On Friday, the big day of finality, I rode solemnly into town with Kevin. I just needed to get back to that house one more time so I could really "know". I bought some oil, and felt a little like history was repeating itself. I wondered if I was "wasting" yet another day praying over another house that wasn't mine. When I drove in, that strange familiarity came back to me again. It was the same one that came before, which I had shrugged off. I walked through the house quietly with Miss Moonbeam. Every reason I'd told myself before of why it wouldn't work seemed to dismiss itself. There were places for every kid, even though it wasn't like our house. A sizable apartment attached to the garage would work great for the 2 oldest boys. The Archer was in need of a "bachelor pad" anyway. There might not be a basement, but the big 3 car garage would be plenty room enough for all that stuff. Everywhere I looked, everything was nice, new and expensive looking - Hydronically heated laminated cement floors, stainless steel dishwasher and high tech looking oven, custom made wood working, every detail looked impressive, new, well built. The entire upstairs was devoted to a master bedroom that humbled me - Plush carpet, glass doors to a balcony that over looked the river far away, huge lighted closets, double sinks and dressing table in the bathroom - it was almost overwhelming. As I knelt down to pray, images flashed in front of my mind. I could see expectation and happy days. Peace rushed in amongst the visions. There was no doubt that this would be the best place for us. Still, it was out of my hands.
Before doing my thing with the oil, I wandered down to the neighbors to see if I could get some information about the place. I knocked on the door and a man with a suspiciously 80's type rocker look answered, dating him to about my era. He smiled big and invited me inside. A nice older couple sat in the living room quietly. He did most of talking, which really confused me, but it turned out he was another neighbor who was visiting. Between all of them I got all the information I needed about the old owners and permission for our kids to go to the nearby creek any time they wanted. It was such a goldmine of a visit. After pointing out some boundaries to me, rocker man tore off in his Toyota and I climbed back up to the house.
By the time hours had elapsed and it was time to go, I wondered still, how God was going to make it all work out. The price was still far above our range. I had taken to bidding on it based on a trend I saw of price drops from Fannie Mae coupled with a "gut feeling". There was nothing solid to tell me that it would go. I drove back to town, dreading that call from my realtor. Back and forth we'd gone and this was probably it. Long story short, after a lot of calls in town, Fannie Mae, the realtor and the banker worked out a plan and after a weekend of prayer and deliberating..... WE LOCKED IN ON IT!!
So now my question is what should I rename my blog now that I won't be in the Yaak?