Yesterday God heard me, and answered me with a resounding “Yes” that was unmistakable and miraculous.
It might not seem like a miracle to you, or it might seem like the obvious result of circumstances, but it wasn’t, I promise you.
Over the summer when my grandfather fell and was in the hospital for months, I managed his finances. I got an up close view of the cash flow situation and I would occasionally talk to his stockbroker and move money around. Twenty-four hour caregivers in their home is crazy expensive. But the nest egg is big enough that they can do it.
Now that my grandfather is home he has started paying his own bills again. But he still doesn’t seem to have a handle on the big picture of his expenses. His CPA reminded him that his quarterly income tax was overdue, so he scheduled an appointment with his stockbroker to talk about where to pull that money from. I always go to meetings with this broker, and have gotten to know him pretty well over the past few years.
I didn’t think too much about the meeting, but on my way I prayed specifically that it would be productive, that he would see how incredibly expensive their current lifestyle is, and that he might take the idea of moving into assisted living more seriously because of it. I was doubtful though, because in the past the broker advised them not to move to a facility. I didn’t really think this meeting was likely to convince him to move.
But I did pray, specifically, that it might.
In the course of about fifteen minutes, their trusted financial planner laid out how much of their nest egg they needed to free up for the next six months of home health care and tax expenses and where it should come from. I mostly sat quietly but pointed out a couple of ways the expenses would drop by about 75% if they moved. The broker took my cue and proceeded to happily give them the hard sell on downsizing. He explained to my deaf grandmother that if they continued at their current rate of spending, their portfolio would be gone in about five years.
My poor grandfather looked like he had been hit with a ton of bricks. He was mostly very quiet but I could see the wheels turning. After a few minutes he said, “We have to move.”
On the way out of the meeting he had a dizzy spell and had a really tough time just getting to the car. My grandmother seemed concerned, which is good, because she continues to deny they need any help at all. Her solution to the cash crunch is to fire all the help. She thinks they are an unnecessary luxury. She is, of course, wrong. If they had no help, they would not eat, and my grandfather would fall over and over.
I went back to their house with them and my grandfather, almost obsessively, told my grandmother, “I’m sorry Gladys, but we have to move. We can’t afford to stay.” He seems to have instantly swung from one extreme of the spectrum to the other. It’s painful to watch because he really doesn’t need to be so worried about money and I wish he didn’t feel trapped by it. But at the same time it needs to happen and if this is what it takes to spur him to action, so be it.
I left their house thanking God profusely for hearing my prayer. But I also left with my heart aching for what my grandparents are feeling and the loss they are facing.
P.S. – Also yesterday the mail brought us our approval letter from US immigration to adopt from Haiti. So it seems God *really* wanted to send me good news this week.
