Wearily, I lined up all fifty chapters on the floor like a long train, snaking from the front door through the living room and into the kitchen. I flopped down near the front door by chapter one, my head in my hands. “Lord Jesus, You’ve been my helper so far, but if You don’t come through now, I just can’t finish this.” I added a desperate, ridiculous-sounding request. “Lord, would You lend me about thirty IQ points for, say, four hours?”

Slowly I lifted my head. I felt a new energy, and clear thoughts marched into my mind. Ideas and solutions filed into neat rows. I scooted around on the floor, mumbling, rearranging, pulling out chapters, scribbling in pencil for hours. Finally, I crawled back to the front door and sat there with my heart overflowing with gratitude, my back and head resting against the wall. Even with my eyes closed, I sensed an intense golden light, sweet and encouraging, surrounding me and some of the chapters.

Some people might say that it was just the setting sun hitting a sliver of beveled glass in our front door. But to me, it was a sign from the One Who had rescued me—the job was done.

Lord Jesus, You are the same today, yesterday and forever.