The Search

We don't have a place to live.

After spending a week searching for a new home in western Pennsylvania, we thought we had found a place. The condo was almost perfect. It was well maintained and big enough on the inside, though it only had a one-car garage and no backyard. But it was in our price range, so we put in an application.

And the owners picked us.

We were elated. And relieved. Our time away had not been in vain. All we had to do was read the contract and sign the lease.

Except, the lease was missing some important details. We asked for some additional information, some clarification, and for a few owner/tenant responsibilities to be outlined in writing. We didn't think we were asking too much, simply the assurance that they would keep the place safe and habitable (pest free) and give us permission to install a few child-safety latches.

Turns out, those are deal breakers. They insisted they didn't realize we had children, but that epiphany resulted in a $100 rent increase and the requirement that we pay to have the place professionally cleaned.

Once, when I was an RA at BYU, one of the apartments decided to pool their money and hire a cleaning service to prepare their dwelling for the monthly cleaning check. They didn't pass. My standards were much higher. They still are.

This back-and-forth negotiation went on for days. This morning Bryan and I prayed that we would make the correct choice, and that if this house wasn't right for us, we would know. I got absolutely no answer. This is highly unusual for me. I usually get something, even if it's just a nudge in the right direction, but no, it was radio silence.

Bryan called me from work this afternoon to tell me about the changed lease stipulations. I said that didn't sound like someone we wanted to work with, and I suddenly felt a strong confirmation that what I had said was true. Bryan called the realtor and we pulled our application. And we feel really good about it, which seems to fly in the face of logic, though it was the right choice.

But it also means we don't have a place to live.