Sometimes I wonder if God is watching out for me. Other times I KNOW he is. When we moved to NYC in typical peter-and-La Sha fashion (which is to say with little preparation and mostly flying by the seats of our pants) I could only hope to find a job. ANY job. (Especially with this crazy economy and my dubious education/ experience; "so... um... I worked at a camp for a long time... but you can't call them for a reference- it's an underground operation and they don't have a phone").
But God takes care of me when I rely on Him, and after only a little job-hunting I walked into a florist's shop just to look around. There wasn't a help wanted sign and they didn't appear to be understaffed, but I was compelled to ask if they needed any help.
Mind you... I have NO previous experience as a professional florist.
I started working there three days later.
(I LOVE IT and it pays well).
Right place, right time.
Some call it luck.
I call it BLESSED.
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