One day, God

Today, I feel compelled to tell you a story. It began nearly two years ago when the first ones went missing…

You who come and read here know me as The Writer. But that’s not all I do. My day job, in fact, is medical transcription.

It was back in May 2011 that I lost the first account. Almost overnight, it vanished; dried up to a trickle. The one I’d been hired for; my bread-and-butter clinic, was gone. Thanks to a federal mandate, all physicians had been ordered to switch to EMRs (electronic medical records), and one by one, they began to leave. Taking with them a great chunk of my paycheck.

By the end of 2012, I’d hemorrhaged thousands of dollars. Helpless, I’d type what work I had, knowing it wasn’t enough, but powerless to change my circumstances.

At the same time, my husband, a self-employed business owner, was undergoing a massive transition himself. With my full support and blessing, he began the process of switching all of his accounts over to a new broker dealer. We knew it was a good move; knew the money would follow, but we watched, helpless again, as his main income stream dried up.

Into winter we went. With holidays approaching, we’d cut where we could. We’d pared life way back, saying the ‘no’s, putting our trust in the One who was faithful. And we waited.

Six days before Christmas, on an ordinary day, an email came: “It’s been sold.” And so it was that mid January found this girl making the transition to a new company. Where her accounts had all followed. Where there were, in fact, more. And where something miraculous began happening with her checks.

So it was that on Friday last, I found myself standing before the counter at the local credit union, throat squeezing tight, as I handed over a check and retired the debt. On my beloved BMV. The Blue Mommy Van.

Tears pricking in eyes, I remembered the prayer we’d just prayed. How we’d rejoiced, my husband and I, at what God was doing in his business and mine. Stepping into his arms before the trip to the bank, we’d bowed our heads and said, “Thank You,” to the One whom we’d trusted. Who’d given the gift. Who’d proven, once more, to be faithful.

Dear friend. How I long to encourage you with these words, “One day.” Every time my thoughts turn in wonder to what God has wrought in my life, this is what comes to mind: “One day.”

One day, an email. One day, a message. In the midst of the desert, one day…God. 

In all those days and weeks and months of struggle, He was working. Though I could not see it  and couldn’t tell how. All that time I was helpless, unable to change things. Then one day, God.

Let me just tell you, dear one, that in your own desert time; in your own days and weeks and months of struggle. Though you cannot see and you cannot tell how. All this time that you’re helpless, unable to change things, “One day, God.”

He’s got you in hand. He knows where you are. He’s guiding your steps, and He’s working it out. And one day, God.

“…and that’s what He did, and we–we’re so grateful.” I finish my story, smile shining like a thousand candles. With sincerest thanksgiving, I reach across the counter and receive it from her hand. The cheerful barista, she’s smiling, too. For one day, God…