At Bootcamp, we received a comprehensive warning about the difficulty we would face. Steve Barber shared with us how he and his wife battled to get their house sold. I listened to his story and thought how difficult that must be for them as they waited for months. Little did I know that it would take us even longer and drive us to our knees.

 

It was April 2007 when we put our house in London on the market. We immediately had a response from a couple, and we were on our way house-hunting in Yeovil. About six weeks later after not hearing anything from our agent, I started asking questions. I knew in my spirit that something was wrong, and I started pushing for answers. Eventually, I got fed up with not getting honest answers from our agent, so I bypassed him and went directly to the solicitors. I found out that the couple who made an offer to purchase our house, also put an offer on another home and were hoping that the other house would go through. In which case, of course, they will then dump us. Because you do not part with any money for a deposit immediately, you can pull out of the deal at any time. Not good.

 

We decided not to give them the option of dumping us, so we dumped them, and it was back to the agent to look for another buyer. We soon heard from our agent that he had another buyer. We continued our search for a house and spent a weekend in Yeovil looking at houses. As we needed to get a house that would be big enough to gather several people, we had to be picky. It was Sunday, and we were already packed and ready to return home to London. We stopped at one more agent and looked at the houses in their window. One house caught my eye, but I previously rejected it because they mentioned this amazing feature called an ‘inspection pit’. Hendrik and I decided to drive past the house and when we stopped in front of the house, I said to Hendrik: “This is our house”. It was a detached home with ample parking. We managed to get hold of the agent on that Sunday, and by the time we left Yeovil, we had seen the house, made an offer and had our offer accepted. The people already purchased another house and were halfway moved out. Great job, we thought.

 

The next step will be exchanging contracts, and we were waiting. We thought it shouldn’t be long now, after all the agent keeps telling us the sale of our house is moving on. We had to book a company to move our furniture over to Yeovil and we were already heading for August. Twice we had to change the moving date as the contracts were not exchanged, as promised. Finally, the movers told us that we could not change the moving date again and after consulting the agent, we settled on the 4th of September as our moving date.

 

At the end of August, I wrote in my journal, these are the facts: “We must move on Tuesday. We have no home to move into. Our house is still not sold. Hendrik still has no job close to Yeovil and cannot resign. Since July, I have been unemployed, and we are now officially facing debt.”

 

After all the years the Lord brought us through, you now think, "We heard Him wrong." The agent said we would exchange contracts by Friday, August 31. Of course, he was lying again, and it never happened. We booked the movers for Tuesday 4th September, and they cannot move this date again. When they arrived, we asked them if they had a place in their warehouse to store our stuff and they said they did. We decided to leave our bed and two camping chairs behind. I went and sat in one of the chairs with my head in my hands and thought, “What are you doing Leonie? Are you crazy to move to Yeovil with no home, no job and no church? Are you nuts?”

 

Eventually, the phone rang. I hoped that it would be the agent. But no! It was the lady who owned the house we wanted to buy in Yeovil. ‘More pressure’ I thought. She is not even supposed to have my phone number. But when she spoke, it was a ray of hope. She said she spoke to the guy who is moving our furniture, as they know each other. She asked me, if I wanted to move all our stuff into their home and instead of paying a storage fee to the movers, pay her the rent money instead. I didn’t think twice as she did not ask for much and I accepted her offer, knowing that it was the last thing a solicitor would advise. But she knew she could trust us, and I knew I could trust her.

 

On the 17th of September, I wrote in my journal: “We have now moved and are renting the house we are supposed to buy. We cannot do any of the much-needed renovations. Our house is still not sold. Hendrik has no job. I am still not working. We are now even further in debt, paying a mortgage plus renting a house.”

We were grateful that the company Hendrik worked for in London, was willing to still employ him. He would spend two days in London and three days he would work from home in Yeovil. On top of everything, my youngest brother back in Namibia was in hospital with Melanoma Cancer. I remember Hendrik and I were on our way to a wedding of good friends of ours in the Lake District when I received a message from my brother’s friend, telling me that it was time. We stopped at the service station off the M5 and I called the number we received. I could hear my brother was in a lot of pain, but I knew that he was going to be with the Lord soon. It was a bitter, sweet wedding.

 

Back home in Yeovil, I signed up with a Temping Agency and very soon I started temporary employment at a cheese company in a nearby village. Hendrik still had his job in London until the end of November, but we still had no joy with the sale of our house. As we approached the last day of Hendrik’s employment in London, I was crying so much, I could hardly speak. I told Hendrik to please call Sunday Martins the prayer co-ordinator at Riverside and ask them to please pray for us.

Hendrik brought me the phone and said Sunday Martins’ wife Esme (the judge) wanted to speak to me. I could not speak, only cry but Esme told me. “Leonie, we are having a week of fasting and prayer here, and we will be praying for you. Do not fear. The Lord is with you.”

 

On Thursday we decided enough was enough and we told the agent the deal was off the table. He tried to threaten us, but we called his bluff and contacted a new agent who immediately promised to fax us the contract on Friday. Before we even received the contract, he already organised a viewing that Friday night and another on Saturday. On Saturday we had two offers on the table, bidding against each other. We decided to go for the cheaper bid, knowing that he was not in a chain and could immediately proceed with the sale. By Tuesday our house was sold. God must have been waiting for the united prayers of all His saints.

 

It seemed like that year was the worst year for us. A few days before Christmas 2007, I received a call from my sister. She phoned me from her hospital bed to let me know that she was about to go be with our Lord. She had ongoing spine problems, which caused her to gradually lose control of her legs, followed by her arms and hands, until all her organs shut down. I know she loved the Lord so much and I prayed that God would give her the biggest Christmas present ever that year. She died on Christmas day. She was the closest to a mother I had.

 

However before Christmas, Hendrik had a job offer in Bournemouth, to start immediately. It wasn’t ideal as Hendrik had to leave for work at 5:30 am, drive through to Dorchester where he got on a train to Bournemouth, and arrive home at 7:30 pm. We knew this was a temporary solution. At the end of January 2008 we attended our National Leaders Conference. During that week, Hendrik felt led to start job hunting again. To his great surprise, three job options appeared where there had previously been none, and he applied right away, finding exactly what he was looking for. He accepted a job offer on the final day his probation period ran out in Bournemouth.

 

Things were settling down and so were we. We got to know our neighbours and started renovating our house. I still had my temping job at Ilchester Cheese. It wasn’t ‘me proper job’, as they say in Zummerset, but the people were lovely. Every morning, I was greeted in the true Somerset style: “Alrite me luvver?” or “How be ye den”.

 

Yeovil District Hospital was a walking distance from our house and one day as I drove past it, I had this sense that I would work there one day. A few months later I found an advert in the local newspaper for a job at the hospital. It was work I could do with my eyes shut and without much responsibility. I went for the interview on Thursday. I was the worst interviewee they had. I refused to start pretending I knew all the facts about the hospital, just to impress them. I knew that if God wanted me there, he would give me the job. By 5 o’clock, I had the job. On Friday I told my boss at Ilchester Cheese that I got the permanent job I was after. At the end of Friday, I said goodbye to all, and in true Somerset style, they wanted to know, "Where you to?” and I could tell them, “To me proper job.”