By Cosette Snarr

We were going through one of the most difficult financial seasons of our lives—so difficult that we knew we’d have to sell our house just to stay afloat. That’s when my husband’s brother made us an offer: if we agreed to take care of their aging parents—who were living in a care facility—they would pay us instead.

As hard as I knew it would be, I agreed. The weight of our financial burden was heavy, and this would lift it.

I also knew this was only a temporary solution. Both of my in-laws were in their 90s and had Alzheimer’s. I told myself that while they were with us, I’d use that time to find a career that could eventually replace the income we'd lose when they passed.

But for six and a half years, I struggled to find anything that worked. I tried. Over and over. Nothing viable stuck. Eventually, I just threw my hands in the air and gave up. I figured I’d deal with it when the time came.

By then, my father-in-law had passed, and my mother-in-law was 98, frail, and clearly declining. I knew I didn’t have much time left.

One day, I felt prompted to revisit our life insurance situation. I contacted our agent, who reviewed everything and recommended a few changes. We shuffled things around, and in the end, I ended up with a few thousand dollars in the bank. It felt like a small miracle.

Not long after, my brother-in-law—the one in charge of all final decisions for their care—dropped a bomb: he had decided it was time to place Mom in a facility. Our services were no longer needed.

What?! No thank you? No conversation about how this would affect us? Just... done?

I was stunned. And furious. And deeply hurt. We had no say in the matter, and I wasn’t ready—emotionally or financially. How were we going to survive?

Panic set in. My first instinct was to find a job. But after so many years out of the workforce—and at 62—who was going to hire me? And how could I possibly find a job that matched the income we’d been receiving to care for the folks?

My mind spun in circles, flipping through a short list of seemingly impossible options. Nothing felt right. I ranted and raged for a couple of days—then finally, I made myself stop. I needed to quiet the noise so I could think. I reminded myself that we had that insurance money, enough to get by for a few weeks. I felt a very clear impression:

Be still.

I didn’t have the answers. But I believed, deep down, that they were coming. And in order to receive them, I had to clear my mind of the fear and anger. I intentionally chose to trust that God would take care of us.

Six weeks later, I felt a distinct nudge to act. I sat down, ran the numbers, looked at every possible scenario—and the answer came. It wasn’t flashy or magical, but it was clear. If certain things came together, I could make this work. And I believed they would. The peace I felt confirmed I was on the right path.

Within a few short weeks, our house sold for full asking price. We paid off most of our debt and moved into a brand-new townhouse.

As hard and unfair as it felt to lose the income we’d been counting on, our financial situation ended up improving significantly. I couldn’t have seen it at the time, but looking back, the whole experience was nothing short of divinely orchestrated.