My son’s laptop died. That is, it stopped charging; at first it would feebly charge up if left plugged in overnight. Then it stopped recognizing that there was a cable plugged in. The day after that, it stopped responding at all; it became a paperweight, a block of black plastic with stickers on the lid.

My youngest son was mildly inconvenienced by his laptop giving up, but he has full control of the “family” desktop, plus a newer, more powerful desktop computer that his older brother helped buy parts for and then assembled with him. He also inherited the family’s Wii, plus the Switch, two Gameboy Advances, and a 3DS, handheld game machines. It’s not unheard of for him to play Dungeons and Dragons over voice chat with friends on the main desktop computer, with his laptop on his lap looking up information, and a handheld in his hands playing a game.

He’s not currently taking college classes and his homeschool co-op classes don’t require him to bring a laptop; I seriously considered not replacing his laptop. We took the unresponsive laptop to our favorite neighborhood computer repairman, a guy we’ve known for years and whose business we have followed to two new locations. He spent a week running tests, checking the charging cable and battery first, but it still did nothing. The only thing left was the motherboard, the sheet of computer chips that is the core of the computer. It didn’t respond at all, no matter what he did. So I asked him to research what it would cost to replace the motherboard and what it would cost to replace the entire machine.

The motherboard could be replaced, if he special ordered it; each laptop type uses a different motherboard and they’re put together like jigsaw puzzles. It would have to fit exactly. The cost would be half the cost of a new computer, plus installation; it might take weeks to arrive and the rest of the computer would still be two-three years old. It wasn’t a cutting edge laptop when we got it.

My son programs computer games for fun, making modifications to his sisters’ games as Christmas presents. He needs something powerful enough to keep up with what he’s working on. The more powerful of the two desktops works well for this; it’s also full to bursting with games and files he doesn’t want to delete.

The laptop that died is one that we special ordered from our computer repairman as part of a set, one for my youngest son and one for my youngest daughter, sturdy and good enough to last at least a couple years. Knowing we live on our computers, he offered to sell my son his gaming laptop, a much newer, more powerful machine. He said he has a gaming rig at home, his desktop with speakers and all the bells and whistles. He hasn’t used his gaming laptop, he said, because it’s at work and he’s been so busy he hasn’t had time to do more than install a chat program on it, called Discord. The price he quoted is, I’m sure, less than he paid for it. I told him I’d talk it over with my son.

For several days I stewed over this; it’s a huge investment. Miraculously my bank account had enough and to spare. I’m not sure how God managed that. I had spent a fortune on food storage while my daughter was in the hospital. Retail therapy, I called it. Besides, my son was willing to do without a laptop. He said it would be nice to have, but he didn’t NEED it. He’s trying to be fiscally responsible, reminding me we have food at home when I’m tempted to buy take-out.

The thought of buying another laptop wouldn’t leave my mind. I felt nervous and jittery; I thought of how my son will be going on a mission next year and won’t be taking a laptop with him. I thought, I want a more powerful laptop myself but the one I have is powerful enough for what I’m doing and it would be extra, plus I’d have to move my files to it. That would be work.

My daughter wanted to go with us to the computer store; we like the guy. He’s interesting to talk to about computers and is always willing to answer our questions. So as we’re getting ready, I’m nearly sobbing, trying to determine if I’m doing the right thing in not getting a replacement laptop. I told her, “Why do I care if he has a laptop? Why does this matter so much to me?” My daughter, who has left the church and says she doesn’t believe in God, told me, “It feels weird for me to say this, but have you done your thinking and praying about it?”

I stopped and thought. I had prayed about it, multiple times, but hadn’t felt easy with any answer. The saving money answer was the one that made logical sense, but it didn’t feel right. So I asked Joshua to pray over it. We sat quietly in the van, in the driveway, while he prayed. There was quiet for a few minutes. Then he said, “I feel comfortable with replacing it.” I relaxed.

We drove to the store, talked to the man, saw the really nice laptop he offered. We talked about ways to get information off of the old laptop’s hard drive, including how to install the hard drive into the newer laptop. My son can move the files, so I asked if there was anything he’d need to watch out for. The computer guy said it would be pretty straightforward. He offered to take the RAM chip from the dead laptop and install it into my daughter’s identical, working laptop, and suggested we keep the dead laptop for spare parts in case hers breaks. Since the dead laptop had two hard drives in it, I asked about getting a case for the second hard drive and using it as an external storage for holding extra files. He said that would be easy to do.

So we bought the gaming laptop, plus paid for labor, moving parts around, plus a case for the second hard drive. It came to less than the cost of buying a new powerful laptop, and my daughter will have spare parts when she needs them. I feel good about the decision. I’m not sure why I felt so driven to get it; it’s over a thousand dollars. But there must be a reason. I don’t know what God has in mind, but I know he has a plan.