Laura Lee Perkins

Decision Tine

 

As I neared the culmination of a one-year sabbatical at the University of Arizona in Tucson, I was struggling, conflicted about returning to rural Maine after living in this vibrant city. I decided to take time off to think on a beautiful 75 degree day in March.

 

Perhaps I should drive to the summit of 9,300’ Mt. Lemmon? Climbing into my Honda CRX, I opened the sun-roof and began the drive. Entering the Mt. Lemmon Road, I progressed into higher elevations where the forest thickened and made rapid progress up to 8,700’, where a CLOSED barrier appeared. Hmmm. No place to park here. I was cautious about the road’s edge; the drop off was thousands of feet.

 

I backed off the side of the road where small piles of icy-snow remained and had an unobstructed view over the valley. Clouds, propelled by a stiff breeze, rolled by. Stepping out into blustery winds and temps in the 40s, I walked around my vehicle several times, inhaling deep breaths of crisp mountain air. Grabbing my lunch, I climbed into the passenger’s seat, which offered a panoramic view and more space.

 

Okay. I came here to think through my confusion. Enveloped in solitude, I didn’t comfortable in this isolated place. Darn! It was time to plan my return to Maine, but leaving Tucson felt impossible. I’d made new friends and expanded my professional status. I was thriving. How can I give this up? Conflicted, I burst into tears. I had to fulfill my repayment debt for this amazing sabbatical year. My two daughters were in college. I was a single parent. Internal conflict reigned. I felt selfish. Feeling devastated and alone, I closed my eyes to pray, out loud. “Please help me make this decision. Please guide me. Please help me know I’m not alone. Is anyone listening?”

 

Suddenly, I sensed a presence and held my breath; it felt like someone was in my car! I could smell a sweet aroma as a man’s arm came across the back of my seat. I opened my eyes, turning to defend myself from the dark-headed, bearded male in the driver’s seat! He didn’t look real ─ sort of opaque. Am I going crazy? How had he entered ─ through the open sun-roof? Mesmerized, I couldn’t speak and became aware of an iridescent glow around him. A deep feeling of peace enveloped me. I felt totally safe. Then he spoke. “Do not be afraid. I am with you now and shall remain with you. Everything will be all right. I’m in the driver’s seat.” Then he disappeared.

 

Opening the passenger-side door, I jumped out, hurrying around the car to sit where he had been. The driver’s seat felt warm with his presence. Was this a miracle? Yes. I moved immediately from fear into deep trust that I would find a solution to this dilemma. He didn’t offer me an answer, but his presence expanded my courage and patience. All I have to do is trust.