I did not want to go back to a 9-to-5 job. I had been visiting the USA for a couple of months—not by choice, but by divine instruction—and was still figuring out why I was here. I had come to promote some of my company’s services by giving free seminars in New York City, where most of my students joined as an online audience, even though my company was based in India.
We needed a venue for in-person seminars, and a potential business partner and friend helped arrange one at the public library, where I gave my first talk to a group of students rotating through nearby hospitals. Changing into a formal coat and suit in a public restroom and having my makeup done in one of New York’s famous boroughs was both humbling and exhilarating—especially coming from India!
Later, we decided we should probably have a functioning office in NYC—preferably in Manhattan, close to the hospitals where my potential students were. Someone encouragingly joked, “An office in NYC? That’s a great idea. Get ready to sell one of your kidneys.”
Despite the notion of losing one of my essential—but technically spare—organs, we went ahead and asked a realtor to look for a small room in a multi-office workplace. We didn’t really expect to find something in our budget or in the exact location we wanted.
It looked like I was going to stay here for a while, so after a few months, I decided to buy a car. The agony of not having a car to hop into and go wherever I wanted—which we often take for granted—was made very real during those first few months.
Weeks went by. Some friends of my partner were visiting her, and she decided to show them New York City. I tagged along, especially since it was my new car’s first ride into the city. I couldn’t drive yet, as I hadn’t gotten my permanent license. My friend warned me about driving through New York—people crossing the road wherever they pleased, drivers cutting you off, showing their famous fingers, and the endless honking (like India!), not to mention the sudden appearances of one-way streets.
I knew I couldn’t enjoy the visit if I was behind the wheel, so I let my friend drive. As I sat in the passenger seat, craning my neck to admire the skyscrapers while she zipped through the streets, I began to understand why people joked about needing to sell a kidney just to be part of this world.
The car eventually pulled up in front of a beautiful church, just opposite Wall Street in the Financial District of Lower Manhattan. The moment my foot touched Manhattan soil, I instantly felt the presence of God as I saw the name “Trinity Church.” It felt significant because the church we had attended for almost a decade in India was called Trinity Worship Center.
The rest of the day was spent exploring the church’s stunning architecture, swinging by Central Park, and visiting the 9/11 Memorial, where the twin towers once stood—now replaced by a beautiful fountain, with the names of those precious lives engraved along its walls.
As we waited on the sidewalk for my friend to pick us up, I realized I hadn’t captured my car’s first visit to NYC. Just then, my shiny new car approached in the rain, and I noticed a stunning, architecturally beautiful building lit in the background. I had to bend down awkwardly in the rain to get both the car and the building in one shot—but it was worth it.
Tired and exhausted, our team returned home that night.
A few days later, we got a call from the realtor: there was an office space available in the heart of Manhattan.
As I walked through the grand, beautifully crafted wooden doors of the building—with golden handles, paintings lining the hallways, and even the elevator looking exquisite—all I could think about was the cost of one kidney. Walking down those elegant corridors, I happened to notice the building was owned by Trinity Church.
Within a few hours, we met the owners, shook hands, and the deal was made.
We had an office to rent in Manhattan—without having to sell any body parts! 😊
Feeling happy and content, we decided to walk around the building and grab some lunch. It was a bright, sunny day, and we chose to sit outside on some chairs, admiring the rear view of the building. That view looked strangely familiar. Some of my neurons began firing—I had seen this building before.
I scrolled through the photos on my phone from the previous week, and there it was: the picture I had taken of my car, parked in front of a gorgeous building. That very building… was now home to my new office.
God knew before I knew. He planned it—not just a week ago, perhaps when I packed my suitcases from India or perhaps even when I was formed in my mother’s womb. I’m pretty sure He was giggling when I bent down in the rain to take that photo, unknowingly capturing my pre-ordained miracle in Manhattan.
Scripture
Isaiah 25:1 Lord, you are my God;
I will exalt you and praise your name,
for in perfect faithfulness
you have done wonderful things,
things planned long ago.