I was suddenly, vividly awake. The early morning light filtered in through the windows. The entire house was still and quiet and beautiful. It was as though I heard a whisper: “Come, see what I have created for you.”
With all the eagerness of a child on Christmas morning, I dressed and snatched my notebook before I scurried outside in the cool morning air. A gentle fog weaved through the trees on the other side of the valley. Birds were everywhere! Hummingbirds flitted around the gazebo where I sat. In the nearby garden, a dozen or more birds argued over the remnants of Colby’s vegetable smash-fest the day before. Down the hillside, near the barn, a larger animal rustled in the bush. A deer? Perhaps. It was too shy to make an appearance.
I drank in the cold morning air and sighed. It was the first time in weeks that I had felt truly rested. The last four months have been difficult, to say the least. Now that we were settling into our new home – our first home that we actually bought – the sacrifices all seemed so small compared to the blessings.
Just a few days before, I had boasted that I could see the fingerprints of God in every aspect of our move. I realized there, as I sat in my gazebo and watched the wildlife enjoy the morning, that I had been absolutely wrong.
I wasn’t seeing fingerprints.
I was seeing handprints.
This move, like our entire lives, wasn’t something that God was touching lightly. He didn’t poke it here and there to move it in the right direction. He was there, every step of the way, carrying us through and guiding us toward what was best. We were cradled in His hands. Held tightly. Loved dearly. Blessed abundantly.
Even the moments that looked like chaos over the last few months were evidence of His abundant mercy and His ultimate master plan. Even the moments that seemed like mistakes or absolute disasters – and oh, there were so many! – were blessings in disguise.
And every single moment of it worked out for our good.
Because God is good.
So, so, so good.
Our journey home started in late August. We looked at every house listing we could find in western Washington and narrowed our search to four possible homes.
This house didn’t even make the list.
However, the house next door did. The listing almost perfect – a beautiful view, a wrap-around porch and five spacious bedrooms at the perfect price. As we drove up the twisty valley road, our realtor just happened to turn one driveway too soon. While we looked over the fence at the property we intended to view, a kind gentleman wandered over and announced that his home was also for sale, for the same price. He encouraged us to come take a look.
So we did.
And everything changed.
As we wandered through the home, I had mixed feelings. It was absolutely beautiful, but it was a bit smaller than I had hoped for so I was still set on looking at the five bedroom home next door. Because I was so sure that the house next door was the one, I honestly didn’t take our walk-through too seriously.
Of course, that changed when we actually made it to our destination and discovered that the listing agent had made a mistake. The home I was so sure was right had only four bedrooms, no obvious master suite and a visibly slanted floor.
As we embarked on the hour-long drive back to our rental home, David and I were sure of one thing: Heavenly Father had led us home. We jokingly referred to our home as the “accidental house,” since we had just stumbled upon it. In hindsight, though, I know there was nothing accidental about it. It was all part of His plan – the best plan – for us.
From the moment we found the house to the moment we were able to get our keys a few days early, the providence of God was evident in every aspect of this move. Despite all of our challenges, every single thing fell into place perfectly with amazing results. And so, as I write this from the comfort of my new living room, I am overcome and amazed and humbled and overwhelmed by the absolute grace, mercy and love of God.