Just thirty-two cents in our bank account , I thought when I awoke one breezy fall morning, my stomach tightening. How am I ever going to pay the babysitter today?
My husband, Boyd, and I had just moved back to South Carolina from Tennessee with our five-year-old, Mindy, and baby, Meredith, to be closer to my mom. Boyd had found a good job as a HR manager, but wouldn’t be getting paid till the following week and the moving expenses had drained our bank account.
I was taking a class in the afternoons to renew my teaching certificate since I’d taken time off to stay home with our girls for the last few years. Mom had graciously loaned me the money for the class, but I still needed to pay the babysitter, a wonderful older lady who was happy to watch the girls for only five dollars. There was just one catch. She insisted on being paid up front each day. It had seemed completely doable when I first talked to her, but now five dollars might as well been five hundred.
Lord, I really need five dollars today! I prayed.
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