IntrepidWoman's Journey

Just give me a sign . . .

Posted on: April 20, 2011

Have you ever prayed, “Please give me a sign?” Interesting concept when you are trying to figure out what to do with your life and are requesting a little guidance from the Big Guy.

I am one of these people who walk around with the sign flashing in neon over my head and it takes me eons to notice it. I continue to ask for a sign even though I consider myself to be reasonably intelligent.

My Higher Power is very patient though. He starts by tapping me gently on the head, then a little finger flick on my skull. When I still do not recognize the signs, he sighs and hits me over the head with one of those in-the-ditch, flashing-letters billboard-numbers. Ah, right.

The ‘signs’ I like the best are the ones that make no sense or they go against the grain of common sense. Okay, so If that is what I am supposed to do, why is it something that a lot of my friends and family are going to raise eyebrows at?

I remember when I first had entrepreneurial urges and wanted to be my own boss after working for others all my adult life. I had several ideas for a ‘home’ business and started looking for a building to buy. For five years, every summer, I would put my cute little house in Coleman up for sale, search and find a building, put in an offer conditional to my house selling and then, nothing. I think I almost bought half the Pass during those 5 summers. Correction – put offers in on half the Pass. I look back with relief that none of them made it to the finish line. Each time I had prayed, “If this is your will, let my house sell.”

That last summer I did not even put my house on the market first, but started building hunting out of habit. Bingo. I found it. I walked into the foyer and said, “This is it!” Then I told the realtor he had to sell my Coleman house as a condition of the offer to purchase. He did not even write-up a listing. Four hours later he had it sold. Now that is what I call a SIGN.

Right now I am at an interesting crossroads in my life. I made a move after living in the same area for 31 years, coming to a job that I am crazy-wild about. The interview, purging and packing, finding a place to rent, all happened without a hitch. Good signs that I was doing the right thing. The actual job has been wonderful and challenging and a great learning experience. Things were happening that I cannot mention for the first year that were equivalent to a bad day in hell but finally got resolved. Through it all, I still loved the job.  Then when the light at the end of the tunnel looked brighter, finances leaped up and shrieked, “You can’t continue to carry two residences any longer!” My church, my chosen place for entrepreneurial joy, would not sell. It was shown, offers were made, offers fell through, the realtor aged before my eyes and nothing happened.  As a distraction, I started looking for a new place to rent here because I am tired of a basement suite out-of-town after two years. I thought that would cheer me up.

Can you see the finger coming? Every attempt to rent hit the wall.  By now, I am beyond frustration. All signs have been pointing to me moving back to my little church, but I had left the area because jobs were impossible to find. Why, oh why would I go backward instead of forward?

Time to challenge the sign. If I am supposed to move back, I must have a job to go to. I have a place to live there and my elderly mother lives in the area and could use some help from family. Two valid reasons to go back, so . . .

I saw a job advertised and applied for it today. If I end up getting it, that will be the flashing-billboard-sign in the middle, not on the side of the road. If I don’t get it, darned if I know what to do next.

I certainly wont stand too close to the curb though. The chances of another hit-and-run, flashing, neon sign are pretty high right now.

Stay tuned, says Intrepid Woman


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