Last month, I laid out a fleece. (If you don’t know about fleeces, go read Judges 6:36-40 and then come back.)

As anyone who’s been reading this blog for awhile knows, this summer was not kind to me on the writing front. In fact, this whole year has been pretty much a wash: I’ve made 200 whopping bucks, less than any year since I first started freelancing in 2005 (that year I made a staggering $260).

Needless to say, I have long since used up the second half of last year’s book advance paying for someone to watch my kids while I write articles and book proposals and novels that no one seems to want. (Wah, wah, wah. Okay, so I’ll quit whining now.) So last month I told God, “Look. I’m doing this because I think that’s what You want. But You’re going to have to show me the money, because I’m broke.”

At this point, God was doubtless raising amused eyebrows. My husband makes good money; our family is just fine financially. It’s only my writing money that’s gone, and no more to be had in sight. And since I am darn tired of being a drain on our family finances, even if it’s to pursue something I feel called to, I said, “All right, God, unless You provide me with a paying writing job by Labor Day, I’m going to have to cancel my sitter.” Them’s fightin’ words.

The Friday before Labor Day, I got two amazing emails in my inbox. The first was a request for a partial of my novel manuscript from Agent #11 (insert Hallelujah Chorus here)!!! The second was two out-of-the-blue work-for-hire assignments that together will pay for another month of childcare!

How’s that for an awesome answer to prayer?

Of course, next time I play Gideon, I’m going to be a lot more specific and ask for a $25K book advance…

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