Thursday morning began like every other day for Jessica—kneeling at the feet of Jesus.
Her room was a cozy mess of journals, scattered pens, and sticky notes with Bible verses scribbled in her pretty handwriting. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting soft golden patterns on her wall. It was her sanctuary, the place where every dream, every fear, every prayer was poured out.
Jessica's hands gripped her Bible, her voice soft but resolute.
> "Lord, I don't want to lean on my own understanding. Whatever happens today, I trust You. If the answer is yes, I praise You. If the answer is no… I still praise You."
She opened to Psalm 37:5, the page already worn from countless reads.
> "Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him, and He will act."
A deep breath.
Today was the day she might hear back. Or not.
Jessica forced herself up, slipped into her comfortable house slippers, and headed to the kitchen.
Her mom was there, rolling out dough with a rolling pin, her eyebrows drawn together in concentration. The aroma of fresh parathas filled the air, and her brother sat at the dining table, stuffing his face with buttered toast like it was his last meal.
"Morning, sleepyhead," he said with his mouth full, crumbs flying everywhere.
Jessica wrinkled her nose. "Can't you chew like a normal person?"
"Can't you act normal and not pace around like you're waiting for a marriage proposal?"
Her mom swatted his arm with the rolling pin. "Enough. Let your sister have some peace.
Jessica tried to smile, but her insides felt like they were doing a gymnastics routine. She checked her email every five minutes, refreshing the screen until she nearly wore out the F5 key.
Nothing.
No updates. No replies. Just the same empty inbox staring back at her.
She finally pushed the laptop away, rubbing her temples. "Maybe they're not interested. Maybe they found someone better."
Her mom placed a hot paratha on her plate and squeezed her shoulder gently. "God's timing, remember?"
Jessica nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. God's timing."
But did God's timing really align with her rent deadline?
---
It was late afternoon when it happened.
Jessica was lying on her bed, a pillow over her face, drowning in her own doubts. Her phone pinged, and she ignored it, convinced it was another random notification.
Then the second ping. Then the third.
She groaned and yanked the pillow away, reaching for her phone. The screen flashed with a new email notification.
> Subject: Sponsorship Approval – Elias Ventures
Her heart leaped into her throat.
No way.
She sat up so fast she nearly knocked over her cup of half-drunk chai. Her hands trembled as she opened the email.
> Dear Miss Maren,
Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that your sponsorship proposal has been approved. We believe in your vision and are eager to discuss the next steps. Please come to our headquarters this Monday at 10 a.m. to meet with our lead sponsor, Michael Elias. Looking forward to collaborating with you.
Jessica dropped the phone, her mouth falling open. The room seemed to spin.
"Oh my gosh," she breathed. "Oh. My. Gosh."
Before she could process it, her brother burst into the room, a half-eaten banana in hand. "What? Did you win the lottery?"
Jessica jumped up, her face flushed. "I got it! They said yes!"
His eyes widened. "For real?"
"For real!" she squealed, grabbing him by the arms and spinning him around. "They want me to come in on Monday to meet with the sponsor! I can't believe this!"
Her mom rushed in, a spatula still in her hand. "What's all the noise—"
Jessica threw her arms around her. "Mom, they said yes!"
"Oh, praise the Lord!" her mom exclaimed, her eyes shining. "I told you He would make a way! You never doubted, and God honored that!"
Jessica buried her face in her mom's shoulder, the smell of spices and oil somehow comforting. "I really didn't think… I thought it was over."
Her mom held her tight, rocking her gently. "You've been faithful, Jess. God sees that."
When Jessica finally pulled away, her heart still pounded. Monday. She had to go to Michael Elias' office on Monday.
Michael Elias.
That name lingered in her mind like a melody she couldn't shake. Why did it sound so familiar?
But before she could think too hard, she dropped to her knees beside her bed and closed her eyes. Her voice was thick with tears as she whispered,
> "Thank You, Jesus. Thank You for being faithful, even when I was afraid. Thank You for seeing me, for hearing me. This wasn't me—it was all You. Whatever happens on Monday, I trust You. If You brought me this far, You'll go further. I believe it."
And as she knelt there, letting her tears fall, she had no idea that on the other side of town, Michael Elias was reading that same email and feeling an unexpected flutter in his chest.
Monday.
10 a.m.
His office.
And the girl he couldn't forget was walking right into it.