The Story of My Little Old House

A little under two years ago, I began looking for a house. I was in love, soon to be engaged, and planning for my new life to begin. We wanted a June wedding, and my hope was to be able to move in to our new home together once we were married. But that meant we were on a tight schedule, in a housing market that was competitive for buyers.

Our first few outings with the realtor felt surreal. We had a lot of fun looking at different houses to get a feel for our options. The first house we loved was tiny, but charming. Within our budget, right next to a great trail, walking distance to some delightful restaurants. We placed an offer and were outbid by a lot. My husband and I were dumbfounded. How we were going to find a house if we get outbid by 25K on the tiniest house we’ve ever seen?

It went like that for a few months. Meeting with the realtor, seeing some really weird houses that seemed absurdly expensive, finding one we could see ourselves living in only to be outbid at every turn. We considered looking for apartments, but compared to our estimated interest rate, an apartment would cost double what we’d spend monthly on a house. And I’d spent years saving for my dream of owning my own home. Now that I had someone to share that dream with, I wanted it even more. Plus, I knew we’d want to start a family fairly soon, so it just seemed like the best time was now.

But the market was so competitive. If a house was within our budget and not gone immediately, there was something wrong with it. Foundation issues, weird layouts, terrible neighborhoods. Investors bought those ones up too. One house had shag carpets on the walls. Another was so close to the highway that you could hear the nearby hum and zoom of every car on the road. As the weather got better, houses sold faster. Connor and I were at a loss.

My grandmother, who has since passed, messaged me on Facebook a lot to see how things were going. I know what you’re thinking, but she was probably more tech savvy than I am. She always used FB messenger. I was two and a half months away from my wedding, and still we’d not found a house. She asked me if we’d been praying about it. I said yes. She said she had one more suggestion. “It might be goofy, but in my experience it works,” she told me. “You and Connor should sit down with pen and paper, write a letter to the Lord and tell him what you are both wanting in your house.”

Today I was cleaning out my Notes app due to a decluttering challenge on Instagram (LOL), and I found the “letter” Connor and I wrote to God based on my grandma’s advice. My husband lived with a bunch of messy dudes, so we couldn’t find a pen, so I typed it up on my phone and we prayed about it together. Then we waited. Here is the letter:

Dear Lord,

We would like a house with 3 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, in a safe neighborhood. We would like it to have a good roof and gutters, working appliances, and finished hardwood floors. A nice full kitchen with space to host people. We pray that it is in our budget, and will be easy to sell when you call us elsewhere. We pray that there will be good neighbors, that we could witness to and take care of each other. That it will be ready by the time we need so that we can start our married lives together in a house of our own. We know You brought us together, and we trust You to take care of our living situation.


Two weeks later, exactly two months before our wedding date, we had an offer accepted on our current home. It has three bedrooms, two FULL bathrooms, a two car garage, finished hardwood floors, a good roof (no gutters though), a tiny kitchen (but a large dining room with ample space for hosting). It was also well within our budget, the owner introduced us to all his wonderful neighbors himself, and we were able to close on the house before our wedding date.

My husband was able to move in before our wedding and get the house ready for us to live in. He got bids for gutters, set up our bedroom, kept the lawn mowed, and tried to find places for all our wedding gifts. Although I’ll admit I did most of the arranging once I moved in.

me, 9 months pregnant, standing in front of our beautiful little house

Did our “letter” to God magically make a house appear for us to buy? Did it convince God to look down on us with special favor? I don’t think so. I think God is good and gracious and blesses His children for no reason at all sometimes. What I do know is that finding the letter reminded me of God’s faithfulness. Finding the letter reminded me of what a blessing our house is. I get to see a tangible reminder of how God answered my prayers in that chaotic season before I married my sweetheart.

I’ve used my grandmother’s advice quite a few times since that house hunt. In our car troubles, in my prayers for labor (in my first pregnancy and this one). Not only does it help me be intentional about trusting God with the desires of my heart, but it lets me look back and see how He worked in each of them.

If I had written down every prayer I’ve ever prayed, I’d have a paper trail of God’s goodness. I’d see my expectations change, see my heart let go of things I didn’t need, see God working in all of it, giving me the things that are truly good. I’d see Him holding me in my heartbreak, and the rays of sunlight as He built my faith to help me heal. My prayers of paper and pen are a testament to His goodness, and a reminder that where I once was lacking, God came through.


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