I am so in awe of His kindness.

Last night, an offer came back for our house. Today another buyer is coming in. We could have a bidding war for the Country Estate.

What a lesson for me. Surrender. Obedience. Trust. Forgiveness. Simple virtues that I can only access in Him. And look at His bountiful reward.

My 'little skin care business' is growing. I have two consultants and three wholesale buyers. In one week.

Tuesday I said it is well with my soul. I am safe in His arms. All because of His presence to reassure me of His faithfulness.

Today, the tangible answers. I am grateful.

arms

I took a walk today. Had a talk with God. Our reading from Matthew (If you forgive men their transgressions,your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive men,neither will your Father forgive your transgressions. ) made me look at the condition of my heart.

Who did I hold hostage with unforgiveness? My ex-son-in-law (to be), my father, the insurance company and finally(gulp), my daughter for marrying the guy.

As I walked, I surveyed my own life. My newest ex-son-in-law is a tortured soul. He is not a believer, has no access to faith, had a rotten upbringing and a very skewed view of family and relationships. Who knows what I would have turned out to be with his start in life? How could I judge him? How could I hold him hostage to unforgiveness? How Christian was it of me to slander his character? I was able to release him and really pity his frantic, panickeded state.

My father was an atheist, a troubled man who grew up in a violently disfunctional home. I faulted him for his insecurities and fears which shaped his reactions to life. Like I was not guilty of the same? I walked, talked to God and with each step saw I was no better than he.

The insurance world is without vision, lost in protecting their investment, no access to the mercy of God, grasping to gain earthly riches. Each insurance representative I have spoken with is just a part of a system they did not create, trying to bring home their paycheck. They personally are most likely kind, caring people, with no control over the policies of the company they work for. How could I revile them?

My daughter was formed by my failings. She was patterned in the valley of my darkest days and the height of my greatest days. I instilled in her my worst and my best. I embodied many mixed messages. Why would I think she would surface unscathed? Her choices are hers. But whose journey has she followed? As flawed and failing as I am and have been, what were her chances to walk an untroubled life?

So, I was able to forgive all. From the bottom of my heart.

I was left with me. Me alone, before my Father. How many times have I come to Him, whining about my life, stained and toxic with my judgments? How could I see clearly when I only judged others and was blind to my own condition?

If I could climb up in the lap of my Father, have Him wrap His arms around me, rest my head on His chest, I realized all I would be able to say is,"Thank You, thank You, thank You, for all You have given me, for all You have provided me, for fifty years of Your faithful love and provision."

If I even began to say, "I am sorry for. . . . . ," I know He would say, "For what, because I see you through the forgiving fount of the spilt blood of My Son. I do not see your sins. I see you as my beloved daughter, the one who continuously comes to Me, loving Me, seeking Me. . "

I wept for my lack of trust in the One who has always provided for me and loved me. I continued my walk on this beautiful spring day. The Country Estate has not sold. The insurance money has not come in. My husband is not making money. I have deep debt from the wedding and a million bills (and too much shopping). My second business is in the baby stage. Nothing in this realm has changed.

Nothing but my heart. The heart newly attached to my Father. Safe in His loving arms.

It is now well with my soul. Safe and trusting in His loving arms.

lost

I frequently can be seen stomping though my house, rummaging through stacks of stuff, banging dresser drawers open and shut, trying to find some misplaced necessity. Like sox, where do they go? Who would steal my sox? They certainly wouldn't fit my husband and unlike mischievous puppies, I seriously doubt Biscuit makes off with them.

Another disappearing act is spoons. There must be a spoon convention somewhere, because one at a time, they just leave our home!

These losses are an annoying nuisance. A few months ago, we had a heartwrenching loss.

Jen had come to visit with her sister and two friends. Jen is a beautiful girl, kind-hearted, humorous and loving. She has two delightful children, a boy, 8 and a girl , 4. I invited Jen and the others for a girl's weekend, as I wanted to do Jen's hair, and distract her from her painful loss.

Her beloved husband, age 34, had suddenly, unexpectedly had a heart attack and died a few months prior. I knew styling her hair would not fix her broken heart, but it is one thing I have to give. I wanted to express my deep empathy.

We had all gathered on my porch for some refreshments and were chatting away when Jen gasped, clutched her hand, stood and said with her voice shaking, "My diamond, the diamond fell out of my engagement ring. . . oh my God, Jimmy gave it to me. . ."

Forget hugging. What would that do? The four of us began scouring my driveway, the car they had driven here from Alabama, the house, couch, Jen's purse and suitcase, everything. I even got out a flashlight and we crawled on our hands and knees all around the car, especially the back, methodically searching, hoping the flashlight would reveal her lost treasure.

At one point, Leah whispered, "Hattigrace, look, could this be it?", her trembling hand cupping what we wanted to be the missing stone. It was a small glass bead.

I remembered a sermon about tokens and how God often gives something small as a token or promise of the real thing to come. I wish I had proclaimed my thoughts to the other girls, but I thought to myself, "If He could let us find this worthless glass bead, then surely He knows where the diamond is and will lead us to it."

Sounds good, huh? Like I was this great woman of faith. Ha. Not enough to speak it out to encourage the others.

My heart ached for Jen. She was sure God was mad at her, that was why she had suffered so many losses. She called her mother, who began asking for intercession from St. Anthony (thank you sista' Sara!)finder of lost objects. We kept looking.

Three and one-half hours later, we all gave up. Jen had cried herself out. We were exhausted, sweaty and discouraged. Again gathered on the porch, Jen looked at me and asked, "Well, Hattigrace, do you still want to do my hair?" I respected her so much for being willing to let it go and move on. And Leah had talked to her about praying and then giving it up to Him.

We all went into the house to gather our purses. I went out to the porch for something. Jen's sister was behind their car. She suddenly bounced up into the air, and with joy of joys shouted, "I found it!!" I really thought to myself for a millisecond she was cruel to kid with me.

She was not kidding. Where we had scoured for hours, the diamond suddenly was visible. The screams of rapturous happiness and gratitude rang through our neighborhood. I have never had bigger goosebumps in my life.

I finally hugged Jen. I finally cried. And she cried, big happy tears.

The glass bead was the token for the diamond. What is the diamond the token for? First given by Jimmy, now given by God. Jimmy pledged his life and love to his beloved Jen. How much more does God pledge to her?

Right now, I think Jen feels lost. I would too, most likely. But her Savior, Maker, Lord and Lover of her soul waits for her to bring her broken heart to Him . . . in Him, we are never lost. . .

lent

" 'Now, therefore,' says the Lord, 'Turn to Me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning.'

So rend your heart and not your garments; return to the Lord your God,
for He is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and of great kindness. . . " Joel 2:12-13

My walk with You has been a rocky and jagged path. I am easily distracted. I forget to ask Your council. I hurt Your heart with my quick, unkind words. Though I stumble, fall and fail, I know no other refuge than Your love, frightfully and wonderously revealed at the Cross. My life is noisy and demanding. Help me to retreat, be still and know You.