Facebook memories have a nice way of keeping track of things I’ve forgotten, as well as helping me remember how time sure does fly. I was reminded recently I’ve been in my current home for 8 years. I thought it had been 5! I then found this piece I wrote about buying my house on faith when all of my “reality checks” said not to. A true story of serendipity and what happens when you listen to your heart, your intuition, when you need guidance the most.
I stared at the lined paper with numbers scratch written all over it. The numbers at the bottom stuck out like they were written in fluorescent permanent marker. Negative. One big negative. My hope sunk.
On paper my income would not cover my monthly expenses. I could not afford to buy the house I was living in and yet I promised my children I would. And more importantly, they believed me. I had moved into the house with my children and my husband only four months prior and it had been nonstop chaos since. Due to an error on the house owner’s paperwork, the house we were scheduled to buy was no longer available to us unless we bought it through a short sale. If you know anything about a short sale, they are anything but short.
Fortunately we were able to move into the house and wait out the process while living there. Unfortunately, three months into living in the home, my husband and I decided to separate. This was not part of the plan.
In an emotional moment of our new reality, one of my children cried “I don’t want to move again.” It was as if their words were aimed directly at my heart. I responded without hesitation, “You won’t move. I will buy you this house.” And I meant it.
The moving process had been stressful. The arguing between my husband and I continuous. I moved them into the house the very first week of school. I knew more change would be too much. I was determined that it would happen and I would make it work.
I was full of faith. Until I looked at the numbers on the piece of paper which implied- I was seriously mistaken.
I melted into a mild depression. I could not understand why my heart felt so strongly I could buy the house, but my head looked at my heart like it lived in a universe far away from reality. What was I thinking? At the end of the day the answers were in black and white. I was not going to be able to make it work.
Not only did I not have the down payment required to keep my monthly cost lower, I did not have the income to manage the monthly expenses of life itself. The disappointment I felt in myself and my situation was heart wrenching. The stress of my impending legal separation, finagling how I would survive financially and the massive amount of grief I felt as it seemed my entire life was falling apart was a lot to endure.
And yet, the answer to stay couldn’t have felt more right. I distinctly remember looking out my bedroom window one evening at the beautiful view from my house on the hill and thinking…”I’ve come here to heal.” I didn’t even know what that meant.
It turns out, it meant I would spend many months ahead ruminating over my choices. Wondering if I was truly making the best decisions for my family. Letting my heart speak to my head and compassionately tell it we would be okay. And then dissolving into myself in fear wondering if I was in fact, losing my mind.
I spent the next 9 months not knowing what was going to happen next. My husband moved out and bought a home. I paid my rent each month and prayed the following month would be the same. I had no real idea if the short sale would even go through and if I would even be able to afford it. The numbers on the paper were not budging.
I inherited some stock from my grandmother when she passed. I planned on cashing it in for the down payment, but it would still be nowhere enough. I cashed in savings bonds from the year of my birth. I scraped any savings I had. It looked like I may have just had enough. Maybe I could really do this.
And then it was official. The short sale was approved. I would be able to buy the house if I could come up with the money. What happened next was nothing short of a miracle. The day I went to cash out my stock the numbers had jumped up and I suddenly had more than enough for the down payment. The numbers on the paper changed overnight. I would not only have enough to buy the house and keep my mortgage somewhat manageable, I would have enough to help with some the starter bills that came with it.
Because my husband and I were legally separated and he had bought his own home, the financial split was clean and had no legal issues to contend with. It’s almost like my buying the house was meant to be…
My leap of faith had paid off in ways I could not have predicted.
For the next year I buckled down and found ways to afford the house on my own that I wasn’t sure my husband and I could afford together. I felt strong, empowered, and continued to practice trusting myself and what felt right.
The following year I resigned from my secure and stable paying school counseling job to work for myself. I still wanted to help people but I also wanted to write. I started a private practice for counseling and also officially ended my marriage. Two years later I had two books published in the same year, a self help book and a children’s book. I have a successful private practice working the hours I want to work and my bills continue to be paid. I am in awe nearly every month when I sit down to pay them and I realize what I felt was true, is.
There is something to be said about using your head. To map out the possibilities, to make a plan, to see what could happen in black and white. But the truth is, we just don’t know. Our mind is unable to see the future and the outcome of our decisions. Yet our heart seems to have eyes that pierce through the unknowns, the darkness and focus on the dim light of clarity that is just out of reach.
Trust based living is not always easy. It requires practice of sitting with the fear and listening to it instead of pushing it away. It asks for check ins and disaster planning and poses fearful questions that are unable to be answered right away. It involves understanding yourself just enough to know that you are reliable and can be counted on even when things look bleak.
But the alternative, to walk through life staying in one place that feels unsatisfying, unfulfilling and downright disempowering just because it’s “easy”, is not living. It’s existing. And at least for me, existing sounds terrifying.
The numbers may not add up. The black and white may look bleak. Your head may be questioning your heart’s credibility, but that does not mean its time to end the dream. You have no concrete proof that either your head or your heart is right. But you do have proof that standing still gets you more of exactly where you are.
You don’t really know what is going to happen if you take the next step. But you do know what will happen if you don’t.
The choice is yours. It always has been.