A few months ago, Christian came home from a work lunch
and told me about a home out in the country that he had heard about
and told me about a home out in the country that he had heard about
and that he had already gone to check it out and was really excited.
So, of course, we jumped in the car, so I could see for myself.
It was on a breathtaking land with
large mature trees and pastures with cows grazing.
It smelled like the country, and it sounded like the country.
I knew our family belonged here, but
the house was outdated and needed some love.
As I walked around, I noticed some apparent issues;
it was really tiny with little rooms, a strange loft upstairs,
no laundry room, and NO STORAGE. Like, anywhere.
It was immediately a no, and I put it out of my mind
and told Christian that while it was in a perfect
spot in the world, it was too small for our big family.
I think Christian was really disappointed but very understanding.
Then we left.
The following day I was driving in the car and felt the Spirit prompt
me to reconsider my feelings.
"It will work, Stephanie," I kept feeling.
And I ignored it because I didn't want it to work.
It needed a lot of work, and I wasn't sure if I was up to the task.
I was already tired of thinking about it and wondering
how I'd get our family (plus Angus) in there comfortably.
The feeling never went away, and finally, a few days later,
I asked Christian if he'd take me back to the house.
I told him about my promptings and how I was tired of being stubborn
and ignoring the Spirit.
"It will work," I told Christian.
After that visit, I had new eyes. I saw potential and solutions.
I saw my family inside, Christmas trees, and 4th of July fireworks on the
giant front lawn.
As we left the front porch, I felt three things:
1. How heavenly and quiet life would be living there.
2. We'd need to plant out Halloween pumpkins asap!
3. How aware God is of me.
We secured the house in early June.
Immediately we started making reconstruction plans for
the bathrooms and kitchen.
We would also refresh some paint, landscaping, new lighting,
and other easy fixes to get started.
One night I was lying in bed dreaming about how much I'd enjoy
living quietly on several wide-open acres,
letting Angus run wild wherever he wants,
and riding motorcycles wherever we want.
I saw us letting off fireworks,
living without seeing one house in sight,
and getting our own cattle herd again.
Quiet was the word that kept coming into my head.
I was reminded of our family theme this year:
Being still in this new house would be easy for our family.
"Stille" in Danish means quiet, and "sted" means place.
Introducing: Stillested,
the newest Nielson home.
