My hunt for a home began in July of 2001 when I placed my Miami residences on the market for sale in anticipation of relocating to Nashville. By September I had one home sold and the other was receiving weekly showings. I searched on the internet and was impressed with the value one could obtain in Middle Tennessee as compared with South Florida. I contacted a listing agent of one particular property and informed her I was a real estate agent as well and would be relocating in the coming months. She offered to send me a stack of property books one obtains at local supermarkets and a Nashville Yellow Pages telephone book which I requested. Much to my surprise, they arrived in two days, overnight delivery.Now for you real estate professionals out there, I am about to share a story that identifies me as the nightmare one hears about in your sales training classes. I ask for your compassion and understanding and know that my REALTOR® did extremely well financially for years to come based on my business relationship, so don't be too critical of me. And the rest of you can imagine and chuckle. Since I would be investing my life savings in a home in Nashville, I needed to know beyond doubt that I was buying in an area that would appreciate in the coming years and be in close proximity to where I would want to live my life and establish relationships. So here is the process we lived through for the next three months.
First I divided middle Tennessee into four quadrants, each not more than 1.5 hours travel distance from downtown Nashville. I would search through all the property books and make a list of homes I would like to consider in each particular quadrant. On a Tuesday afternoon, I would send her secretary a list of 180 homes I would like to see (yes, you can believe it). By Friday morning, the list would be emailed back with only those that were still available for purchase. I would fly into Nashville on Saturday morning and we would look at twelve to eighteen homes per day for a week completing my study of each quadrant. Fortunately, I only needed about three to five minutes in each home. I would then fly back to Miami and repeat the process two weeks later. We did this on four separate occasions until I had a thorough understanding of the housing market, neighborhoods, price ranges, culturally ascribed values and public perceptions of different communities. Those things were important to me back then. It is amazing how God works with us where we are and blesses us accordingly with no judgment. As a Father He communicates love to us on our level and provides what we equate for a time even in our brokenness.
On my second trip out, we did find a nice home in a steadily appreciating neighborhood that appraised for $314,000 being offered at $289,900.00 as a corporate relocation. We offered $279,000.00 but were declined as I had a home to sell and this particular company required no contingencies. This home was something of a dream for me. It was full brick on an acre with four bedrooms, three and a half baths and a four car garage. The den had a fireplace and the kitchen had an island with solid surface counters and double ovens. It was a custom built home by its present owners who never painted nor wallpapered. There was upgraded trim on the inside of the closets and only one nail hole in the upstairs bonus room over a door. This home was brand new. But the offer was declined. What made it specifically interesting was what occurred when we stepped into it on our first visit.
My agent and I had looked at two other homes that morning and this was our third. I walked in, went to the kitchen, rested my hands on the kitchen counter and let out a long sigh. I don't sigh. And I was not tired or sleepy or bored. So the behavior prompted me to take inventory of my emotions and consult God. I was feeling very comfortable and peaceful. I was encouraged by our progress so far and was enjoying a sunny day of looking at homes. But there was that sigh. It was a nice home in a nice neighborhood and would have been a great deal $35,000 below appraisal thereby offering instant equity. But they declined.
Our search continued for two months in which time my other Miami home sold, the movers were contracted, the goodbyes were shared and my company was closed. I had no debt, 25% for a down payment and enough cash after that to last for six months. So I returned to Nashville with the intent and need to find a home, find better financing, negotiate and finalize a deal, set the closing date and plan the move. In Miami, the closing was scheduled for three weeks hence and the movers would be on their way shortly thereafter. I had no choice but to find a home on this visit.
Since I had no credit card debt and paid my mortgages late on several negligent occasions, my credit score would only allow me to get between an 11.75 and 12.25 percent loan. I considered that to be absolutely absurd so I made it a point to consult with several banks and credit unions in Middle Tennessee on this trip.
By Tuesday afternoon we had seen all that had to be seen and I was ready to narrow down our choices. There were two homes in Murfreesboro that were in the running. My first choice was on the seventh green of a golf course overlooking a lake. It was a two story brick colonial with massive columns at the entry and was equally opulent inside with marble foyer, French doors, winding staircase, inlaid wood floors and spectacular master suite with veranda to enjoy the setting sun. It was being offered at $259,000 and needed about $15,000 in updating expense.
The second choice was a an older brick ranch with a walkout basement on three plus acres with 300 feet of fifty foot wide river at the rear yard bordered by large oaks and natural flat boulders perfect for sitting with your feet in the cool waters. It was being offered at $264,900 but it also needed about $50,000 in updating expense.
The third choice was the home in Franklin on which we had originally placed an offer that was declined. It was still on the market but the price was now reduced to $279,000.
My agent and I made plans to see all the homes for sale in the neighborhoods and close proximities of my first two choices the following morning. We would then present an offer immediately after taking active comparables into consideration. That would allow me the afternoon to meet with bank officials and secure a better loan rate.
Now, every time my agent and I would meet to go look at a series of homes, I would arrive at her office at 8:30 am as she had instructed. She would show up near that time and do some preliminary work and then make the calls for the appointments having us depart on our tours usually around 9:15 am. I had come to accept this as her routine. After all I had asked of her in seeing so many homes, I was not about to suggest she make calls and schedule the appointments before I arrived at her office.
On Tuesday evening, I made some calls to friends in New Jersey and Miami for counsel. I informed them of my three choices and my reservations and concerns with each. My first choice was so formal that perhaps it would not promote a comfortable environment for friends to relax and kick off their shoes. My second choice needed so much work that it did not seem practical despite the lovely grounds. Both were in Murfreesboro which represented quite a drive to Franklin and Brentwood where it seemed my future job and most of my business associates would be. Traffic was difficult on I-24 being the main corridor between Nashville and Atlanta. Even on our return from the visit that afternoon, it was bumper to bumper as far as the eye could see. I would have to leave at 5 am, go to the gym and have breakfast in Brentwood, go to the office from 9 to 5, hit the library for some bible study and then have dinner in Brentwood or Franklin to drive home after 8 pm in order to avoid the traffic. What kind of life would that be?
I called my agent around 8:30 pm to request we not see the homes in Murfreesboro and just go to the one in Franklin to see it again. Well, I guess that was the last straw because she responded with great emotion on the phone and said she had already made the appointments and calling to cancel would make her look incompetent to her peers and she would be considered an unprofessional, etc. It was rather high pitched. I backed off immediately and agreed to go see whatever homes she wanted. Yes, Dear.
The following morning I was extra sensitive fearing to trigger some discontent. We looked at all the comparative homes for choice number one and then reviewed it once more. I had my heart in my throat. This was not the home for me but how could I get to choice three without stirring the emotions of the prior evening? As she locked the front door, she commented, "It's really not as impressive as it was yesterday, is it"? I agreed fully and thanked Jesus under my breath. Off we went to see the homes in the community of choice number two.
We saw the comparables and visited choice number two again. It apparently needed so much work. We discussed the potential future costs and then I asked her, "Would it be too much trouble to visit the house in Franklin"? She replied, "Not at all, I'll call to request an appointment after a brief stop for gasoline". Great! Thank you, God. I am still amazed at her great patience with me throughout this entire adventure.
Life was back to being a dream until we got to the gas station. Her card was declined so I offered to pay for it. It was under twenty-five dollars as I recall and she had done so much driving for me, it was the least I could do, but she would have none of it. This was a matter of principle to her. I suggested she not worry that the attendants were probably college kids and they would not care, offering once more to have her put it on my card. But her reputation and character were at stake and she would not accept. She made them call the bank and verify that she had more than enough funds to pay for the gasoline. She then made the bank apologize. It took twenty two minutes by my watch. It was nearing 11:30 and I still had to go to the banks and check with the credit unions.
We set off for Franklin. My agent mentioned that she was hungry and asked me if I would mind making a stop for lunch. I reminded her that I needed to make an offer on a home today and that I still had to go to the banks. She suggested we pick up lunch and eat on the way, so I agreed, and so we did, adding even more to the delay (I never realized until writing this that I was totally oblivious to my agent's concerns and needs at the time being consumed by my goal of finding a home on that day. God is so gracious to teach us about ourselves with such mercy and compassion).
Now here was the plan as it played in my head: this home is being offered at $279,000. I will get a loan commitment letter first and then start my offers at $250,000 in this case with no contingencies and able to close in three weeks. It was still on the market, the price had been dropped, and they have that stipulation in place that would disqualify and limit potential buyers as I had already experienced so the negotiation posture was good for a serious potential buyer at this time.
When we arrive, there are two men looking at the home and walking the grounds. I thought if they express interest in the property, the sellers will not accept my offer knowing another party may offer more. This was not good. As they made their way around the rear of the building peering into windows, it was evident that neither was an agent. When we approached, they informed my agent of their interest in the home and asked if she would kindly show them the property. There was no choice in the matter and so I suggested my agent do so while I waited outside.
It was at this point the fun began. God told me to walk the perimeter. I heard it. Just like when He told me to move to Nashville, a specific and direct sentence. So I obeyed, and there I was, a 41 year old man walking the perimeter of an acre parcel of land, one foot heel to toe and stating, "This house is mine, this grass is mine, that tree is mine, that bush is mine, in the name of Jesus, every place my footsteps touch belongs to me, in the name of Jesus". And so it went around the entire property. I know it sounds crazy but that is what I did. When I enter through the front door, I hear one of the men exclaim from the distance of the second floor, "This is exactly what my wife and I have been looking for. We can put our pool table in this recreation room". I turn from the foyer into the dining room and state while touching everything, "It does not matter what my ears hear or my eyes see. What matters is that this is the home for me. God does not want me out in the street and there is no other choice. This home is mine in the name of Jesus". And then it really got crazy. I began to touch everything claiming its possession. This light switch is mine. This door frame is mine. This cabinet knob is mine. This garage door window is mine. If anyone had heard me I would have been a perfect candidate for institutionalization. It appeared I was out of my mind. My fingerprints were on everything. As they came down the front stairs I went up the rear ones and continued to touch everything I came near claiming their ownership in the name of Jesus.
As I walked toward the front of the home through the second floor hallway I noted they were standing in the foyer and the man informed my agent that he would like to make an offer. She informed him that this property was a corporate relocation and that it contained a stipulation that there be no contingencies. He relinquished and she then proceeded to inform him that even if he were able to make an offer that I was ready to present mine that very day; that I had no contingencies since my home had already sold in Miami; that I was coming in with an $80,000 down payment; and she even went so far as to say the only difficulty I faced in obtaining this home was my inability at the moment to find a lower interest rate on a loan which I would be pursuing with banks later that afternoon. Frankly, I was a bit surprised by all the information about me which she took the liberty to share with a complete stranger but it was all orchestrated by a Great Redeemer and Gracious Father!
You see, he then shares with her that perhaps he could help as he and his partner, the gentleman with him, were loan officers at a mortgage brokerage. As I made my way down the steps toward the foyer, I thought, sure, right. I am going to share with you what I am going to offer, so you can offer a bit more and take this home away from me in the negotiation process. I am from Miami via New York. Business is cut throat where I come from and that would be a typical maneuver. I took the gentleman's card and conveyed my appreciation as they departed. Again, totally oblivious to what was being played out in front of me. I was so consumed with my agenda and so new to the experience of an Intimate Loving Father that I could not see provision even if it was shouting in front of my face. I only knew how to live life independently and Father God here begins the lessons of dependence by showing me His ability to not only meet my needs according to His riches in Glory in Christ Jesus but to prove Faithful and Trustworthy and Sure even in times of shadows and grey skies.
We then locked the doors and left for my agent’s office in Brentwood. By the time we arrived it was early afternoon. I called the seven credit unions serving middle Tennessee and only one would offer loans to non-members except it would offer loans in any county in the entire state except Williamson County where this particular property was located. The banks were no help and the credit unions would not work either. I figured I might as well call the gentleman we met at the house. He said he would gladly research my options if I could come to his office. I felt embarrassed to suggest we meet soon as my situation was pressing but I did not have to say anything since he asked, "What are you doing right now"? I agreed to meet him in 10 minutes. Turns out, of all the places his office could be located; it was within blocks of my agent's office. I could have walked there. Within one hour, I was approved for a loan of $260,000 at 8.12%. God brought the mortgage brokers to the door of the house, to the door of the house. He orchestrated all the delays, the sigh, the first declined offer, the appointments made for the other homes that morning, the gas card malfunction, the lunch stop, even the location of my agent so that it could all be played out so well and in such a timely manner. Every detail played a part. God brought the mortgage brokers to the door of the house!
We started the negotiations at $250,000 and countered back and forth until we settled on $260,000 on a house that I had offered $279,000 two months prior. God gave me an additional $55,000 equity from the start and He brought the mortgage brokers to the door of the house!
God said, "Move to Nashville". I obeyed. God said, "Walk the perimeter". I obeyed. And God responded to faith by providing a home beyond my dreams and even brought the mortgage brokers to the door of the house so that I could get my financing in place at just the right time to make the offer. No matter what it looks like; no matter what you hear; no matter what you see; and no matter what condtion you may consider yourself to be in - what matters is what you know beyond doubt that God has spoken to you and your willingness to do the crazy thing and believe. He only offers the best for you. Trust and obey. Blessings to you, Beloved.
He brought the mortgage brokers to the door of the house!
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