To The Next Chapter
Well, friends, it's been a long time since I've written on here, but for those of you who know us well and have journeyed alongside us, it's time to bring you in on what's been happening...
Back in October of 2022, I wrote about the dream Micah and I had to create a space for couples needing to step out of life's currents, especially when living with chronic illness or disability, to reconnect and recharge. It was a dream that had already been several years in the making, gradually taking shape in our hearts and minds as we committed to praying about it daily. We hoped that one day, God would give us the opportunity to actually do this thing we'd been dreaming about for so long!
Fast forward more years than we anticipated. Good years, hard years. My health, which had been at a low point at the time, has leveled out for the time being. Our kids have grown into teenagers. We've survived one of the hardest years of our lives as a family (and someday, we hope to share that story too).
We've always kept one eye on the real estate market as we've prayed, but in the past few months something began to stir in our hearts. We hesitated at first, sure this was the wrong time to move forward in this venture. Henry will be leaving home after next year, we're heading into winter in the Midwest, and, as I said, we've just come through an impossibly challenging year, the ramifications of which we're still feeling. Surely it couldn't be the right time.
And yet...
We felt God nudging us to start looking more seriously. Henry's impending graduation means we only have a small window to make this move as a family and create memories together in a new home. None of our kids really remember the transition of moving to our current home, and all tend to struggle with change. This was a chance to navigate change with them, to walk them through the uncomfortable spaces, the grief, and the unsettling realities of change--together. It also presented the opportunity for a fresh start, a clean break from all that this past painful year held. As unlikely as it seemed, we felt a growing conviction that it was time.
We went to a handful of open houses. We watched the market more closely and reached out to a friend and realtor to start setting up some showings. Our potential properties were scattered all over the region with some very specific criteria. Among them, allowing the kids to remain at their current schools, the ability for me to live on one level without having to navigate stairs, being as close as possible to both sets of parents (and no farther), and some entertaining space--ideally a barn or outbuilding where we could host dinners and events. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it had to have potential for a space where couples could escape together to reconnect. Hospitality and a passion for marriages were at the core of all of this.
We booked three showings, each vastly different and potentially workable in unique ways. Two of them were practical homes that afforded land or usable space. The third was honestly just a whim, a gorgeous brick farmhouse that was so lovely, we couldn't resist the chance to walk through. We expected to go and admire the architecture, but quickly rule it out as an option.
I think you know where this is going...
We fell in love. Not only with the beauty of the home (it is beautiful!), but with how very practical it actually was for our purposes! It had bedroom(s) and bathrooms on the main floor, so I could live easily during my periods of poor health. It had ample entertaining space (in gorgeous rooms with high ceilings and tall windows) for hosting company, including the kids and their families one day. It had a charming historic barn and stable block, both of which were brimming with potential. It had four additional bedrooms--far more than we ever thought to consider--where we could create spaces for each of the kids now, and endless space for hosting guests in the future. All of the major updates had been done in recent years and it was move-in ready. It had an acre of land in the city, more than enough, yet still in the urban setting we've loved. And it had a newer addition that was all but made to be a guest space, with its own entrance, bathroom, patio area, and fireplace. In fact, we could begin to rent it out to people now as a potential rental, something we'd started contemplating doing here and there as we'd dreamed.
As Micah said, it was not only the "pie-in-the-sky" option, it was the practical one.
We did some serious soul-searching and praying over the next couple of days. We struggled, because this dream of ours had always been about other people: space for the kids, proximity to parents, room to entertain, space for couples. We'd expected to find a home that was "just enough" for us, in order to leverage the rest of the property for others. And we were excited about that prospect!
Yet here was something completely different. Something that was so vastly beyond what we would have expected or hoped for. Something that matched the "desires of our heart," as Henry likes to say, even down to the details. For as many years as we've known each other, if you asked Micah or me to describe our dream home, it would include three things: red brick, a front porch, and a fireplace. You guessed right. This one had all three.
As we wrestled through our decision about the house, I sat down to journal. I wrote about all the different ways this house would not only meet our criteria, but blow it out of the water. One word came to mind as I wrote: abundance.
That word cut straight to the heart.
Almost a year ago, in the thick of things, we were crying out to God. We'd been living on just our daily bread--sometimes barely that--and struggling to get through that season. As we prayed each morning for just enough to get through that day, we both independently felt God nudging us, "Ask me for abundance." It ran counter to both our natures and it felt selfish. But we couldn't get away from it. So, feeling a little sheepish, we both began to pray. Over the next months, God led us to verse after verse that spoke about the promise of His abundance, and we began to wait for it, even to expect it. We didn't know how it would look (we assumed it would be acres of property or something along those lines), but we asked Him to provide it in the right time.
And now here we were, contemplating this house that was beyond a dream house, so much more than we had envisioned or hoped for. And the word He gave me was abundance. An abundance of space, of potential, of practicality. But also of straight-up joy, as though He delighted in offering us the gift of a house like this.
We took a step of faith and asked our realtor for a second showing so we could take the kids to see it. They had mixed feelings about the prospect, if I'm honest. They've known this was our dream for as many years as we've had it, and we've brought them along as we've journeyed with God. But they also love our current house and neighborhood (as do we) and were somewhat resistant to the idea of change in general. Two of the three had been openly against the other properties we'd looked at, but found they actually did like this one on paper. One was ready to move the next day, if possible. Another felt God had told them this time was different, this house was a "yes." The last one liked the house, but struggled with not wanting to leave "home," especially after all that had happened in the past year.
We worried that this was the wrong decision, that we were pushing too hard or getting ahead of God. We brought it to His feet again, and again felt confirmation through our devotions, prayer, and the wisdom of others. We had to at least go for a second showing.
The day before the showing, our realtor let us know that there was other serious interest in the house--which begged the question, had we gotten pre-approved yet for a mortgage? We hadn't, mostly because we hadn't expected to find a house that worked for us so quickly! Our realtor connected us with a lender she'd worked with and we scrambled to get an application submitted, then reached out to a few people who'd been faithfully praying us through the steps to ask them to pray for a miracle.
We had our pre-approval in hand within sixteen hours, just before the showing.
When we got to the property, the kids tumbled out of the car and straight into the barn. They fell in love instantly, clambering up the ladder to explore the loft, then investigating the historic stable block. When we finally dragged them inside, they were equally taken with the house itself. For the next hour or two, they roamed the rooms pointing out things they liked, picking out each of their rooms, and making plans for the different things they would do in the spaces. There was some sadness in the car on the ride home as they wrestled with how much they'd loved the property and the reality of leaving ours, but their reactions exceeded what we'd hoped for.
So we were back to contemplating what to do next.
We decided to take a night to sleep on it, praying we'd have clarity the next morning. But the next morning came, and we were no more sure of our decision. We both went about getting ready for the day, sitting down to our devotions.
I spent some time laying out all my fears to God: that this house was too big, too historic, too much, too selfish. That it was the wrong time to do this, that it was pushing the kids too hard, that we were being unwise. That we wouldn't be able to get the house at all, that we couldn't use the space for others as we hoped. I went on and on, laying it all out before Him. Then I turned to Isaiah, landing almost by accident on the passage I'd read nearly a year before, in the thick of our dark season. I'd written in the margin about how we'd been living in the desert, subsisting on daily bread, and how we'd begun to ask God for streams in the wilderness. For abundance.
Then I read the passage next to my note, which began, "See, I am doing a new thing. Do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
I went on, reading the verses I'd highlighted in the pages ahead. Over and over, they spoke, "Don't be afraid, I will provide." Finally, I got to the next chapter, in which God promised, "I will pour out my Spirit on your children and my blessing on your descendants. They will spring up like grass in a meadow, like poplar trees by flowing streams." Not only that, but the passage goes on to list three (three!) different ways each of those descendants will identify themselves with God.
Yes, I cried.
Micah's devotions spoke about our response to the story God is writing in our lives. It shared Mary's response to the angel's announcement, her quick acceptance of what God was doing, and asked whether we are as quick to recognize and embrace what God is doing in our own lives. His time closed with the story of the women at Jesus' tomb after His resurrection, and how they were "terrified, yet filled with joy."
He told me, "If that doesn't sum up this experience, I don't know what does. Terrified, yet filled with joy."
In those moments, and several other moments throughout the day, God made it abundantly clear what we should do: step forward and trust Him.
We took the next leap of faith, letting our realtor know we wanted to make an offer, contingent on sale of our house and getting approval from the city to develop spaces for couples to get away.
With the holidays, it was the next morning before she was able to get the paperwork ready. Meanwhile, we packed everyone up and headed to my parents' house for Christmas. We were partway through opening gifts when I got a text asking me to call her. I stepped into the other room while Micah filled our siblings in on what had been happening. Our kids spent the rest of the day talking excitedly about the house and all their hopes and dreams for it. As our most-reluctant kid told me at the end of the day, "Talking about it today with family and getting excited helped." That, in itself, was a mountain moved.
Our realtor told me she'd reached out to the lender to determine how best to word the contingency about land use, since she wanted to make a strong offer to the sellers and didn't want to jeopardize funding from underwriters. She laid out the options: proceed with the offer as we'd planned, wait until we could get approval from the city before offering, or move forward without that contingency. I asked for a few minutes to talk things over with Micah.
As we talked, we came to the conclusion that, in its inception, this dream was about having space to give to others. In other words, it would be used almost like a guest room--and we didn't need the city's permission in any way for that. We knew our answer immediately: we would remove the contingency and step forward in faith, trusting that if we needed to develop something in the future, God would make a way.
We gave our realtor our answer, then I wrapped my arms around Micah and prayed, "Lord, we're trusting You." He added his 'amen.'
As soon as the decision was made, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. God had taken us through all the various iterations of this dream that we'd entertained all these years, back to the heart of what we first wanted: to be provided with a space we could offer back to Him. It was absolutely the right decision.
There was another showing at the house that evening around 5:30 pm. At about 6:05 pm, though, we got a text stating the sellers countered with a minor change and accepted our offer!
We were floored. Not only had we not expected to get a "yes" to a contingent offer, but we hadn't expected to hear so quickly!
As a condition of our offer, we have 15 days to list our current house, and 30 days total to sell. It was the best way to make our offer competitive, and our realtor, who primarily sells homes in our area, feels it is doable.
The intervening few days have been an absolute flurry of last-minute home repairs, de-personalizing our spaces, packing, cleaning, and working through all the rollercoaster of emotions we're all experiencing. I was intentional about taking time to rest and just be present over Christmas, but we also have a ticking clock in the back of our minds with each passing day (27 days and counting as of today!). Our goal is to get our home listed as soon as possible to maximize our chance of selling.
That's where we are now, in the in-between, not-quite-finished space of this journey. The house is an absolute disaster, filled with partially-packed boxes and empty walls, feeling less and less like the home we've loved and lived in for almost a decade. At the same time, we're living with hopeful expectation. We don't know how the story will end or whether we really will get to call this beautiful old farmhouse "home." But we do know the God who's brought us this far, and He's never let us down yet. Whenever the to-do list overwhelms me or my anxieties start to rise, I remember the places where He's anchored us in this journey and given us His assurance that this is the right path. We'll keep trusting Him with every step of the way.
After all, this was His dream long before it was ours.
