Ministry Moments:
Money Miracles --
"Don’t sell until I get back home"
by Lynn Ridenhour
A slight variation of this account is included in Lynn's discourse
on Faith.
God has always asked me to do things I can’t do. I
know there’s a popular saying, "…the Lord helps those who help
themselves…" To tell you the truth, I really don’t believe that.
The Lord helps those who CAN’T help themselves.
If we could help ourselves, we’d do it and wouldn’t need the Lord’s
help.
As said, the Lord usually asks me to do the impossible. That’s why I need
His help. I can’t do what He asks me to do without Him. That’s
particularly true when believing God for I what I refer to as "money
miracles."
It bears repeating:
I believe the Bible teaches--there is the grace of faith, and there is
the gift of faith.
For instance, every Christian has been given enough faith to believe
"he's saved." He's God's child. He has some faith to believe for
some things. He has a measure of faith. It's been granted him. God hath
dealt to every man the measure of faith; namely, to believe for eternal
things. The grace of faith.
There's another faith, however. To help us believe for temporal, earthly
things--the gift of faith. Elijah had the gift of faith--he stopped the
rain. Jesus had the gift of faith--he cursed a tree and stopped its
blooming. Moses had the gift of faith--he created a highway through the Red
Sea. The gift of faith is present-tense faith. It's "now" faith. The
gift of faith.
The Bible has to do primarily with stories of God's people exercising the
gift of faith, not the grace of faith. It's stories about iron floating,
Peter walking on water, Daniel in the lion's den, Phillip flying through the
air, Paul sticking his hand in the fire and not getting burned, God's
children in a fiery furnace and not getting cinched, Paul and Silas in jail
and the doors opening, the children of Israel's clothes growing on their
backs, ravens bringing the man of God bread and meat for breakfast, lunch,
and dinner, a widow's meal barrel never running empty.
The Lord began dealing with me while I was in my early 20s regarding the gift
of faith. Following is another incident where the Lord led me to teach me the
gift of faith—believing God for material things. It has to do with
purchasing property in the Center Place.
In October of '93 my wife was driving out near the Independence airport
when she ran across a sign standing in a field that read, "20 Acres
For Sale By Owner." The owner's phone number was on the sign. She
called him and asked me to go take a look at the land. I did and quite
honestly, didn't have any leading of the Spirit one way or the other. In the
meantime, I had to leave town, was doing a training seminar in Fargo, North
Dakota.
In my hotel that evening I get the strangest burning in my bosom to write
this man a letter, to pour out my heart to him and to let him know, we'd like
to purchase his land and use it for ministry purposes. I mentioned in the
letter that we'd even be interested in using it to minister to underprivileged
children. I mailed the letter and asked him not to sell his land until I
arrived back in town to talk with him.
I came home in the middle of the week and called him. His name was Mr.
Burton. He said he could meet with me Saturday morning, for me to come over to
his house. I wasn't there five minutes until we got down to business. I told
him I felt he should sell the land to my wife and me.
"Mr. Ridenhour," he said, "you're the 54th couple who wants
to buy this land. Do you know that?" Of course, I didn't. "And the
reason so many want the land, is we're financing it. Were you aware of
that?" I wasn't. I sat there attentively listening to his every word.
"Of all the couples that want to buy our land, my wife and I talked it
over. We want you and your wife to have it."
My heart was doing handsprings. I could hardly contain myself.
"Do you know anything about me?" he asked.
"No, sir. I don't."
"When you mentioned in your letter, you wanted to use this land for
ministering to under privileged children, you didn't know I was orphan?"
"No, sir."
"Well, we want you to have it. We want $6,000 an acre and 20 percent
down."
I'm sitting there in this stranger's house that I've just met; my head is
reeling. I'm counting $6,000 times 20. That's $120,000. Twenty percent down is
$24,000.
"I'll take it."
We shook hands and I left.
My wife was at work. I called her and said, "…hon, the twenty acres
is ours. I just bought it." She didn't know what to say. She was happy
and puzzled at the same time. She knew our financial situation. We didn't have
$120,000. We sure didn't have $24,000 cash for the down payment. But we'd been
in these situations before. There is a God in heaven.
We both got down on our knees that night and asked God for $24,000. Our
business was still in the start-up phase so we really couldn't expect much
from it. We'd just opened up our business in March. This was only October. I
really didn't know what to do. I knew I couldn't go to the bank or ask a
relative for $24,000. I had God to look to and only God. The end of the year
was upon us and I had an idea. I believe, a God-inspired idea. I called Mr.
Burton on the phone.
"…Say, Mr. Burton, would you mind if we broke our down payment up
into three payments. We'll pay you $8,000 starting next month, $8,000 the next
month, and $8,000 the following month."
"Sure, you can do that."
Now, we really prayed. Linda and I got back down on our knees and said,
"Lord, we need $8,000 for the next three months. Would you please bring
it in?"
Do you know, our business exploded! During the holiday season too. The
following month I hand carried an $8,000 cashier's check to Mr. Burton. The
following month another $8,000 came in. And the following month another
$8,000! That's November, December, and January--typically the three slowest
months in any business! Twenty-four thousand dollars came in and our business
was still in the start-up phase. We made our $8,000 month payments and still
had money to live on. God is so faithful.
We started cleaning up the twenty acres. Mr. Burton left us an old 1958
D-14 Allis Chalmers tractor. He gave it to us, along with an old brush hog.
The weeds were over my head when I started brush hogging. But as we say down
home, "I was in hog heaven." I sat on that old tractor many a
morning and sang praises to my God, the God who got us twenty acres in the
heart of the Center Place. I knew people could bear me singing on the tractor
in the early mornings as they drove to work but I didn't much care. There's
more to the story. We end up with 55 more acres next to us--the Conwell Berry
Farm.
One day I was sitting on my tractor brush hogging as usual when I noticed
down in the valley my neighbors, the Conwells, were doing their spring
planting. It was a beautiful sight, seeing them work the ground, as busy as
bees. The soil was rich. The fields were flat. And the view was mighty fine. I
said to the Lord, while riding up and down the rows brush hogging, "Lord,
it sure would be nice owning that land too. That would make it perfect. Twenty
acres here and fifty-five down there to farm. Would you give it to me?"
And I went on about my business. I really didn't think that much of my
prayer, not really. I more or less said it "off the cuff." But I did
start discussing the issue with a few friends, telling them how nice it would
be to own the entire 75 acres. The responses I received weren't too
encouraging. "You obviously don't know the Conwells, do you?" And I
didn't. "They'll never sell. That's a family farm, been in the family for
over 50 years."
Three weeks later I was driving down Eureka road in front of the Conwell
Berry fruit stand. Linda was with me. I couldn't believe my eyes. I saw a For
Sale sign stuck in a yard next to the fruit stand. I pointed it out to Linda
and turned into the driveway. "What are you doing? she asked. "I'm
going to find out what's for sale. The fruit stand or the farm. And who's
selling it." I parked my pickup, walked up to the door and rang the
doorbell. A middle-aged lady came to the door. I introduced myself and asked,
"ma'am, do you know who's selling what?" She laughed. "I ought
to. It's my dad. Please, won't you come in."
I stepped inside and made sure I understood what was for sale. She let me
know the 55-acre farm was up for sale. "Well, I'm interested," I
told her. I pointed out, I had purchased the 20 acres next to her. "0,
you're the one who sings on the tractor." I chuckled and said, yes. She
was pleased to meet me and told me that I had done a lot of cleaning up. Then
she gave me the number of her Realtor.
That evening I called. We talked, and he told me, "Mr. Ridenhour, I'll
be right up front with you. We already have a pretty good offer. The gentleman
is willing to pay one- quarter million dollars and give us half down. Can you
beat his offer?" A developer wanted the farm. My heart sank. "No, I
can't beat that." And hung up. That night I couldn't sleep, tossing and
turning. So I got out of bed and wrote the owners a letter, pouring my heart
out, telling them not to sell their farm to a housing developer, but to sell
it to us. We would carry on in the tradition of the Conwells, farming the
land. The next morning I hand-delivered the letter to the daughter.
At that time I had a friend who was selling her home. She said, "Lynn,
you need a Realtor." And gave me the name of hers. "She's one of the
most aggressive I know." I called Sally Groves and told her over the
phone our situation--that we would like to purchase 55 acres of land next to
ours and that we were up against a better bidder, perhaps a developer. She
said to come to her office, that she would help. So I walk in, introduce
myself, and we go to work. First, she said, we need to draw up a proposal.
"What's a proposal?" I had never worked with a Realtor before.
She explained and we drew one up in her office. I can still see her sitting
behind her desk typing, asking me questions:
"What's your offer?"
I didn't know. It was all happening so fast, so I actually pulled figures
out of the sky; that is, out of my head. "Offer them $220,000."
"How much down? They won't take less than 20 percent, I'm sure."
Again I'm pulling numbers out of my head. "Let's offer $45,000
down." She keeps typing.
"Who's your mortgage lender?"
"We don't have one, Sally. Ask them to carry the papers."
She balked but finally typed "owner-financed" and mailed the
proposal off that afternoon. I went home and prayed. Our offer was not nearly
as impressive as the one they had already received. Three days later Sally
calls me, all excited. "Lynn, I can't believe it. They took your
offer."
I said, "what do we do now?"
"We finalize the paper work. That's what we do."
I was elated. I call Linda at work. "Hon, we now own the 55 acres next
to us. They sold the farm to us instead of to the developer." She was
excited but realized, here we go again. "We don't have $45,000 for a down
payment!"
"I know that hon, but the Lord has money."
That evening Linda and I get back down on our knees and ask God for
$45,000.
It worked once before. Maybe it'll work again, I was thinking. I was
referring, of course, to splitting up the down payment. So I call Virginia and
ask, "Mrs. Conwell, Linda and I would like to pay you $11,000 next month,
$11,000 the following month, $11,000 the next month, and $12,000 the final
month. We would like to break up our $45,000 down payment into four
payments."
"I don't have a problem with that."
So Linda and I ask the Lord to bring in $11,000 extra income a month for
the next four months. You want to know something? He did! He really did. Our
business exploded again. I hand-carried this time $11,000 cashier's checks
four months in a row. The last month I hand-carried a $12,000 cashier's check.
And we were still able to live and make our monthly obligations.
Here's the scenario. God allows us to purchase $345,000 worth of prime land
in the heart of the Center Place without borrowing a dime! Our cash down
payments added up to $69,000. That was in '94. By the end of 1999 we owned the
property free & clear. With the Lord’s help, we were able to pay off a
thirty-year mortgage in six years.
The gift of faith in each of us allows us to call those things that be not
as though they were—and then they were.
