Here’s a little update of sorts on the traveling Ferguson Family Fiasco. Thank you so much for all of you who have prayed for my family as we finally find our dig-deep-roots home.
Tomorrow is the Big Day.
Tomorrow is the day we sign our names, we move out of my parents, and finally, 4.5 years after we said “I do” move into our dig-deep-roots home. Countless moves, hellos and goodbyes, do-overs and restarts, packing and unpacking all-the-things, and now it is here.
And I want to simultaneously crazy dance all around my new-to-us house and vomit. I’m hoping I only do the first one.
I know I’ve been a little cryptic, lately, with what has been going on with our living situation. And I’m sorry for that. So here’s an update of sorts to make up for it.
God’s Plans are Better
Our Seemingly Perfect Home
Back in June, which now feels like FOREVER ago, we found a house my husband and I really liked. It had brand new hardwood floors, a gorgeous kitchen, a theatre room, and two living areas. This house was in a coveted location within an awesome school district. I wanted this home.
The day we made the offer was the 5 year anniversary of when my husband proposed to me. I couldn’t stop thinking of how awesome God is. He made this day extra special for us. Way to go, God! You rock! Although, I can’t remember praying for guidance or wisdom over this house. We just thanked Him and moved on with the next step.
Each step of trying to purchase this home was one disaster after another — broken septic tank, expensive flood plain insurance, more repairs than we could afford, possibly being sued. At some point, we had to accept that this seemingly perfect home wasn’t for us.
Our Dig-Deep-Roots Home
There was this other house. We were going to look it before, but, you know, the “perfect” house fiasco and all. It was in a small town I hadn’t been to before. But they were having an open house, and we had just found ourselves without a prospective home, living at my parents. So there was that.
As I drove to meet my husband at the open house, I poured my heart out to God. I asked Him to make it SO incredibly obvious that this was our home. Give me a sign, God. Please. We need wisdom and direction. I want a house in which I can make into a home for my family, a place where we can serve others, where we can someday foster children. Lord, make it clear if this is where you want us to be.
I remember tears streaming down my face as I begged God.
Want to know what I found in this house?
Bible verses on the walls. The Lord’s prayer hung up over their dining room table. A blessing over their master bed. Prayers in the kids’ rooms. A prominent display of Jesus in the family room.
I asked for a sign.
And I found reminders of God.
I will dig into how that affected me in the future, but for now, I want to tell you about my new house. I want to tell you about the awesome yard with an even awesome-er playground. Not a swing set. A playground. Simon is going to freak when he sees it.
I want to tell you about how it has four bedrooms. There is finally a place for me to have an office. And how the bedrooms are the perfect size and the closets are numerous. There is plenty of space to foster the littles we so desperately want.
I want to talk about how they are leaving their leather couch and chaise for us. How this house is perfect for hosting get-togethers and Bible studies and small groups and holidays and playdates. And all of the community that I have been longing for.
No, the floors aren’t hardwood. The appliances are basic. The fixtures are construction grade. But this house is absolutely divine.
And it’s soon to be mine — ours.
I thought this was going to be a lesson-less blog post where I just update you on the going-ons of the Fergusons, but it appears I’m incapable of that. I just can’t NOT talk about God’s goodness and grace and mercy. And that when we ask for wisdom and guidance how He always points us back to Jesus and the cross.
Our God is SO good.
And the Fergusons are finally moving into their own home.
Love well, friends.
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