C Hill

Many years ago our house was in foreclosure, the cars were going back to the bank, and our marriage was facing disaster. One day, while hanging out laundry, I was crying, “God, I said, you didn’t give me these beautiful children and this good life to see it all washed away in misery. Surely you did not bring me this far to fail.”

A few day later, we made the decision to leave our house, let it go back to the bank. I told a friend, “maybe our downfall here can bless the life of someone else. Who knows, maybe there is family with five kids, and a big need for this place and can use all the space.”

We moved. My husband said, “don’t talk to me about the house. I’m done with it.”

A letter came in the mail from a stranger. It read, “we want to buy your house. We have 5 kids, we own a trucking company. We need the space your place offers. Would you sell it?”

From out of nowhere, strangers who matched my words offered to buy our house before the foreclosure date AND pay off some ugly tax liens that against it.

I believe God heard me. He honored my heartache and was also pleased to rise to the challenge that I could possibly believe that something good could come for someone else from my shames.

We paid off the bad car debts in time. But when we signed the papers on that sale and those weights were lifted, I danced like Miriam crossing the Red Sea in the title company parking lot.

I’ve decided that God indeed hears us, not only in prayer, but in our daily talk. What we speak is more powerful than supplications in many ways.

Thanks for letting me share.