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3 Miraculous Stories of Heaven-Sent Houses

This collection of house hunting miracles reminds us that the divine architect is always at work.

Illustration of a doormat, an open door and a key; Illustrations by James Steinberg

Hebrews 3:4 tells us, “For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything.” This collection of house-hunting miracles reveals the work of the ultimate architect.

Marcy Tuttle Vedral from Prospect Heights, Illinois

My daughter and I were driving back to my house. We’d just viewed a townhome I didn’t like. I couldn’t see my husband, Bill, and I making a home there. It had been too small and different from what we had now. Plus, it didn’t feel welcoming. Not like our current place, where we’d lived for 43 years. We loved it there. The house was two stories with a nice, big kitchen. We’d even remodeled it to suit our taste.

But Bill and I were getting older, and it was becoming too hard to get around in a home with two levels. I had been diagnosed with late-onset muscular dystrophy, and Bill had just undergone back surgery. Though it was time for a one-story home, I didn’t really want to move. I was having a hard time staying open-minded.

Before we got home, my phone rang. It was my son-in-law. He’d heard about another one-story home that had just been put on the market that morning. I agreed to view it.

When we pulled into the subdivision, we recognized it immediately. It was the neighborhood in which my parents used to live. I had visited them there every day. We’d sold their house after they passed. We pulled up behind my son-in-law’s car in front of the listed address: my parents’ former home! He’d had no idea it was the exact house they’d lived in. It looked as if Bill and I would have a familiar place to call home after all.

Lorna McKinney Hall from Merritt Island, Florida

When my husband, Dan, and I began the search for a new home, one instantly came to mind: the ranch house on Cocoa Beach. We’d always admired the home, which was situated on a waterfront lot in the town next to ours. Something about it just drew us in. But it wasn’t for sale, and even if it were, its waterfront location would have put it out of our price range. Still, throughout our house hunt, it remained in the back of my mind.

One day, Dan found an ad in the newspaper: “House on an acre, finish it yourself.” It was within our price range, so we made an appointment to check it out. Even though it was only the barebones structure, it was clear it had the open, inviting layout we wanted. As we walked around, Dan got more excited. “This place has so much potential!” he said. I was a bit hesitant to take on such a project.

The owner chimed in. “The floor plan is based on a home I used to be a caretaker for,” he explained. “In fact, my old boss decided to tear down that home. He gave me the materials from that house to reuse for this project.”

He told us the address. It was the Cocoa Beach ranch house! Any doubts I had faded away. This was definitely the right house for us. It always had been.

Paula O’Donnell from Springfield, Missouri

When my husband, John, and I put our house on the market, it sold in one day, leaving us in a mad dash to find a new place to live.

I’d always dreamed of having a one-story, cream-colored house with black shutters, an open-concept kitchen, a big family room and a nice backyard. Most importantly, I hoped to live on a street in my friend’s neighborhood. It was beautiful and quiet, the exact setting I could see John and I settling down in. But our real estate agent assured me there was nothing for sale there. I knew it would be impossible to get a house with everything I wanted.

John and I walked through house after house with our agent, but the homes either weren’t going to work for us or were snapped up before we could make an offer. It was wearing us out. “Please find the right match for us,” I prayed one night after a particularly hard day of searching.

The next day, my agent called. “I have a house for us to check out that’s not on the market yet,” she said. She knew the homeowners, and they’d reached out to her before listing it to see if she knew anyone who was looking.

My heart leaped as we turned onto the very street where I’d always hoped to live, and we stopped in front of a home I had never noticed before. It was cream-colored with black shutters. Before we even set foot inside, I knew I’d find everything else I’d hoped for. Because with God, nothing is impossible.

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