“People like to read about miracles.” That’s what I was told as I was beginning to write a book. I’m going to tell you about what might be a miracle, but it actually might be something even more significant than a miracle.
We had lived in parsonages for thirty-one years; a parsonage is a church owned home for which we did not have to pay rent. It was very helpful for us across the years to live in a parsonage, but there’s no equity accumulating, nor a place to go when pastoral ministry concludes.
“Why look for houses when we cannot afford one?” That was our thinking for a very long time. One President’s Day holiday away with my wife, my spirit was thoroughly stirred. I came to the place of saying, “I’m not willing to not think about this subject.”
So we pursued house purchase. Remarkably to us, it became possible. On the evening we received our keys both the selling and purchasing realtors were present. The selling realtor told us that there were at least ten offers on the house, that strangely the attending bank agent told him that he should choose which offer to accept, and then he said, “Your offer was not the highest.”
When the realtors left my wife and I got on our knees in the living room and gave thanks. Miracle? Perhaps, but expecting God to intervene as we move ahead in His purposes is more likely our daily call and privilege.