In 2009 I optimistically proclaimed to a friend that 2010 would be the “best year of my life…evah!” Less than a week later I was unexpectedly and unceremoniously laid off. I wasn’t worried. I tallied my assets and decided that there was no reason to reach for the panic button. I had savings, minimal credit card debt, a solid work history in my industry, my car was newly paid off and I could count on a small but dependable unemployment check. I expected to be quickly re-employed with the only damage being a slightly dented savings account. I was even secretly a little pleased about being able to temporarily step off the six day a week, 10+ hours a day treadmill.

Less than three months later that confident optimism had received some scary reality checks. The universe had decided it was time to screw me - hard. After three years of no rent increases, the owner of my cute little house, in financial trouble himself, significantly raised my rent - the same week I was laid off. My once dependable little Honda had turned into a mechanic’s wet dream. Appliances that had purred along smoothly for years began clanking and clunking and I was faced with the choice of replacing or paying expensive repair bills. The microwave - meh, I chunked in the dumpster along with a little tear. The washer - no realistic option but to replace it. Concerned at how rapidly my savings were diminishing, I turned to my ONE credit card to offset some of the major expenses. Big mistake. My interest rate didn’t just increase, it doubled. Along with my electric bill. Yea, that was the winter my little corner of Florida decided to dip into the 30’s.

Spring came and instead of any sense of renewed hope, I had fallen into a pretty deep depression. All of my carefully crafted resumes and cover letters seemed to be falling into a humanless void. Not a single interview was tossed my way. No phone calls, no e-mails. Networking through friends and former business associates yielded sympathy and suggestions but no job. It became scary. My meager unemployment benefits would end soon, my savings were rapidly diminishing, and there was no prospective employment. Unless something changed, quickly, I was facing homelessness in the too near future.

So, I did what any rational, well educated, mature human being would do. I began praying for a miracle. I read and re-read the scriptures of my childhood. I looked for inspiration and hope in every corner. That’s how I stumbled upon a blog by Anne Cameron Cutri. She had written a post called “Hold Fast: The words of Saint Clare of Assisi.” Every single word spoke to what I was experiencing. Without knowing it, she became part of my miracle. She didn’t send me money, offer me a job or put food on my table. Other people did help do those things and I am forever grateful. But she, through her words, gave me the courage I needed to reach out for their help before I drowned. Her words helped lift me out of my depression just enough to make some hard choices I needed to make in order to save myself.

It’s been nearly three months since I was at my lowest point. I am once again working in my field. Two days ago, for the first time in eight months I was actually able to put money into my savings rather than draw it out. Today I paid, with no assistance, the rent on my new (tiny but comfortable) studio. A place where I no longer have to obsessively calculate how many more months I’ll be able to pay the rent. This evening I’ll go to the grocery store and buy what I want to eat for the week instead of trying to figure out how long I can stretch out $20 worth of cheap pasta, rice and beans.

Best of all, this afternoon I’ll give a gift to someone who has helped me tremendously. It’s a beautiful print, “Refiner’s Fire” that I bought from Anne’s website. It’s a tiny way of saying “thank you” to someone who helped restore my physical well-being. Just as this post is my way of saying “thank you” to Anne - the person who helped restore my spiritual well-being. Thank you, Anne.