Home Sweet Church House
Are we going to buy a church?
Since I’m on Zillow so much these days and since I have my Habakkuk list of parameters, I have the app set up to notify me when anything new comes on the market that fits my criteria of number of bedrooms and bathrooms, square footage, etc.
Because I run several businesses from my cell phone - isn’t technology amazing? - I tend to check it often so that I can respond quickly to messages. One day, I hear the tone telling me that I have a new email and see it’s from Zillow. Since I get these frequently, I glace at it and initially don’t think much of it. It’s a busy day and house hunting isn’t really a priority. I dismiss it until later.
When I stop to take a break a little later in the day, I click through my messages and see it again. It’s listed as three bedrooms and three bathrooms. Three bedrooms is really too small for our family but the 4350 square feet is a little more interesting to me. You never know what other spaces there may be that can become another bedroom or the extra den with a fold out couch for the kid who comes home to spend the weekend. It’s still a big house at over four thousand square feet but is a little smaller than what we have now so that could still count as downsizing, right? I click on link in the email.
What a weird looking house. Wait... that looks like a church. There’s a church for sale in Muncie? And it’s listed on Zillow? I forward the email to Bruce with no explanation.
Later on that evening, I ask him if he looked at the church that I emailed him. Church? What church? Should we look at it? Maybe. I drive by the next day. I call Bruce. He drives by. I send our commercial real estate agent a message.
Hey Ed, this property just popped up the other day. It looks like it might have just gone on the market. Can we look at it sometime?
I get a response the next morning: Sorry Jen. It got an offer on it right away and went pending within the first 24 hours. It would have been a good one. Maybe we can catch the next one.
The news hit that the old Borg Warner plant had been sold and the new owners were going to start building soon with plans to open a steel-dust recycling center there. This was just a mile or so from our house. Many people were deeply concerned about the health risks associated with that, myself included. I was also very concerned about the state of the Muncie economy. What would happen to our businesses? Our property values would plummet. The mercury, lead, and other by products from this plant would pollute our air and leech into our groundwater potentially causing many very serious health risks. The evidence is clear from other cities that are affected by this very same thing. I decided that we needed to move now.
I scheduled an appointment to look at a house in the woods that is several miles west. I think it’s interesting. It has outbuildings and a stream. Bruce doesn’t say much but I can tell he thinks it’s terrible. I take him to look at a house on a lake about 15 miles north. I tell him that it will be ‘interesting’. He just thinks it’s weird. And it really is too small. House hunting is not for the faint of heart but it’s especially hard when there is a looming sense of urgency.
Meanwhile, arguments in favor of the recycling plant and those opposed fly back and forth. Petitions circulate getting hundreds and thousands of signatures. People are frightened by what could become of our homes and our communities. People are scared for not only their livelihood but potentially their health and their lives.
I continue to remember how God gifted us the house that we are in now. It’s a mansion. It’s perfect for our family. Everything that we wanted. It’s in the right location and came at exactly the right time. God will provide the next right place. I try to tell myself to be patient and have faith. And, every time to I that, I fell like God is responding to me by telling me that it won’t look anything like I expect it to.
One Saturday a couple weeks later, Bruce and I are working together at Escape Muncie watching people play games. A text message comes in from Ed. It says: The deal on the church on Jackson Street just fell through. Do you still want to see it?
I show Bruce the message. For a minute, we just look at each other. Neither of us speaks but I know exactly what he is thinking. I immediately send Ed a response. Yes!
We were the first ones there at 9:30 am on Monday morning. When we opened the door, we were struck by the smell of a musty old church. It was dark and dated. The carpet was dirty. The fluorescent lights buzzed. We walked in and were pleasantly surprised by how intact everything seemed, like the last people had walked out and closed the door behind them and that was that.
We walked through a chapel, the pastor’s study and the church office. Then we stepped into the church sanctuary. Rows of church pews greeted us. Hymnals and bibles were stacked on the organ. The stained glass windows were beautiful and completely intact. We stood there frozen for a minute and in awe. Ed said, “I don’t mean to rush you, but I have another showing in 20 minutes.” I said, “Call them and cancel.” He walked into the other room and made a phone call. He had pushed them back so that we could have more time.
We walked slowly through. We walked upstairs and downstairs. We looked at how the spaces might work. Where could we put bedrooms and bathrooms? Where would the kitchen be? Could we make a master suite for my dad on the main floor so that he wouldn’t have to do anymore steps? We tried to envision our family there. Or could we turn it into apartments? A restaurant? Another escape room? So many possibilities. This place just seemed to go on and on.
As I walked downstairs and into the church basement, I imagined the fellowship hall filled with people. I could almost smell the potlucks that had happened there. We stepped into the kitchen and pulled open the cabinets, each one labeled so that anyone volunteering would know where the utensils should go once they were washed or the salt and pepper shakers were kept. And, sure enough, the cabinets were all still full. Pots and pans, dishes, silverware. It was all still there.
There were multiple other showings scheduled that day and the next. We learned that the financing on the first offer fell through so the seller’s decided to open up the offers to highest and best bidder. We thanked Ed for his time, told him that we would talk it over, and promised to get back to him later on in the day.
Wow, it sure is interesting. It’s got large open spaces, beautiful stained glass windows, is in good condition, and the price is ridiculously low for that much space. We could turn it into our house. But then we would be moving directly into the path of pollution from the recycling plant. I can’t agree to that. I will not put my health or the health of our family at risk for the sake of ‘interesting’.
But it’s just too good of a deal to pass up! So, could we turn it into student housing? After all, Ball State University isn’t just going to shut down, is it? What about some Airbnb spaces? A coffee shop on the corner? What will the economy in Muncie be like if this recycling plant moves into town? We talk about the possibilities. We finally call Ed and express my concerns. He understands and tells us that he found out that they have decided to take offers until Thursday so we’ve got a little more time to think about it. Bruce is in love. I’m just torn.
On Monday afternoon, we take our youngest daughter off to college. Tonight is a city council meeting. Hundreds of people show up at City Hall to protest the recycling facility. We watch updates and live feeds of the council meeting on Facebook as we are driving home from Purdue. It turns ugly. Obviously there is much opposition and many people are just plain scared of what the future holds. Going to bed that night, I realize that I am pretty scared of that, too.
On Wednesday afternoon the news starts to circulate that the recycling plant has decided to drop their plans to build in Muncie. They must have realized that with that much opposition, they will be constantly fighting an uphill battle. It only takes a minute for Bruce and I to both realize what that decision means for us! Bruce calls Ed and tells him that we want to submit an offer on the church. We will talk about it and let him know first thing on Thursday morning what kind of offer that will be.
We’re going to buy a church!