Today, I’m sharing a friend with you, Lisa Buffaloe.
Lisa is an author, speaker, happily married
mom, and host for Living Joyfully Free Radio. Her past experiences—molestation
by a baby-sitter, assault, rape by a doctor, divorce, being stalked, cancer, death
of loved ones, seven surgeries, and eleven years of chronic illness from Lyme
Disease—bless her with a backdrop to share about God’s unending love and that
through Him we find healing, restoration, and renewal. She is the author of Prodigal Nights and a contributing
author of The One Year Book of Joy
and Laughter.
At the end of the post, you can read about her new book, Grace for the Char-Baked. I know you’ll
enjoy Lisa’s scary adventure and surprise ending. I hope you’ll leave her a
comment.
Ice, Painters, and Angels
By Lisa Buffaloe
Gray-green clouds billowed on the evening horizon. With a
quick goodbye to my co-workers, I hurried to my car. Rain fell and quickly
morphed into sleet. The windshield wipers flapped at full speed, and I gripped
the wheel as I drove the winding back roads to my parents’ home in the country.
Slowing down for a curve, my tires lost traction. The car
spun out of control, skidded sideways and crashed into a deep ditch. Rattled
but unscathed, I sat praying, wondering what to do. My car was stuck.
Thirty minutes from home and without a cell phone, I had the
option to walk or sit and wait. If I waited, my parents wouldn’t know I was
missing for at least an hour, and they wouldn’t know which country road I had
taken.
Several farm houses sat off the road but even to reach them
would be a long walk. The only person within walking distance was a young man
who had his checking account at the bank where I worked. I didn’t know him
well. I was a teenage bank teller, and he was a flirt.
Thinking perhaps he might be my best opportunity, I made my
way up the ditch.
A beat-up, old station wagon stopped next to me and the
passenger window rolled down. “Can I drive you somewhere?” The driver was
an elderly man wearing stained painter’s coveralls.
The freezing rain picked up in intensity. I hesitated and
glanced at the abundance of paint brushes, rollers, and paint cans spread
throughout his vehicle. Cold and with limited choices, I opened the door and
sat in his car. “I know someone nearby. He lives in a trailer up the road.
Could you take me there?”
He looked at me, his gaze unwavering. “How well do you know him?” Somehow, I could see my dad asking the same question.
I squirmed at his fatherly scrutiny. “Not well, he has an account
at the bank where I work.”
He shook his head. “I won’t take you there. How far do you
live?”
“About thirty minutes. But you don’t have to drive me that
far.”
Again his gaze locked into mine. “Do you have anyone you know well, or your parents know who lives closer?”
I couldn’t think of anyone for a few minutes, until I
remembered a family friend. “Yes sir. One of my mom’s friends lives about ten
minutes away.”
He nodded and we drove in silence.
The house stood nestled off the road in a stand of trees. The
man pulled down the wet pine-straw covered driveway and stopped. I thanked him
and offered to pay for his trouble. Declining my offer, he waited as I ran to
the house.
My mom’s friend greeted me with open arms. A breeze filtered
through the trees. I looked back. The pine-straw was undisturbed. My rescuer
was gone.
Life is full of unseen dangers. Thankfully, we have a God
who protects, guides, and holds our hand through the storms of life. And
sometimes, He even sends someone wearing painter’s coveralls to carry us safely
home.
About Grace for the
Char-Baked...
With “Char” as a nickname, Charlotte Wilson’s cooking skills
are more incendiary than culinary. Charlotte
is the last person on earth who should run a bake sale. But when her plans of
running in a charity marathon are sidelined by a broken foot, her old flame’s
suggestion becomes a challenge amidst her friend’s simmering doubts.
Luke Hammond has spent the last five years studying and
preparing to travel overseas as a medical missionary. When his high school
sweetheart unexpectedly comes back in his life, Luke wrestles with what he
feels God calling him to be and what he wants to do. His reappearance rekindles
an attraction that could char Luke and Charlotte’s heart or cook up the perfect
romance.
Lisa's book can be found at Amazon and CreateSpace. Her other book, Prodigal Nights, can be found at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and CreateSpace.
Thank you so much for allowing me the honor of guest posting on your site.
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you, sweet Lynn!!
Wonderful post, Lisa! God bless - and God bless you too, Lynn. :)
ReplyDeleteAlways my pleasure to have you as a guest, Lisa!
ReplyDeleteHey, Michael! I haven't seen you in ages! How are you? Thanks so much for stopping by.
ReplyDeleteWonderful Post, Lisa and Lynn!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Michael and Sherry!
ReplyDeleteI'm so grateful for God's protection and provision.
Blessings to you both,
Lisa
The mysterious ways of God. Sometimes he brings painters on snowy nights and sometimes he lets us walk through the storm. but he makes beauty from all of it. Love the story.
ReplyDeleteGreat story, Lisa....God often sends his angels to watch over us, thankfully. Hugs to you and congrats on your book.
ReplyDeleteLove this story Lisa!
ReplyDeleteGod was looking out for you that day, and
He taught you that He has a few Godly painters in His brigade.
Sherry, Marcia, Renee, and Poppa, thank you all so much for stopping by and commenting. Bless you!
ReplyDeleteGreat story, Lisa. One never knows what form our protection is going to come in.
ReplyDeletewhat an amazing testimony and story...thanks, Lisa, for sharing! Thanks, Lynn, for hosting :)
ReplyDeleteAmen, Marcia! Regardless of the storm or the rescue, God is always in control and always creates beauty!
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you,
Lisa
Thank you, Renee. Hugs to you, sweet lady!
ReplyDeletePoppa, I'm so grateful for God's Godly painter brigade! :D
ReplyDeleteCecilia, our God is so creative! I've been through some rough patches, but God never left my side and His rescue always came!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Dolly!
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you,
Lisa