G’s House

Our house on Bershire fit us like a pair of tight jeans after an all you can eat buffet. We needed breathing room, but with our mess, if we wanted a bigger house we would have to buy a new house before selling the old.  It made my husband and I both nervous, but we tentatively stepped out into the housing market.

A month later, we put in a low offer on a tree laden house that was just right and they surprised us by taking it. We would soon be the proud owners of two houses, two electric bills, and two nervous hearts! What were we thinking? We were the couple who ordered water at restaurants and wore holey underwear to save money?

At this point, I knew, intellectually, that if God wanted us to move it would be ok, but trusting his provision felt like diving off a cliff into unknown waters. 

The day of packing, a neighbor came over to chat and share good news. “We sold our house to a couple paying cash,” Farrine said. They had thought they found the perfect house, but air conditioner trouble had caused them to back out.

“I’m not sure where we’re going to live,” Farrine said, explaining that they couldn’t find another house in time.

Without thinking the words tumbled out of my mouth. “You can live in our house.  It’ll be empty soon,” I said.

And so, a few weeks later, as our boxes of toddler toys moved out, their boxes of girl paraphernalia moved in.  In the meantime I still worried about the money siphon of owning two houses.

About a month later the Pico’s found another house and once again boxes were starting to be packed at our house on Bershire. It was then another friend stopped by our new house to get moving boxes.

Their house had been on the market for “too long,” but had finally sold. Coral had found a house her family really liked, but it was being built.  “The house won’t be ready in time,” Coral explained. 

Again the words tumbled out, “You can live in our house until your house is ready,” I said.  “The Pico’s are moving out.”

And so as the Pico’s boxes moved out and the Toleman’s boxes moved in.  It was then that all my worries about financial loss evaporated.  Clearly God was using our house and when He was done, it would sell.

A month later, when the Toleman’s got ready to move out, I wondered what God would do next? The phone rang and it was our realtor.  “We have an offer on the house and for more money than you have it on the market for,” he said. 

I laughed as I realized God was speaking directly to all my worries and anxieties saying, “Trust Me.”

Our neighbors called our one story house on Bershire the Gypsy house, but  I prefer another name: “God’s House.”