Part 1: When what you build is not your dream home.

I lost my dream home, but not like you might think.

The home I live in now, it has a story. It begins with me wanting my own way, and ends with God having His. I had a plan. A plan for bigger, grander, better. God had a different one.

Husband gave me permission, a bright green light to design the home of my dreams. What woman, when given the option of creating a dream home, would decline?

Do you know, I used to want to be an architect? True story. I’m not, but that didn’t stop me from designing. Sure, we had to hire a draftsman to draw the plans, but I had a say in every part. I ate, drank, and slept the every detail of this house for years, until it became a reality — on paper.

I laid out every. square. inch. of the floor plan of both upper and lower levels — room by room, window by window, door by door, detail by detail. Graph paper notebook and pencil in hand, always, I’d draw and erase and draw until ideas began to take shape. Lines weren’t just lines, they were becoming rooms. And rooms weren’t just spaces, they were becoming a home — my home.

I’d stare at the plans, ponder, imagine, and dream. I pictured myself walking through virtual halls, visualizing sight lines. I’d envision the children playing, running up and down and all around. I had everything I could possibly need or want in the house plan. Rooms that would make decorating magazine editors swoon. A mudroom and a laundry room with its own walk-in closet and bay window. A kitchen suitable for a gourmet chef, where I dreamed of hosting friends and large parties.

Each of the children had their own bathrooms, and large walk-in closets, spaces to call their own, surrounding their large activity room. Even my beloved dining room table (yes, beloved) had its own room. We had a private master suite which was the left wing of the downstairs of the house. A full apartment above the garage, and the exterior, a rustic, Tuscan design. Dreamy.

It was my dream house.

And I had no reason to believe we weren’t going to build it. We were successful in business in the construction industry, and we had provision. We owned 30 acres of property. We had the chosen the perfect spot on the land for it. We were ready.

But just as the plans became finalized, complete with a stamp from the engineer, unexpected obstacles began to hinder ever step we tried to take forward. We pressed in and forged ahead, not realizing things were beginning to crumble and crash. Not just for us, but for the whole nation.

You see, man’s mind plans his way but the Lord directs his steps. Never had I seen it more clear than in this endeavor to build our dream house.

We were near to closing a sale on the home we were living in, the sale that would provide the rest of the finances for our dream home. And contracts were held up, negotiations going back and forth, and we tried to come to an agreement with the buyers, but couldn’t. Yet, we wanted and needed to sell our home.

We were frustrated and distraught. We had already lived so many years in transition. And anyone who has lived in transition knows what an unsettling feeling it is, and how difficult it is to make a home out of a temporary house.

But sometimes it’s the Lord who frustrates our plans. Not because He doesn’t want to give us good gifts, and bless us with what we desire. It’s because He loves us, sees our end from the beginning and knows what’s best even when we don’t see it. He protects and preserves us from things we are not aware of.

And if God could use a donkey to tell deliver His message, surely He could use a man. In the middle of all this, we had a preacher one Sunday night at church, who didn’t know anything about our plans tell us, “You’ve been trying to move forward and haven’t been able to.”

Yes, we knew that.

He went on to mention our contracts that weren’t going through.

Yes. How did he know that?

And he made this statement, the most ominous of them all, “If you go forward, it will be disastrous.”

Yes, that’s the word he used — disastrous. As in highly unsuccessful, devastating, tragic, awful, and unfortunate.

Was he saying this about my dream? My home? Surely, not! The preacher had no idea of all that we were dealing with, our plans moving forward, the troubles we’ve had, the obstacles impeding our progress, but my husband and I did.

Was it the Lord all along keeping us from moving forward?
Was God speaking through this man?

Clearly, He was. To be continued…

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You might also like:

When what you build is not your dream home. Part 2

When what you build is not your dream home. Part 3

See all posts in the series: Making of a Home [Unveiled]