The apartment complex where I lived back in the early to mid-2000s was built post WWII, single story, brick, little or no insulation, windows in every room, 9 foot ceilings, hardwood floors, about 600 square feet. My rent was slightly reduced because the tub did not have a shower. The resident manager explained that if/when the plumbing needed to be replaced, then a shower would be installed; so, I used a nozzle that fit over the tub faucet with a hose and shower head attached. In severe heat or cold, the combined utility bills could equal the rent. The furnace was situated in the small attic, accessible by stairs that folded down from the hallway ceiling. Some nights the wind gusted through the vent and blew out the pilot light. The temperature inside would drop into the 50s and mornings were frosty as a result. Tenants had to purchase their own window AC unit(s) as the summer heat was unbearable inside. Though the rent was low, the utilities were high.

I started internet dating while living in this apartment in 2004. A friend arranged a blind date with a man locally who sounded interesting. He was three years older, divorced many years, stable, responsible, and reasonably attractive. I met him soon after and the first date was good. On the second date and the subsequent dates, his mother would call to remind him to come to her house the next day. He accommodated her wishes. She lived less than five miles from his home and she had been a widow for several years. He had sisters who lived close by as well, but he was expected to fill his father’s shoes in an apparently unhealthy manner.

When I suggested that we spend a Saturday afternoon together, he informed me that he could not because he had to visit his mother on Saturdays. He also went to church with her on Sundays and stopped by her home usually after work every day through the week for dinner. She routinely did his grocery shopping and checked on the needs in his home with laundry and cleaning. She basically did everything for him and even joked about buying the house across the street from him that was for sale. Smothering and controlling. Getting involved with him would bring battles with the mother.

He surprised me the next weekend by suggesting that we take a drive along Riverside Drive and across the Mississippi River, and he would show me the company where he was employed. His mother joined us and I sat in the backseat listening to their conversation during the drive. After we crossed the river, I shared that I was keeping my daughter’s dog and needed to stop by my apartment to let her out. She was housebroken but it would be several hours before I returned home and she needed this break.

As we pulled alongside the curb in front of my apartment, his mother declared, “You live in a dump”. Hot embarrassment shot through me, taking my breath for a few seconds. I waited for her son to say something, anything on my behalf, but he remained silent. They followed me as I walked to my front door and let out the dog. His mother was surveying everything as they entered my apartment. I was aware that this was not the standard of living she was accustomed to, but I took pride in the fact that I was self-sufficient in managing my expenses and earning my own income and I kept my place neat and clean. A wave of helplessness mixed with anger flashed through me briefly as the sting of her words echoed in my heart. We continued on our way, but the atmosphere in the car was now solemn, and I remained relatively silent on the return drive. In that moment when he failed to speak on my behalf, I knew I would not continue this relationship.

We had already made plans for the following evening so I did go with him to dinner. He brought my apartment into the conversation as we ate and asked about the cost of rent, utilities, etc. He talked from a practical logical perspective and suggested that I could afford a nicer place with the amount I was paying out. Newer apartments would have lower utilities as they are more efficient builds. I listened as he talked and something sparked in my spirit. A flicker of hope that I could live somewhere better began to grow.

Inspired by this moment of revelation, I began searching different areas online. My best friend told me about some apartments closer to where she lived in Mississippi, just below the Tennessee state line. I looked at my income and my expenses, compared to these newer units, and hope escalated. Soon after, I located an apartment complex that sounded promising. I left work early one afternoon to meet the resident manager and to view the available unit. Excitement stirred as I followed her up the stairs of a building close to the entrance of the large complex, noting the well-manicured grounds and landscaping. We entered the living room and I looked around in amazement. The apartment was 1050 square feet; 2 large bedrooms, each with a walk-in closet, 2 full bathrooms with one in the master, large living room, separate dining room, wide open galley kitchen, WD hook-ups, and a deep covered balcony. There were no shared living space walls. It was quiet and peaceful.

The apartment was all electric. Water and trash fees were included in the rent. The average utility bill was no more than a hundred dollars a month. With these adjustments, compared to my current rent and electric, gas, and water bills, I could afford the increase in rent.

We proceeded back to the office to process the application. She called me the next day with the news of my credit approval. Management was offering a move-in special of $99 for qualified tenants and I was able to claim that apartment. I later learned that the resident manager lived in the same building and she had kept that apartment empty for several months prior to my move. That afternoon I completed the forms and received the keys to my new home. I walked to the apartment in awe, leaving my car parked at the office, processing the changes. I stood still, looking out the patio doors across the balcony and listened to the silence. Happy tears flowed as I moved from room to room, in awe of this sudden improvement in my living situation.

My girlfriend was very excited for me and she was determined I would sleep in my new place before I could get everything else moved! She took the seats out of her van and drove over to help load my bed and take it to my new home. We hauled everything up the stairs and set it up in my master bedroom. The queen size bed that had dwarfed my previous bedroom now looked small in comparison. I moved that weekend, loads of boxes, with all the odds and ends that do not fit into boxes, and small furniture pieces. I was weary by the end of the day but filled with joyful gratitude. At this point, I was no longer dating the man whose mother’s hurtful words had prompted this change. He had not been involved in any of the process and had not called to offer any help. However, I called him and he did help me move my larger furniture.

I settled into my new place with glee. I enjoyed everything about my new apartment. For the first time in many years, I was at ease where I lived. I enjoyed being at home. A neighbor was moving out soon after I moved in, relocating in his employment, and offered me several houseplants. I happily accepted them and placed them on a bench by the patio door. This was the nicest place I had lived since the divorce in 1996. This was the place I lived when I had the revelation from God in 2005 that my life was going to change. This was the place I lived when I met Scott on the question and answer forum in September of 2006. This was the place I left to move to Goshen, Indiana, in January of 2008.

I did not recognize it then, but I now know God was speaking through that woman’s blunt words to jolt me out of that old defeated place, to look up, to hope, to believe. He was arranging the circumstances for my next season.

Life has changed dramatically since then, and God has continued to work, arranging and preparing the next season.