Journey to The Fountain in 2007

GOING TO CHURCH, I began to exude love—the kind of love that cannot be hidden. My eyes had a glow, my face was flush—a friend noticed, “Something is different with you. It’s in your eyes.” I denied, though I knew she was right, I could feel it, like never before—I knew I desired more of it, whatever it was.

 

During a bible study, I was invited to attend a small group, “Hope for the Separated”. I met a friend there who told me about a lovely apartment—it just what I was looking for. It was a perfect safe place to be alone and repair myself. This time I’d not stumble desperately from one relationship to the next, but be alone.

 

Isaiah 40:31 was also driving me. My God-father had told me eagles go to the highest mount, alone, to pull out old feathers, to allow new ones to grow. It just so happened I ended up in a top floor loft. I actually tried to get a smaller cheaper ground floor unit.

 

The leasing office called—“You didn’t sign the lease.”

“What do you mean I didn’t sign the lease—I signed like thirty pages!”

“You did not sign the front page. The apartment is not yours yet.”

 

Frustrated, the unit was adorable, it was yellow, in the middle of a row of apartments, with a cute little porch, a little ways from that fountain. Though I was starting to doubt it, it was small, on the ground floor, and had several windows and doors—not the safest. And now I had a chance to get out of this unit, so I did, but it forced me to make a quick decision.

 

I had to re-sign by the next day or I’d lose the special rate, leaving me little time to over-analyze my choice. The next day I went to the leasing office. It turned out the larger loft had just fallen under special pricing, putting it within my reach. I went to view the first one available, it was on the corner, at the end of the row, it was a towering beautiful inspiring spacious light filled loft. I signed the lease on the spot—unlike me.

 

            Later I noticed, my loft had a round window, the house in my vision contained this very same architectural touch. And my building was white, also matching the vision. And it was at the end of a lane, in a sense, it was an end unit, and closer to that fountain—I could view it from my loft.

 

            A few months later, a neighbor moved in—his porch faced the fountain. The day he put out two rocking chairs, I couldn’t help but smile…my vision contained these chairs. All these little details continued to fit the puzzle of my vision. It started more and more to confirm any doubts I’d had—I was supposed to be here, perhaps it was destined.

 

One morning in my loft I read an Oswald Chambers devotional, “If you ever had a vision from God, you may try as you will to be satisfied on a lower level, but God will never allow it.”