We’d thrown my salon equipment in a bare corner of the basement.
Jen was in kindergarten, going to school for half days. Rachel was a toddler. On nice days, I’d load her in the stroller to walk the mile to pick Jen up from school.
A friend of a friend asked if I’d perm her hair in exchange for a piece of carpet, large enough for the other half of the half of the unfinished basement. Sure. Date was set. Would have to be in the afternoon, after kindergarten and during Rachel’s nap-time.
I ran upstairs while the perm was processing to check on the girls. I’ll never forget how sweet the scene that greeted me. Jen sat squarely in the middle of the couch, thumb in her mouth twirling her hair, watching Sesame Street. On her lap lay Rachel’s sleeping head. All was right with the world.
Ran downstairs and finished the perm, and walked out with the client while we said our goodbyes, as was and remains my habit to this day. Weird, I know. But that day, parked in the bright sunshine, her new black car had been vandalized. A child had obviously been practicing their writing skills with a rock and had seen every door and quarter panel as their slate to unblank. We circled the crime scene, in shock and dismay. Even located the rock used to commit the offense, tucked securely in the right corner of the rear license-plate crevice.
We lived on a cul-de-sac. Literally a playground for the neighborhood kids to ride their skates, bikes, trikes, and scooters. Which, that bright, sunny day there were plenty. While my mind was wondering which of the neighborhood children had done such a thing, the freshly permed and coiffed had already concluded my girls were the culprits. She insisted I pay her insurance deductible, which was $1,000.00. Claiming it was my responsibility, as her car was parked on my driveway. As she insisted my children were responsible for the damage, I agreed to the deductible but knew neither Rachel or Jen had done it… I’d seen them myself just an hour earlier. The thumb-sucking-hair-twirlling-Sesame-Street-watching-lap-napping pillars of innocence upstairs on the couch.
But what do I know? She accused. I felt terrible for her (not that I ever thought my girls were responsible). She was parked on my property. So I agreed to pay her deductible. Good thing my mom was a loan officer, cuz that’s the only way I was going to be coming up with that kind of scratch (pun intended).
Then the phone-calls started. She decided she didn’t want to put in an insurance claim, that would cause a rise in her premium. She decided to bill me for the entire cost, estimated to be around 5,000 dollars.
Ah, no. That’s not going to happen. I agreed to the deductible. You changed horses in the middle of the stream. There’s no possible way I can come up with enough money to pay that bill, and told her so. I was informed that she was going to contact the Cosmetology Commission and have my license revoked and the South Dakota Housing Administration, through which our mortgage was secured, because there was a stipulation that the money could only be used for buying a residence not a business, and since I permed her hair, that constitutes a business enterprise.
These calls came on a regular, seemingly weekly, basis. I was devastated, terrified, indignant, manipulated, black-mailed and didn’t appreciate being extorted. In fact, as I write this, 30 years after the event. I am struck by the very real possibility that the damage was done elsewhere, (her office was behind the old Prairie Market complex next to the bike path, Rapid Creek, and hangout area for the transient, struggling, and homeless). There is a very real possibility my home was not the scene of the crime, it was where the crime was first seen! Holy Smokes! What a revelation!
Anyway - back to the black-mail extortion story. It was after the call threatening my career and home that I fell apart, and while bewailing the injustice, heard the Spirit of God say, “find out for yourself”.
I called the SD housing office and asked if a salon would violate the mortgage agreement and was assured that no it wouldn’t. Then I called the Cosmetology Commission and asked if doing someone’s hair in my home would be cause for having my license revoked. Again, I was assured that, unless I was advertising a business - then no, my license was not in jeopardy.
Lesson learned! In 10 minutes I had 2 definitive answers that squelched the lies, calmed the fears, and defused the threats.
I suspect she called the same offices and got the same answers - because that’s when the game changed and she decided to take me to small claims court and sue me for the 5,000.
This had gone on for months. And don’t you know I took every opportunity to talk about the wicked, evil, lying, conniving, black-mailing extortionist. I was building my case and growing in bitterness and unforgiveness. I was justified!
Court date came. Feb. 14th, Valentines day, we went before a judge. I read my statement and she, before the court, lied. Bold-faced lied. She claimed I had refused to pay her deductible! She said nothing about her insisting I pay the entire bill!
A week or so later, the court sent their decision. I was found responsible to pay the lady’s deductible.
Oh boy! Wrote that check thinking it’s over. Settled. I could move on! Nope.
The garden of hate, anger, resentment, bitterness, and unforgiveness was in full flower and self-perpetuating.
I was trapped in a very dark place - and locked there by my own self- justification. I couldn’t see the way out, but wanted desperately to find my way back to peace and love.
Around tax day, mid April, 2 months after the dismal day in court, on a Saturday night, I woke up from a dream. It was vivid. Colors and everything. My friend, Myrna, and I walked out of a set of double doors. She was to my right, wearing her bright ‘wind suit’ so popular in the late 80s early 90s. It was the turquoise one.
I was crying, angry, and said, “I can’t believe he left me!”
Myrna siad, “You’re a single mom now. It’s going to be hard but you can do it.”
I thought we were walking out of a courthouse and Mike had divorced me. In my dream, I looked up and there were all of Mike's friends from church, standing in a square, surrounded by flowers. Weird, I thought. People don’t stand in squares. And why are his friends here in this courthouse courtyard?
Then I woke up.
The next Monday, I decided to finally ask God what to do about this crappy, hate-filled, angry cesspool that had once been my heart.
“Ask her to forgive you.”
“WHAT?!?!? You’ve got to be kidding! She’s the one who lied, extorted and black-mailed me! I’m the innocent one! Besides, if I ask her to forgive me - she will take it as an admit of guilt! She’ll rub my nose in it!”
“And what is that to you?”
I tell you it took all stinkin’ day to finally write, “Forgive me”, on that card and spit on a stamp and shove it in the outgoing mail slot, so I couldn’t retrieve it, should the impulse to do so get the better of me.
Sure enough, on Thursday the phone rang. She called to rub my nose in it.
That night I had another dream.
I was in the salon doing someone else’s hair and she was in my way. She was a rather wide women, and the floor area of that space didn’t accommodate the 2 of us very well. I was, in the dream, trying to avoid and ignore her - like the elephant in the room, so to speak. No pun intended.
When finally she said, “I have one thing to say and then I’m out of your life forever.”
I spun around and snapped at her, “WHAT?!”
She took my face between her hands, kissed me and said, “Thank you.” Then she disappeared and I woke up.
I was shaken to the core - but she was gone! The bitterness, hate, injustice and anger were all gone as well!
End of story? Nope. Not even close.
Two days later, that next Saturday Mike, Chris and Jen went with Kenny and Shelley (newlyweds) to play Putt-Putt at The Ranch. It was going to be late, so I opted to stay home with Rachel. She was asleep when the phone rang. The person on the other end said that there had been an accident and that my kids were with them at the convenience store down the road from my house.
“What about Mike? How’s Mike?”
She just kept assuring me that my kids were fine. The ambulance was there and the EMTs were working on him.
I called the neighbors to watch Rae and drove to the accident. My kids were standing outside the convenience store with the lady who had called, and Mike was being wheeled into the ambulance.
I really don’t remember much after that - I must have driven Chris and Jen home, called my folks to come to the house to stay with the kids and I went to the hospital. I was in the ER with Mike and he was recounting the entire ordeal. At some point my friend, Myrna, shows up, and we wait in the ER while they run the tests, clean him up and reattach his ear.
He’s going to be discharged. I was told to bring the car around to pick him up. Myrna and I walk out of the double doors, leading from the ER to the waiting area, where all of Mike’s friends have been sitting in chairs configured in a large square, facing one another. They stand when we walk out. And maintain that square formation. I see the paintings on the waiting area walls. They are the huge flowers I’d seen in my dream the week before. And then I look to my right, and sure enough. Myrna is wearing her turquoise wind suit.
The only difference from the dream and what I was facing in reality was that I hadn’t lost my husband! He was alive, and coming home. I wasn’t facing a future as a single mom.
There is absolutely no doubt in my mind whatsoever that had I refused to follow The Lord’s instruction on Monday, and not asked for forgiveness, the enemy would have killed Mike that night, and possibly Chris and Jen. But a simple act of obedience was sufficient to squelch the plans the enemy had made and would have had every legal basis to execute, based on my actions, words, and insistence on playing by his rules of death for sin.
I had walked in sin for months by recounting, replaying, repeating, declaring, bad-mouthing, gossipping, and building my case rather than letting The One I claimed to be my Lord, Savior, Defender and King dictate my actions, words and behavior. But the moment I surrendered to His instruction, even though I did so grudgingly and without any heartfelt agreement, the law was established and that single act of obedience allowed Heaven to intervene in Hell’s plans.
Jennifer literally felt an angelic hand holding her against the bench seat she was sleeping on, but not buckled to. Twelve-year-old Chris was buckled in the front passenger seat and was easily the hero that night. From keeping the full-size Chevy conversion van from hitting any other vehicles on highway 44 when his dad blacked out, and stood up straight and stiff on the accelerator, hitting the ditch on the right that had a small irrigation ditch. When the van went airborne - flipped end over end Mike was thrown out, landing in that water-filled irrigation ditch, buffering the impact and just deep enough to keep him from being crushed.
Chris climbed out and found his dad in the darkness because Mike's white sneakers were sticking out of the water. Chris held Mike’s unconscious head above the water until EMTs arrived.
Yes, things would have, should have, turned out very differently that night. But God is gracious! He desires to work in our lives, but that ability often hinges on us. If we want to enjoy the benefits of His Kingdom on Earth, as it is enjoyed in Heaven, we must obey the laws of Heaven’s Kingdom. We can’t follow the laws of the kingdom of darkness and expect the fruits of God’s Kingdom.
Was my simple obedient “Forgive me” - paid at the cost of my pride and a stamp worth it? A million times yes!
Has the Spirit of God asked you to give up something so He might have legal recourse to intervene on your behalf? A card, a 32 cent stamp? A smidge of pride? The right to be ‘right’?
It is not because He needs a card or a stamp - He needs you to agree with Him and His ways so that He can break the hold the enemy has gained in those traps the enemy has set to keep us from enjoying life the way God has intended.
Just do it!
