The Old Family Home

Three and a half years ago, my husband completed his Fellowship at UVA and we moved to our current town. Neither of us were from here, nor did we have relatives or close friends in town. Our interview was during a layover from a redeye trip from a conference in Hawaii back to Charlottesville. We had landed in Atlanta at 5am after a long night with a crying 5 month old on our row. We were bleary eyed and exhausted. When we arrived they split us up. While he was touring the hospitals and clinic, I was on a whirlwind tour of the town with local women. At the end of our visit, we were reunited for the car ride back to the airport and both looked at each other nervously and asked, "Well....what did you think?" We both had an unexplained peace about this community and the opportunity it offered.

We returned after Christmas for a househunting trip. We narrowed our choices down to 2 homes. One of which was perfect for us as a young couple with no children and one we could grow into. We are a very practical couple, but something was pushing us to the larger home. We prayed hard and talked a lot about not falling into the trap of buying more than we needed. We opted for the larger home, hoping it was wisdom, not the allure of the roaring fire in the stacked stone fireplace that drove our decision. Five months after moving in, we discovered we were expecting triplets and it all made sense.

This home has served our family well. We are in a lovely neighborhood with a great yard. The layout suits our family wonderfully. We have lived through 2 large renovations and are wrapping up a small one. We are content and comfortable.

Yet, in December, I was flipping through a local real estate magazine during nap time and a house caught my eye. It was a charming home with a lovely front porch overlooking an expansive yard enclosed by a small white fence. The driveway is lined with oaks and a gas lantern greets guests at the end of the walk...and the neighbors happen to be some of the finest people in our community. I decided to call a realtor friend to take a peek, just for the heck of it. After the visit, I was intrigued enough to invite my hubby to come by and take a look a few days later. I assumed the likelihood of him entertaining the thought of moving was slim to none, so I withheld all excitement. Surprise! He loved it.

We agreed the asking price was much higher than we were comfortable paying. We both had the same value in mind--and it was 15% below the asking price. The house had only been listed for 2 weeks, not exactly a desperate seller. We prayed and talked and questioned our motives. We are content. Our current house is more than enough. Why would we move?

It was Christmas, so we put the house on the backburner--but we could not stop thinking about it. We must have each driven by 4-5 times a week--and it is not along one of our normal routes. We finally decided to be Gideon-esque and "lay out our fleece." We both felt strongly about this random dollar amount that had been in our minds since we toured the home. We prayed that God would enable us to remain un-emotional as we made this offer that seemed highly unlikely to be accepted. We prayed that if it were a move we should make, the offer would be accepted and if not we would continue to be content and happy with our current home. During this whole process I felt like God was whispering..."Pay attention. This is a big moment. Regardless of how this turns out, I am building a testimony for you to share with your children regarding how to make godly decisions."

An independent appraiser's value came back right in the range we had previously come to peace with. We made an offer based on his appraisal and the seller countered considerably higher. We countered again only a smidgen higher than our first offer, right smack at the number we had both arrived at after walking through it the first time (15% lower than his asking price.) An amazing thing happened, he accepted. This is a desirable area/home and a sign never even went up in the yard. We are still in shock.

We honestly would have been happy with either outcome. As we prayed and struggled through this decision I realized the PROCESS, not just the ultimate outcome, was of great concern to God. What was the attitude of our heart? Where were our values? Did we trust Him, even when the facts made our chances look dim? Would we remain diligent in prayer and committed to being a team or get competitive and anxious and try to strategize to get what we wanted? We prayed. We moved slowly. We trusted God.

This is not an earth-shattering story of illness and recovery, being rescued from a mirey pit, or anything of that sort...but it has still been an interesting lesson for us. I am not sure why this was plopped in our laps, but I am extremely grateful. Maybe it is time for this good old house to serve another expanding family. Maybe God has something else in store for our family that necessitates us being in this new place. Only time will tell.

I pray our new home can be used for the the Glory of God, that it will be a place of peace, rest and safety for my family...and that every time we walk through the doors we will be reminded of the character of God, our Jehovah-jireh, Provider.