Ebenezer Series: A House in the Country

Acknowledging God’s magnificent hand in my

otherwise ordinary life

My first apartment--My roommate and I rented 1/3 of this house.

My first apartment–My roommate and I rented 1/3 of this house.

The lease on my apartment was drawing to a close and my landlord needed a definite answer on whether I would be renewing it or not. With no roommate in the picture, I finally conceded and prepared to pack up my things, with, at that point, no idea where I would be unpacking them.

My parents graciously offered my old room and let me know I was welcome to come back home, but that was so hard for me to swallow. Although no one was probably paying close enough attention to my life to even notice such a move, to me it screamed “FAILURE” and I fought against the thought of it tooth and nail.

As the days of my lease ticked away, I began to get depressed. One evening I attended a church event—a mother/daughter tea with my mother—putting on a smile while turmoil raged within me. I spent that night at my parents’ in my brother’s old room and lay awake in bed for hours contemplating my next step.

I had a wonderfully simple and blessed life, yet I was sinking lower and lower and thoughts of ending the frustration started to take over. There were so many unknowns in my future and I felt like things would never work out the way I hoped they would. I wanted to be on my own, heading toward marriage and a family, but none of that was in my immediate future as far as I could tell. What if it never came–and everyone saw me as a failure, and I was already almost 24! {laughable now, but an old maid in my mindset then}

I have had other dark nights, but I must admit, that was my darkest. Desperation was speaking loud to me and canceling out the Voice of Truth for which I have now learned to listen. Thankfully, God saw me through that night with no harm done, but I will never forget it, and to this day, thank Him for saving me from my foolish self. Oh, the things I would have missed had I called it quits then. The heartache I would have caused and the lack of faith in my God that I would have shown.

My dad had spoken to me about a viable option, but it had no immediate appeal. He was working for a local friend and farmer who owned a second house in which he usually allowed his hired help to live. Since my dad was his current hired help, and obviously didn’t need to live in that house, maybe I would be able to live there.

I had no desire to move back to the country and live in a big old farmhouse, but “sure,” I said, and gave my dad permission to inquire about it.

And he was given the green light. No problem.

Moving Day

Moving Day

I still fought it and hoped something else would turn up. It was already the 11th hour though, and moving day came. Once again, my family came through for me and loaded up everything from my apartment and delivered it to my new abode—the farmhouse in the country—and because I had no other choice, my heart began to soften toward my new lodging situation.

The Farmhouse

The Farmhouse

No, it wasn’t in town and I once again had a commute to work {not a traffic-packed commute, just a country drive}, but my co-worker at the newspaper offered to swing by and pick me up on the days that I worked there. So that saved on gas money and made the ride more enjoyable.

The whole place was mine to fill up and decorate as I chose–and that was pretty exciting–although I didn’t own that much. No kitchen appliances were included, but within a few days we found used ones at a good price and my parents delivered them to my home. A friend needed someone to “store” her washing machine and I volunteered for that job. I think we picked up a dryer for free.

My little pup, Booker, who was included with the purchase of my refrigerator. He lived on my parents' farm.

An extra bonus: My little pup, Booker, who was included with the purchase of my refrigerator! He went to live on my parents’ farm, since I wasn’t around enough to give him the attention he needed.

The entire living area of my previous apartment probably would have fit into this house’s kitchen and dining area. It had a closed-in porch, a huge closet area, living room, 4 {yes, 4!} bedrooms upstairs, an attached garage {Are you kidding me? No one in my family lived with that kind of luxury!}  and my favorite room—a little hardwood-floored area off the living room that I turned into my studio. Looking out the windows of that room, I could watch horses running and grazing peacefully in the pasture, which was closed off with a white wooden fence.  I began to fall in love with the place.

My studio

My studio


My Studio 2Oh, and did I mention, it was rent-free? I just needed to pay the utility bills. Place humungous Ebenezer stone right here.

How could I have resisted such a gift?

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