Arleen’s Wedding Anniversary

When I was thirty-nine, my family and I went to George and Arleen’s fiftieth wedding anniversary. It was hosted in their home which was tucked back off the street. A stream gurgled by in their backyard with a redwood porch built halfway over the stream.  Old sycamore trees shaded the yard. I felt I had walked into a private park. 

As Arleen showed me around their house, I thought, I would love to live in this house. I like this floor plan, and I’ll probably live here someday!

Nonsense, I retorted to that crazy voice in my head. Where did that thought come from? I have two children and am married. This idea is nuts.

George and Arleen were mentors in our church, and I attended their early morning prayer groups in their home. My kids grew up, I went through a nasty divorce and retired at age fifty-five with a limited income. A friend from church called me, “You know George died last year and Arleen is lonely. Would you want to live with her?”  Hmm. Maybe.

I called Arleen and we readily agreed to try being ‘housemates’ for a year.  I moved in when I was fifty-five. Arleen was seventy-five. We became dear friends, and soon she became like my mom. We lived together for seven years!

Where did that still small voice come from? Sixteen years after I’d had that ‘crazy’ thought, there I was, living in Arleen’s house.  I believe God gave me a hint about my future needs.