GREEN-LIGHT revolution

This time last year, I was on the hunt for a house. Looking up listing in my spare time, driving by houses every day after work, cruising through neighborhoods to get a feel for where I might want to live. During this period of time, I noticed some parallels between spouse hunting (if you’ll pardon the term) and house hunting, and during a particularly disappointing phase, I sensed God speaking to me through the one about the other.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Would you like to hear the story?

Well, okay then, here goes.

Last April, I saw a listing for an adorable brick house. It had wood floors, a fireplace, 3 bedrooms, a garage, and a partial basement. And because it was a foreclosure, the price was smackdab in the middle of my price range--an incredible, unbelievable bargain! All the things I was looking for in a house at the right price at the right time in the right neighborhood. Surely this was God’s will for me. It was too perfect NOT to be from him.

My dad drove to Joplin to look at the house with me. As we ate dinner together after the walk-through, we discussed all the things I liked about the house and I tried to think of something I didn’t like about it. I couldn’t. I called my realtor that night and made an offer. I knew this was the house for me, so I offered the listing price. If you’ve never bought a house before, you might not know that buyers hardly ever offer the list price on a home--you’re supposed to bid low and negotiate. I, however, wanted to make an offer the seller couldn’t refuse. By the end of the week I’d be a homeowner, my realtor and loan officer assured me. It was practically a given.

But it wasn’t. I waited and waited to hear back from the realtor. Finally, I learned that there were two other offers being considered. One was off the table, and now mine and the other offer were being discussed. I waited and prayed. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. I drove by the house every day and thought about what it would be like to live there. On the other side of the backyard fence there was an alley, and on the other side of the alley, there was a Mexican restaurant. I remember thinking, “Wow, this is great! I love the smell of Mexican food! When this house is mine, I’ll smell tortilla chips every day.” Oddly enough, I even liked things about this house that weren’t all that likable and that might be annoying someday.

Finally, the news came. I was at a wedding rehearsal dinner and noticed that there was a voicemail on my phone. I hopped out of my chair and quickly made my way out of the nosy dining area to the coat room, anxious for news about my house. The message was from my realtor! But her tone gave away the news before her words did. The house had been sold to the other buyer. It wasn’t going to be mine. Someone else would make it their home. My heart sank. I found an empty restroom, shut the bathroom stall door, and cried quietly for a while. Then I wiped my eyes and prayed, “Lord, I still trust you.” I was heart-broken, but I meant that prayer.

To be continued....

Going green!

Lynn Fleshman