I’m in love. With a house. And so is my husband.
After two days of looking at 17 houses, we have found the one of our dreams. This house perfectly fulfills all of our objective criteria, our non-negotiable wish list. But that’s not all. It also has that certain pizazz, that undefinable something that’s purely subjective. It whispered to us that we’d come home. Our realtor said that most people know it’s their house within the first 30 seconds. She could tell I was smitten when we pulled up in front. As soon as we opened the door, I had fallen in love. Steve and I left our realtor with a plan to meet back the next day, hopefully with a decision. We talked for about five minutes, prayed for another five minutes, and called her back immediately with our choice. We asked the house’s parents for her hand in marriage, drew up our pre-nuptial contract, offered our dowry, and are anxiously awaiting their answer. If they say "yes," we’ll have a five-month engagement before we walk down the aisle.
I never expected we would make a decision that quickly. We asked God to give us one heart and one mind, and He certainly did. Last summer, on an exploratory trip to North Carolina, we found our town on the very last day and it was love at first sight. And then the very day we arrived this weekend, our betrothed house came back on the market, at a huge reduction. In buying this house, we can be a blessing to a dear elderly couple, obviously believers by the Christian books filling their home, who need to move into assisted living because of cancer. Our prayers are being answered at the same time that they are also being provided for. If that’s not a God thing, I don’t know what is.