My thoughts jumped from editing 154 blog posts, which felt like the right answer, to the more glamorous and profitable ideas of pitching articles to a national magazine and signing a book deal.
I argued over the next step in my writing career while I vacuumed. Distracted, I nearly sucked up a penny from our dining room floor.
Finding money at the very moment I was thinking about blog posts let me know, small goal or not, I was right where I was supposed to be.
I say that same thing every time I pick up money. In fact, that’s the origin of my blog’s closing “Write where I’m supposed to be.”
My habit of looking for change began before our kids were born, and unintentionally turned into a family ritual once they were old enough to play along. When they argued about where to eat dinner or what activity to plan for the evening, we’d finally make a decision and implement it, and I’d find money. Not every time, but it happened often enough I started paying attention and so did they.
Silly as it sounds, finding money calmed disagreements.
“See, we’re right where we’re supposed to be,” I’d say.
Finding money also helped with discipline.
I walked daily, sometimes to deliberate over a problem like the kids’ undone homework or one of them talking back. A possible solution would come to mind and, next thing I knew, I’d find a penny on the ground.
I figured God was letting me know to trust him, as well as to trust my own decisions. I mean, there can’t be that many people dropping money. They are pennies from heaven, for sure.
Maybe you have a sign that let’s you know you are right where you’re supposed to be? I’d love to hear from you.
WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – When in doubt, look around. Sometimes the answer is right under your nose, which means I’ll be editing 154 blog posts.
On the side: Here’s a picture of our found money jar that gets fed almost daily. My husband reminded me that some 34 years ago, he and I rode around for hours to check paper machines and pay phones. To this day, I can’t pass a money slot without sticking in my finger, unless someone’s looking. Then I try to be discreet and just glance.