Selling the House, Staying in the City

I was asked recently to share why Robyn and I are so dead-set on living in the city. I've mulled it over... and I don't have an official statement. Maybe sometime soon I'll come up with something a little more all-encompassing, but for now I think paragraphs 3 and 4 in a post from last month sum it up relatively well.

Truthfully, valid and logical points for or against city living could be made all day long and it wouldn't change our mind. The crux of it all is that we believe God has been preparing us for the urban life over the last 5 years of engagement and marriage. Even prior to that, the footwork was laid, specifically for me as that pathetic racist inside of me was exposed for the bastard it was in the April 2001 Cincinnati riots and the August 2001 Young Life Lake Champion life lessons. (For an abridged version of my history regarding race, check out this post from 2005... a post I am still rather proud of 19 months later.)

Anywho, we had absolutely no clue that the house would sell so quickly, for no less than four reasons:

(1) It's not a good market to sell a house in, possibly the worst in many many years.
(2) Our house is located within Cincinnati city limits. We consider this a good thing, but the average Joe Housebuyer does not.
(3) Our house only has 2 bedrooms, which significantly reduces the number of potential buyers.
Still tracking with me? How many people do you think are interested in a 2-bedroom city home in a bad market? Now that you have adequately realized the 8-ball we were behind, here's the kicker...
(4) The house is freaking purple. As if the first 3 reasons weren't enough to turn off 99% of area buyers, do you think anyone is left?

And yet, the house was under contract in less than a month. And we essentially got our asking price. Still, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop... surely, upon getting the house inspected, the buyer will back out... Nope. The buyer is a 24-year-old young lady who does high school ministry at a quality church that a friend of mine attends, and her parents live around the bend.

I write all of this so that I can now say with all the confidence I have: this is a God thing. I know it sounds cliche, but there is no other explanation for the way this has all gone down. God is ready for us to move on to the next season of our lives.

Now, if we could only figure out where we're supposed to live in this upcoming season. We still don't know, but I think we're getting closer to answers. We spent some time walking around a potential new neighborhood tonight. We found folks young and old, white and black and Hispanic, drunk and sober, friendly and not-so-much, richer and poorer. The potential house is even already quasi-handicap-accessible for my mom. We'll see what happens.