I feel many things.

First of all, gratitude. I am so grateful for God’s guidance and God’s provision. I should never have made it safe thus far, and I did, through none of my own doing. Six months of unemployment has been emotionally harrowing and sometimes terrifying. That said, it has been a time that has drawn me closer to God. I have felt His presence in a dramatic and personal way. It has been a time of self discovery. God provided me this time to travel, reflect, and write in a way I have never experienced before. I know more about myself, more about how to live my life, than I could have dreamed. I feel my faith has been rewarded, and I am grateful.

I feel awe. There really is a God. There really is a plan, NOT my plan. I could have NEVER dreamed the course of the last year. I am in awe.

I feel joy. I am returning to my family and friends, and my heart home. I am excited about being among them again, and about the challenges of the new job. You can’t be in this business and not be up for extreme challenges. I am ready.

I feel sad. I have made many friends in Austin that I will miss. I hope to stay in touch. And I love Austin. I have had a really good time. Living here has been a vacation in itself. A three year vacation. Again, I am grateful. I will return on a regular basis. I have to have my hair done here. No doubt about it!

So we press on toward a new future with joy and anticipation.

It isn’t really the end of the story, though. It is just the end of this chapter. I can’t wait to see what happens next. Once again I live in anticipation of the next bend in the road.

Cape Fear River

I have never been to this part of North Carolina, but I have been acutely aware of it for most of the last 30 years. My first serious boyfriend, from way back in college, came here to live immediately after we broke up. No, I didn’t come here to see him, though I would have liked that.  I came to see my daughter. She is working in a wilderness camp program for juveniles nearby. I came to spend some excellent time with her, but, it is strange how these personal connections thread through your life, and then float to the surface years later. I feel like I know this place. I have been to Savannah, Georgia, and Charleston, South Carolina. It shares that unique blend of history, southern flavor, and the Atlantic sea shore vibe that is so appealing.

I have split my time between Wrightsville Beach and the historic downtown water front. Both adventures were equal pleasure.

At Johnny Mercer Pier

Wrightsville Beach is one of a series of beaches that stretch along the southern tip of the state that also includes Carolina Beach, Kure Beach, Oak Island, Carswell Beach, Holden Beach, Ocean Isle Beach, and Sunset Beach. Keep heading south and you run into South Carolina’s famous Myrtle Beach. The beaches are lush and clean and were really invigorating in the cold chill of February. It was great to watch the surfers brave the waves in their wet suits. The days were sunny, so lots of locals were out with their pets and sweatshirts. It was lovely, especially shared with my daughter and my hometown friend, Betty. Betty moved here this year after marrying her long time friend.

Betty and Lydia on Wrightsville Beach

I am partial to historic downtowns and Wilmington has one of the largest at 300 city blocks, many with cobblestone streets. It was named a top twelve Distinctive Destination in 2008. A mile long boardwalk stretches along the riverfront. Rehabilitated buildings and warehouses, dating back to the 1700s, now house businesses, shops, restaurants, and movie studios. There is a booming film industry here. Think Nicholas Sparks and One Tree Hill. Maybe you remember the movie, “Cape Fear?” It was a 1991 Martin Scorsese thriller starring Robert DeNiro and Juliette Lewis. Very scary. The young girl trapped on a boat with a desperate killer. I remember it well.

The atmosphere is romantic and relaxing. The land rises from the river to a 50 foot ridge that overlooks the river. Centuries old Greek Revival and Colonial style homes perch above the river. I am partial to that style home.

This leads me to another reason I’ve always wanted to visit Wilmington.

The Greek Revival home my former husband and I built in Magnolia, Texas was designed by Wilmington architect William Poole. He called the design Saratoga Springs. It was a very special home, partly because it was my children’s childhood home, partly because it was nearly one of a kind. I’ve not seen another anywhere except in a Chico clothing catalogue photo shoot. But mostly, it was, and is, quite simply, a thing of beauty. I called it my cool drink of water. I had always thought if I made it to Wilmington I wanted to see this same house in its natural environment, North Carolina!

As fate would have it, the William Poole Architect home office is located two blocks from where I sit right now. It was closed this weekend, but bright and early this morning I found my way to Poole’s doorstep. The office was locked, but by chance a delivery truck arrived and someone came to the door. They even let me in! I told the young woman there my story and she told me that one Saratoga Springs had been built in Wilmington. She gave me directions to locate it. Then she suggested I tell Mr. Poole my story. He was walking in the door. So I did. I had the chance to thank this nationally known architect for my beautiful home. In return he gave me an autographed rendering of the Saratoga Springs, which I shall frame immediately. I didn’t break down, but I tell you, I was fighting back tears. I still don’t know why this house affects me so.

Well, my friend Betty and I spent a great deal of time driving around in the pouring rain to find this house. We never did, but we had fun trying. Betty has taken on the goal of finding it before I return to Wilmington to see my girl. Betty knows this house. She knew me first when I lived there. It’s really okay that we didn’t find the house. I get to take it home with me, and I got to share my story with the architect. It was obvious that he appreciated what his life work meant to a family in far away Texas.

You never know whose lives you touch. Then, every once in awhile, you do.

This devotional compared God’s will for our lives to a Global Positioning System, or GPS. We are on a designated route, then because of decisions we make, or sometimes circumstances out of our control, we make a detour. If you have driven with a GPS you know that it begins to squawk, asking you to make a U turn at the soonest opportunity and return to the designated route. You either have to ignore it or turn it off to make peace with your new direction.

It reminds me of the time my sister Phoebe and I spent in Salt Lake City during my cross country trip. The GPS selected route out of Salt Lake City was by freeway, as expected. This particular freeway was completely closed in both directions. There was no clear detour marked. We were forced to deviate, leaning on our own understanding. The GPS went crazy. So did we. We were then driving on total instinct and personal sense of direction. Phoebe’s was different from mine, but by gosh, I was at the wheel. We followed a few rabbit trails, made a few U turns, but eventually came out on an interstate, though not the one we were supposed to be on originally. That interstate led us, quite miraculously, back to the designated route, PAST the portion of the freeway that was closed to us. We were on our way and back in the saddle, a little relieved to not be completely lost.

As Jill Carattini, writer of the devotional put it, the GPS “doesn’t force you to start over or announce that you can no longer make it to your final destination because you have ruined the route. In fact, it doesn’t even make you feel guilty. The end still in mind, it simply adjusts the plan from that point onward, as if the ‘wrong’ turn was a part of the journey all along. The destination has not changed. Plan A may have switched to Plan B, but the outcome will be the same.”

This gives me comfort. I’ve made a few turns and detours, but God is good. My destination is unchanged. With God’s blessing, we adjust from this point onward, the wrong turns part of the journey. My Dad put it beautifully as well. He told me he believes the detours and trials along the way shape and sharpen some aspects of our personalities that need tuning, preparation for God’s Plan A.

God as a GPS? I’d rather think of Him as a UPS…Universal Positioning System.

To read “Running with Plan B,” follow this link.

http://ls.egen.net/MessageView.aspx?sid=167794454&cid=167773165&textonly=0

I appear to be.

Many years ago, during a difficult time in my marriage, I took a train trip from Houston to Atlanta and back. I wanted to think, to write, and to have some fun. I emerged from that trip with a written life mission statement. This was popular in the 90’s, to have a personal mission statement. I don’t remember the exact wording, but I remember the essence. It is true, if you write something down and commit to it, then it becomes of part of who you are.

The essence of my mission statement was that I would not commit my time or my money to anything that did not make a difference in this world. From that moment on I have been deeply involved in community activism and community development on a number of different levels. I have been involved in education, non-profit, and in government. In the end, God led me to a career as a City Administrator. I know I have made a difference, small and large, for a number of communities, and sometimes a difference for people.

My daughter recently wrote in her blog that we have to identify OUR will in order to distinguish GOD’S will. Wow. That sent me down a rabbit hole. I have been pondering it for days.

Here is the exercise I went through. I made a list. The first thing that spilled out of my head was that I wanted to fall in love again and marry again. Second, I wanted to travel. Then I wanted to earn a living as a writer, and live the writer’s life, i.e. I could travel. Then I said I wanted to be involved in initiatives that made a difference in the lives of people and communities.

When I studied the list I decided to prioritize. It occurred to me that though love and marriage came out first, I knew that, bad as I may want this, and as alone as I feel at times, it was not really first on my list. By that I mean that I would not chose love and marriage over the rest of my desires…i.e. I would not chose love and marriage if it meant NOT being a writer, NOT being able to travel, and NOT being involved in initiatives that make a difference. I apparently want love and marriage while I do those things. That is what gave me the WILL to walk out of my marriage. I felt, at that time, that I had to choose. There were other, very serious issues, but another person might have responded differently. It was my WILL that walked me out the door. It most certainly explains why I am alone today.

So I have to ask myself where is God’s will in my life? Where has he blessed me in the “desires of my heart?”

Travel. I have traveled to many places and there are many more places I want to go. Is this God’s blessing? I have to confess that my early travels were clearly gifts. I could not have dreamed the opportunities I had to travel with Shell Oil Company in my 20’s. They sent me to Canada, South America and across the United States. While I was married I wrung a few trips out of my husband. He was an unwilling participant for the most part, but we did go to several states, including Alaska, and to Mexico. He allowed me a trip to Italy with my sister. Since the divorce I have taken travel upon myself. I couldn’t afford to travel, but I did it anyway. The grandest of the travel were trips to South America with my mother, Costa Rica with my children, and my cross country tour alone. There is the idea in my head that you only live once and you won’t miss the money a year from now.

Wrong.

I have to confess. Those three trips haunt me financially today as I sit here without a job. Were there blessings? Yes, absolutely. Is the final chapter written? No, but sitting here today, I see the foolishness, the selfishness, and the reckless nature of my desire. Right this minute I think TRAVEL is of my will, not God’s. At least not in the forms I have willed it.

Writing. I have pursued a writing career for at least 20 years. I have done everything I know to do. I have even written with the idea of my commitment to “making a difference.” I had a little fun with it, but it has cost me more money than I have earned. I have “persevered in faith,” thinking if I keep trying I will be given the desire of my heart. I was using my “gift.” However, I must confess, I have not experienced, with my writing, the blessing I had envisioned. My will?

Making a difference in the community. I have been confused at times. My endeavors have been all over the place. Win some. Lose some. Try this, try that. But, in this I have clearly been blessed, blessed with wonderful experiences, and blessed to have been part of changes that will outlive me. I have lived that commitment I made on that train. I have lived the commitment made the day I took my first community related job, a job I knew was a calling. I cannot deny God’s hand in this part of my life. I cannot deny God’s will.

I am more confused about the other areas of my life.

 So was I, am I, living in God’s will? I know it was not God’s will for my marriage to end, or for me to be sitting here unemployed, alone, but here I am.

In God’s will or no, I know He is with me. Maybe, just maybe, I can get my own will out of the way, once and for all.

I am a funny kind of Christian. I pretty much see God in every little thing that happens. Really, it is a major precept in my faith. There is a lot of debate in intellectual circles about the role God plays in daily events in a single life.  My logic says not, but my EXPERIENCE says otherwise. So I live in expectation of drama, the result of God’s hand in everything. Sometimes I am disappointed. I expect, I believe, and then it doesn’t happen.

You can trust me when I say that this little quirk of mine has led me down some interesting rabbit trails and cost me emotionally and financially.

Other times God’s hand is clear and presents in dramatic ways. I’ve experienced enough of the drama to know God will show up, even when I don’t get to see it with my human eyes.

All that aside, the last several months are beyond the pale. God showing up in this strange, scary time.

I had a job interview this past week. It is for a job that I would like very much to have. It takes me back to my home base, it is financially logical, and I know and like the city itself, based on previous interactions. The pressure of the desire to win this one, the pressure of too much negative information assailing me from all directions, the exhaustion from interviewing and interviewing, declining and being declined, was building. Over arching all of that was the growing realization of just how hard it might be to get a job in this economy. By the time I made my hotel room I was overwhelmed. I felt like I would go into the interview the next morning unable to speak and unable to remember why I would make a great City Manager.

I had to lie on the floor and call out to God.

When I made it to bed I suddenly had such a flow of ideas and thoughts I had to write them all down. I filled page after page of a small notebook I carry, and decided that I would take that notebook into the interview and make sure I covered it all. Then there was such peace. I slept like a baby.

The next day I had what was easily, from my perspective, the best interview of my career. It was as good as it gets for me, win or lose. There is no doubt I was carried on God’s grace. I don’t know the outcome on that job yet, but my personal outcome was profound.

I later walked through my rent house in preparation for possibly moving back. It is evident I will have to spend some money to return it to its pre-rental condition. Over the next three days I became overwhelmed by the cost of the repairs and replacements, transitioning, two mortgages, and my usual monthly obligations, just as I am running out of money. I also realized I would have to spend money on that house whether or not I am moving back. Again, it was too much. I panicked.

I had to lie on the floor and call out to God.

That was this morning.

Today I decided to be productive so I did my taxes. I thought I would at least see what I could count on from a possible return.  I had sold my sister’s house at a loss and expended considerable funds in the process, but I just wasn’t sure what that would really net.

Well, it netted a refund FOUR TIMES my greatest expectation and hope.

It netted provision for months to come if I should happen NOT to get this job.

If I do get this job, it netted the funds I need to transition and fix my beautiful little cottage home. That miraculous, but very stressful and expensive overnight sale of my sister’s house two months ago turns out to be a far greater miracle than I first realized. Funny, God realized. Don’t try to tell me He isn’t involved in the minutia of daily life.

It is supernatural.

By home I mean Montgomery County in east Texas, just north of Houston. This is where I lived for over 10 years, 28 years in the area. This is where I raised my children. This is where I had the best years of my life.

I had three homes in Montgomery County. There was the one we built when we moved there. This was a beautiful large Greek revival on three acres with over 200 feet of lake front. This was the dream home. The fantasy house. I expected to live there for the rest of my life. My daughter used to say she wanted this house when we died. It was that good. That is the home I walked away from when I left my marriage. A chapter closed.

My second home was just a couple of miles down the road. I found a less expensive, comfortable house, one I thought would continue to make my children feel at home, close to their Dad, and the least disruptive of their then high school schedules. It was a nice house, I am grateful for this place, for that transition, but it was never home. My youngest sister took over that house for the next six years, but we had to sell it this past December.

In the meantime I went to work for the City of Montgomery and I built a home there. It is a cozy little Victorian reproduction. It was a re-creation, in many ways, of my childhood home in Little Rock, Arkansas. It is a pretty little cottage with my signature stamped all over. It was, and is, the home most representative of my heart. When I left Montgomery for Austin I tried to sell, but wasn’t successful. So I still have that little house in historic Montgomery, walking distance from a beautiful park and main street shops and restaurants. It is leased right now, but I walked through it this weekend, and loved it all over again.

Cottage Home

My son, my mother, grandmother, sisters live in the Houston area. My children’s father is close by. Is this home?

Montgomery and Montgomery County welcomed me. I am known there, one of their own. I was able to see former co-workers and friends. They came out of the woodwork, with phone calls and meals, and a night on the town. I had lunch with my son. I had a blast. I even got a speeding ticket. That is so Montgomery County.

As God closed the door on Austin, amazingly the doors back in Montgomery County have begun to open. I was in town for a job interview. I do not know yet if I will be offered this job, but it is a promising opportunity; the stirring of desire.

In the words of Bon Jovi:

“Who says you can’t go home
There’s only one place they call me one of their own
Just a hometown boy, born a rolling stone, who says you can’t go home
Who says you can’t go back, been all around the world and as a matter of fact
There’s only one place left I want to go, who says you can’t go home.”

I have wanted to write about the job search but haven’t. There is something scary about putting it down on paper, and possible repercussions. But, it deserves attention. It is brutal. It is fraught with hope and despair, fear and disappointment, hard work and exhaustion. A metaphor for life I suppose. You begin to think you won’t make it and your life truly might just derail. You get up, and then you get slapped back down.

Suddenly you find your age is a factor, even if you don’t feel or look your age. It is one of life’s cruel twists that just when you feel the most confident, and have the experience and fortitude to do the best work of your life, the world considers you less exciting than someone just out of braces. And, in this economy, you find you are competing against some of the best, a small fish in a big pond. You begin to doubt.

It is a continuous effort to stay positive, remembering your qualifications and abilities, and relying on an undying faith that God is in control, with no plans to harm you, but to prosper you. I have mostly stayed positive because I have lived long enough to experience God’s grace and protection. I believe because I know. It is an effort to hold on to that belief through the fire. I also know I have no room to complain. I have opportunities and options, and have only been in the fight for a few months. Others have endured months and months, even years, of discouragement.

So why would I turn down a perfectly good job offer? It is even a bigger question when it was probably my last chance to stay in Austin, a place I have grown to love, and a job that offered a good solid retirement down the road. Nearly everyone encouraged me to take it, with reasons ranging from my age, my future retirement, and the condition of the economy. They aren’t wrong.

I started this process with a focus to stay in Austin. By the end of my trip across the United States I felt that it was all about home. In that moment, home was about Austin. One step at a time, however, God has closed every door that would allow me to stay in this very fair city. He showed me His provision over and over. The first job I was offered, a job I would have loved, did not include His provision, at least not in a way I have come to expect. All of the pieces of the puzzle were not in place. My cumulative life experience has not led me to make decisions in fear or desperation. To accept this job would have meant spending the rest of my working years barely recovering from this unfortunate event in my life.

I decided to wait for the provision, to wait for the opportunity that was positive and blessed, and a move forward filled with promise and excitement. I am now excited about what lies ahead and where it will lead.

I decided to step out in faith and wait on the Lord.

That lovely pendant has taken on deeper meaning. In 2009,for the first time in over 30 years, I have unexpectedly experienced all four seasons in a rather extreme manner.

The year started with the usual idealic Texas spring. There is no better time to be in Texas than in the spring with its perfect temperature and large opportunities for outdoor activity. This is especially true in Austin. It was followed by the most extreme summer in my thirty years there. Temperatures stayed above 100 degrees for sixty straight days, with no rain. I mean no rain. The beautiful hill country lakes began to shrink to mud pits. It was during this time that my job began to dry up as well.

This was followed by my autumn road trip. I grew up in Arkansas so I once experienced, and summarily took for granted, the fall color changes. However, I have never witnessed the explosion of color that followed me across the United States this October. I will never forget the physical and emotional experience of this incredible natural wonder as presented in multiple forms across a variety of landscapes. This gift from God, like life, is literally here one day, gone the next. If you should be so lucky as to experience it, you have to enjoy it while you can. In Michigan, the color glowed on Sunday, dulled on Monday, and was gone to brown by Tuesday. I had to move on to find the color I sought.

I returned to Texas by November, just in time to experience an unusually cold and wet start to winter. It was not pleasant, but at least lent a little credibility to the holiday season. It made my tenure at the Christmas tree lot somewhat authentic. We actually got to wear sweaters and coats.

Then we heard of the sudden and tragic loss of my nephew Chris in an automobile accident on New Year’s Day. This is the son of my older sister, Kaye, the sister I spent every day of my life with until she married at eighteen. Our only thought was to get to her and her family in Kentucky as soon as possible. Chris was only twenty eight years old. Like the fall colors, he came in a burst of color and glory, and departed from us before we were ready. Chris was laid to rest on a beautiful rolling hill in Kentucky bluegrass country, just before the skies let loose with an icy white winter blast.

We are now snowbound in Kentucky after two days of continuous snow fall. It is gloriously beautiful, especially to my Texas dry eyes.

My sister’s home is alive with the sounds of life even in the shadow of death. Chris’s son is six years old. Her eldest daughter, Cynthia, has two sons, age six and two. Her second daughter, Catherine, has two daughters, ages four and ten months. They are cheering us with the pitter patter of feet running through the house, their peals of laughter, and tears of frustration. We are blessed to be given this proof of life.

Vicky and Hannah

Faith and hope are being restored afresh by watching these children play in the snow. There is the scary ride down the hill, screaming and laughing all the way. There is the occasional bump in the road, with everyone tossed unceremoniously out onto the ground. There are tears.

But, there is nothing as delightful and inspiring as a two year old toting his own sled back up that hill. No effort is too great to insure that he gets another run at the hill. He wanted to do it for himself. 

No effort is too great to make another run at the great adventure. God shows us every day in the simple circle of life, in the change of seasons, in the laughter of the children.

So my heart is with them, and my family will gather with them in Kentucky this week.

It has caused me to think a great deal about God’s promise of provision. I believe God will provide for Chris’s family because I have lived long enough to witness this in other lives and other families. I believe God will provide for me because He already has, not just in the past, but in the past three months. Not just in the past three months, but in the past two days. And today.

I actually, for once, mean this literally. I have been debating a particular decision. Threaded through my concern was this amazing provision. As I said before, all along this journey I have had what I needed when I needed it for no good reason, and in ways I could never have contemplated. As I have said it feels like fishes and loaves and includes everything from selling a rent house in 24 hours, to working at the Christmas tree lot.

Lately I have wondered if I was a little crazy. And I am; I am crazy like a Southern Baptist preacher’s daughter. I’ve been crazy enough to believe that if I took certain risks that things would work out. I can tell you that over the years I have felt the crushing devastation when situations have NOT worked out even though I believed. I am not naïve. But I hold onto this promise like a baby holds onto its blankie—for dear life. I hold onto belief, even in moments of disbelief, because of what I have experienced in my life.

Here’s the crazy. I, fool that I am, asked for a sign. The minute I did this foolish, crazy thing, people, friends, relatives, and preacher’s came out of the wood work affirming me, supporting me, praying for me, and telling me, Vicky, you can be a little crazy, for just a little while longer. And if I was, maybe, just maybe, God would show me the next step in the great adventure.

Here’s even crazier. Yesterday my daughter and I stopped and picked up the mail. I told her I needed to pick it up in case there was a check in it, like maybe I won the lottery. Ha! Ha! I didn’t open that mail until just now, Sunday night.

Yes, there was a check in the mail, a check related to the sale of my rent house. A check not anticipated; a check out of nowhere; a check just right for making a mortgage payment.

Crazy ain’t it?

God’s provision. You gotta believe.