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I sent my acquaintance an e-mail message containing the title and the outline. A day later, I received an encouraging response; he wanted to read the manuscript. So I sent it to him. Within weeks, I had a contract; it required only a little tweaking of two or three brief portions of the manuscript.

While talking to the editor assigned to this project, I discovered something astonishing. The publisher wanted to pay me a handsome royalty in advance for the book. It was approximately ten times anything I had ever received up-front before. I felt like I had won the lottery!

Later, I took another brisk walk through my neighborhood. My mind was concentrating on the financial windfall and how to use it. Coincidentally, the estimated cost of my house's much-needed roof replacement was the same as the royalty advance paid by my new publisher. The answer seemed clear—a new roof.

Then God spoke: "It's not your money."

Those were the first words of a conversation that lasted on and off for several days. Knowing instantly it wasn't a "brain hiccup" but something more real and serious, I asked, "What do you mean it's not my money?" My tone was resentful and defensive.

"It's not your money. It's his." The voice inside my head was as real as if it were audible. I knew with terrifying certainty it wasn't my imagination, because I didn't want to hear it.

"Whose?" I asked.

The voice named the young man for whom I had been praying only a few weeks earlier. "It's for him to go to the university and study for the ministry."

"All of it?"

"That and the rest."

I knew "the rest" meant any further royalties the book might earn after it was published.

Absolutely flabbergasted, I raised my fist in the air and asked aloud, "What about my roof?"

The voice said, "I'll take care of your roof, if you'll be obedient."

Then I said, "If you want to use me to help him go to the university, why not give me everything it will cost? Why this amount that will make a difference but not pay his whole way?"

"Others have to be obedient, too," I heard in reply.

When I arrived home, I shared the conversation with my wife, who had been looking forward to a roof that wouldn't leak. I couldn't talk about it without sobbing almost uncontrollably. I was shaking with emotion. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. My wife is more spiritual than I am. She immediately agreed; we would wait for a new roof.

Over the next few months, I sent letters and e-mails and made phone calls about my young friend and his financial needs. I felt driven and couldn't stop talking about him. Because the university's deadline for need-based financial aid had passed without him or his parents applying, it looked like he would have to live with us to save money. But this would violate campus policy for first-year students, who are required to live in dorms. I sent an e-mail to the dean of student development, almost begging him to make an exception.

A couple weeks later, I received an e-mail back from the dean, saying the university was awarding him a very large scholarship that would more than cover his room and board. Soon a foundation kicked in $2,000. Then two more scholarships came. It became apparent that God was working miracles through several people.

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March 2007, Vol. 51, No. 3