“Pray for a house” –
the thought lightly flited to mind as I drove home from a late night shift.
“Okay, God”,
I thought & assumed it referred to my then present circumstance, for, at the time, I was dating a man with two kids.
However, two months later, the relationship ended & so I inquired of God,
“Do you still say, pray for a home?”
and the leading was,
“Yes, keep moving”….
but, could I even afford such a financial adventure? I hadn’t been saving intentionally for years… it seemed unlikely.
I met with several lenders, tabulated financial sheets and time-lined just how many extra late-nights of work this would require… finding it to be surprisingly obtainable, though still, gently, a reach.
Well, seven months later into newly decided me, I had…
–> since experienced two failed offers (competing against all cash developers & rental income investors was a TOUGH crowd to beat!),
–> viewed some 30+ houses (a HUGE thank you to my ever-patient realtor)
–> and enlisted in countless shifts performed (sometimes pulling 120+ hrs in ten day frame) …
and I found myself emotionally spent, mentally QueStioNing & principally frustrated…
WAS THERE SOMETHING I WAS MISSING??!
The journey I had anticipated,
the promise of the prayer,
had not landed at my doorstep.
I remember questioning God, questioning my ability to hear God and then re-calling on His name – ultimately, deciding to surrender the search…
and oddly enough, I found peace in letting it be.
Two weeks prior to the surrender, the beginning of June 2019, a fortune cookie, I broke into two while dining at Pei Wei… and it read:
“Look forward to a great fortune and a new lease on life!”,
with the words,
“July”
stamped on its back surface.
I laughed,
“Jokes on you, you mass-produced cookie…”
but pocketed it away.
Just one week later…
June 14th, 2019
I’m driving homeward and an email dings through my phone… it’s 4:30 pm, on a Friday afternoon, my Momma’s birth-day as a matter of fact, & oops! I’m late to her dinner.
I pop open the link and see a highlighted home… that upon zoom-in on Zillow, sits imagery of a 1924 gingerbread-character piece…
on the right sized lot…
in the right-side of town…
with the perfect price point …
and my numbed curiosity got the better of me, my thumbs clicking out “send”, an email, to my realtor and moments later, “Hey, girl – what a GEM“. “Let me see what I can do”, and I causally soft-bumped threw my phone down into the passenger seat,
fully ready to be disappointed as all the times before.
For a little extra: as the story goes… the former owners of my home, had flown out on vacation, called their friend/relator that June 14th day & said, “Hey, list our place, pack everything into the garage and see what comes by – we’re moving!” … I’m sure there’s more to the story but, this was the version I received.
So, it’s an hour later and I’m at Momma’s birthday dinner, when “ping” – “Hey girl, meet me in 30 minutes, we can walk the house“, my realtor confirms.
All of us, cartons and hot food unwrapped, left it all on the table, piling into two cars
– my sister, my aunt, my mother, my father –
and headed for a quick field trip to this Zillow-listed place, several miles down the street. We were the first (& only) persons to view the space,
this perfect price – perfect location – perfectly charming
character piece of property, that had unexpectedly come up.
It’s now 30 min after its listing & an only a short hour after its initial email debut…
and we, all walking the place, unanimously agreed…
this was undoubtedly, now, the home to beat.
A quickly scripted offer, written within the next hour…
and four hours later, one missed call & several big bold texts from my realtor:
“CONGRATULATIONS- where are you, WE GOT THE HOUSE… call me?!”.
I near dropped the phone in disbelief.
Just like that… no questions asked, no negations back (I did make a heck of an offer) and no, “let’s wait to see what other bids come by the by“, and that Friday night, in the setting, situation or company of others that I would have never have scripted this moment to be,
I stood, suddenly, a Homeowner.
But wait – it gets better…
See, my lender, he had called – one day prior to this Brookside Tulsa find –
“Richelle, interest rates are at an all-time low and I want to lock you in”, he said.
I, at that time, on the surrendered-dream kick then replied,
“Well, alright, pencil me in”
but, internally sighed, “Eh, it’s not meant to be” … and hung up the phone, forgetting to ask what the number had come to be.
So, imagine my surprise, to be phoning my lender the next morning after, with a,
“Hey, about that rate… I’ve found a house, what was the percentage? Ha-ha, I know, how crazy…”.
“We locked you in at 3.8%”, he replied & I raised my eyebrows in wonder… because the number, exact, down to its decimal, was the price I had cheekily fleeced before God, several months prior,
“if this house is really meant to be” –
when I had started this home-search journey (and for context, interest rates used to be 4.625%).
But wait – it gets better still…
The owners didn’t counter, in fact, they didn’t (as I’m told) entertain any other offers & threw in all the appliances, (huh? that easy?) … thankfully!
AND the miracle of MORE was that not ONE item on my wish list was compromised in the purchase of this house… in fact, the home contained abundantly all, BEYOND, what I thought I financially could achieve.
The deets of this place:
- it’s a two bed, one bath
- hosts a fully enclosed front of the home, sunroom
- with a decadent backyard entertaining-porch
- and a grass-filled yard large enough to still toss a ball (or need mowing, however you see it 😉 )
- contains a two car-garage (which in this part of town, even a one-car slot for this age of home, was difficult to find)…
- and a basement that can function both as additional storage space and a storm shelter (which, is all bells and whistles, cherry-on-top for this NY-raised girl who’s still not used to Oklahoma storms).
Furthermore… in the process of moving:
I didn’t pay a single dollar for packing supplies (not a strip of packing tape nor a sheet of pop-bubble wrap did I spend a cent) as I had people randomly gift them to me –
My parents and a friend packed my entire apartment in under one night (as I’d come down horribly sick the week of move date) –
I didn’t pay a dime for moving fees (a group of college guys lifted and moved in two hours flat, unwilling to accept any form of payment or change) –
and in the homeownership process ever since:
every item of furniture, need for upkeep (like electrical re-wiring) and neighbor kindness, has come with some type of discount, free-gifting or abundance of relational building –
This land has continually overwhelmed me.
The inspectors looked at me several days later and quote said,
“This place was built to last, you just don’t see craftsmanship like this anymore. What a rare find, my dear. Not a thing is out of tact, it’s as if you and this space were meant to be”
(he, having no clue to my background story).
Though the transactions, later, I then learned…
(CAN YOU BELIEVE there’s MORE??)
… the home contained a legacy…
for its first owner (whom was also the original builder) had lived in this 1924 born space for 50+ years, before then gifting it next to his son… and, spread several years in between, its next two subsequent buyers were each an unmarried women who, while inhabiting the place, each married their man, only to move out after each leading lady had two kids a piece.
I was thus,
the THIRD sequential single (at that time) FeMAle-owner of this 1924, almost centennial, piece.
So.
This is the miraculous story of my home and how following the leading of
“pray for a house”,
(with no further instructions, I might add!), turned out to be.
It’s my WHY behind honoring & highlighting this pretty little 97-year old place…
it’s frame & structure standing as a hand-picked, visible, tangible, reminder to me…
that our God is a good God, capable of giving EXTRA abundantly good gifts…
and He, is the better man,
being one who backs His every promise to us,
when we choose to simply trust & still BELIEVE.
