Okay, Readers, you know that this miracle didn’t happen to me: golf course would be your key words. But I know a miracle when I hear one, and this one is too clear not to report. As I’ve said before, our God is a clever God, he makes things happen in ways that anyone can believe. Anyone, no doubt.
I may be among the few who listen to their hair stylist (only in CA is hair cut by a stylist, where many are men), rather than bend the ear of my stylist during my appointment. So, I was used to listening to Leonard. The month previously I’d absorbed his anxiety, as he contemplated leaping from his self-owned salon, downsizing to a leased station in another mogul’s place. The Irvine Company was legendary for increasing business rent, no deals allowed, with customer loyalty as the prisoner of it’s teeth-bared policies, and I commiserated.
This month I knew as soon as I sat down, swaddled in the black plastic gown: Leonard was more settled. He was beaming with his news: he’d decided on an apropos place. The move date and particulars were set. Everything was to his liking. Even his retribution for the Irvine Co. – so there!
As he trimmed near my ears, he bent in to whisper of an instance that validated the deal – it’s timing was near Easter, so he was doubly awed.
He’d ventured with one salon, but the deal fell apart. Then, through his relentless networking, he learned of another opportunity. He’d felt welcome, secure, but just a bit unsettled – it was a huge downshift, but choices were slim. His business was centered within certain mileage perimeters: Irvine residents are spoiled by the community’s convenience. We don’t travel far. Leonard feared that his customers would dump him, following the Irvine Co’s self-centered model, if he relocated too far. The new salon was only 5 miles away.
As he wrestled the decision – it’s complications and implications – on one slow business day, he abandoned all and went to the local golf course. Alone.
The course was nearly deserted. Most of its frequent players were at work. Leonard enjoyed the solitude. His worries ebbed with each whack of the ball, soaring into the stratosphere as he played a great round.
At the 9th tee, the fairway where he planned to end his game, a bicyclist wandered nearby. Irvine is well-known for its numerous, wide and clearly-marked trails. There was several bounding the golf course. What was this yokel doing?
Leonard put down his club and smiled at the guy who stopped at the perimeter of the tee plane. “May I help you?” he said, the whitest of teeth showcased by a tan.
The guy smiled back, his mouth among the only body parts not sheathed in bicyclist armor. He removed the weirdly shaped helmet and the mirrored wrap-around sunglasses made famous by Tour de France – and he said, “For some reason, I felt like a bike ride this morning. I hadn’t taken this path before and somehow strayed. But I think the lost is found, Leonard.”
It was the owner of the new salon where Leonard would be re-establishing his business, God’s validation of their plan.
I’ve had my hair cut and styled at the new place – it’s divine!