Love grows best in little houses, with fewer walls to separate. Where you eat and sleep so close together, you can’t help but communicate. And if we had more room between us, think of all we’d miss. Love grows best in houses just like this. -unknown

It all began in a little farmhouse sitting on 70 acres. Tucked away in the rolling hills of Tennessee. Pastures and fields and the lake to the back. It was these four walls, God, and this land from sunrise to sunset, that built us. This little 1950’s home became a haven that would help us to build a foundation unlike either of us had ever felt together or apart.

A home has always been something special to me and incredibly important to this introvert heart of mine. I’m a “must have a safe place,” kind of girl and as many times as I’ve moved in my life, I’ve learned that the memories that you make in a place are the memories that will carry on forever with just the mention of what “home” was to you in that season. Some houses I’d rather not go back to, but others- if you’d give me the opportunity to step back inside, id gladly run back through the doors, sit in the living room floor, and let every memory flood me like waves crashing into the shore. As If stepping back into time, into the four walls of your heart.

So for this little home of ours…

Breakthrough healing happened in this place. Life change happened between these walls. Tears were shed, hearts were mended. Grace was given, forgiveness was understood. We came home from becoming husband and wife in this place. We found out that our dream of becoming parents was coming true in this place. We welcomed our first child in this place. We said goodbye to our 18 year old pitty princess and our lab boys in this place and found our wild cat who is now the coolest cat ever, in this place. We stepped into our greatest calling in this place. We learned to walk in freedom and obedience in this place. We had some tough days and we had some utterly beautiful days in this place. We endured a pandemic that changed this world in this place. We learned what the serene farm life felt like in this place. We watched some of the most magnificent sunsets in this place and got some of the boldest wisdom in this place. But most of all, we built us, in this place.

I remember like it was yesterday as John was living here in Tennessee and I was still living in Georgia, doing the long distance thing, trying to figure out what God had next for us.

We put out a plea- “God if you want us here in Tennessee then give us a house, that we know is from you.” A week later John had a random moment with a friend of his that asked John what our plans were and John replied with, “I don’t know yet, we are praying about God’s will.” And his reply settled it all that day- “I have the perfect house for you. It’s a small little farmhouse on my parents land with around 70 acres.” John replied with the main question- “Can we have our dogs?” And he said yes and it was settled. The very things on our wish list all came true with this one little house, but little did we know that many other dreams would be fulfilled too.

John did a walk through. I still remember that FaceTime call like it was yesterday. It needed so much love and luckily that’s my hearts cry. I see the potential in most everything. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect! I came up on the weekends and we put our blood, sweat, and tears into this place.

I still remember my first night in the house, all alone on this 70 acre farm. The silence was something I wasn’t used to and at first, it was quite deafening, but a feeling that it was more than welcomed. After walking through the season we had just come through, it was the best sleep I had had in years.

We were down to crunch time. The first weekend up to work, I came down with the stomach flu and ended up being down the entire time. I’m such a doer and the whole house needed painting but with one weekend down to sickness, I knew we wouldn’t be able to get it done before the big move. We got the name of a local painter to get a quote. He came by the house and we began talking about life and about God. About our stories and testimonies. That next week the painter called and said that God told him to paint the house for us at no charge. “Y’all buy the paint and I’ll do the work.” We fought him on it. John cried, I cried, and we compromised the next weekend with worship music blaring, as the three of us made every wall inside that home a piece of us. Another glimpse of affirmation that we were walking in the right direction.

Leaving Savannah to move to Tennessee required me to leave a business that I had built over eight years. A thriving business at that. Walking away from that was the greatest tug back and forth in my heart. It required me to start completely over here, in many more ways than just one. God had blessed me abundantly already, and I had to trust that He would continue to do so after taking a leap of faith in moving for the sake of ministry and starting over. Being In God’s will can often times be scary, but you know what’s really scary…being completely out of it. When He says move, we steady and listen. As my grandfather taught me there are good ideas and God ideas, this was one of those must leap, God ideas. But even when it’s a God idea, doesn’t mean it will come easy. I moved to a place where I knew no one. My “purpose” had been stripped from me. Being “needed” constantly from people slipped away and I was left with the raw me wondering what my true purpose was because I had found it in my career for far too long. John worked nights and stayed at the lodge a good bit so it was just me and the four pups in all the stillness of this little farmhouse. God knew that was just what I needed. To break the walls down of MY house. To shake the door where I found momentary purpose to find real and lasting purpose. To rip out the old nails that were rusting to nail in new ones that would create stamina and lasting strength. To rattle my windows where I wouldn’t be afraid of any form of shaking anymore, knowing what and who my identity was found in.

This home quickly became my safe place. It was what I knew and it kept me comforted while I found my bearings and while my spiritual house was being revitalized. It was the place that held what I did know of my past. My big bed that held me close on the quiet nights. The sunsets that I could watch and hear the whispers of the Lord. The rain on the tin roof that would send goosebumps down my spine. The fireflies that would light up the entire night sky. The huge oaks in the front yard that exemplified strength when I felt as if I had none. The snow that I could watch from the picture window curled up in a blanket on our couch. The deer that we got to watch prance in the early morning light. The rustle of the four dogs running wild in the leaves out back. The garden that gave me abundant lessons of life and food for our table and hearts. And one of my most favorite parts is the trail around the pastures that John built for me to walk and talk to Jesus in. That was my place that could change the trajectory of an entire day and in turn, a lifetime. Many times I would go walk in a tough moment and come back changed. John always knew I was outside talking to my best friend, my Jesus. Or my papa, he was also my best friend.

We began growing here and settling here. Our social calendars filled up with church and ministry events. What seemed so uncomfortable began feeling very cozy. It began to feel like home and this place remained our constant and our place to run home to.

We enjoyed weekly and some times daily kayak trips down the river when we needed peace to our days. Trout fishing and waterfall chasing right in the back yard. A garden that we tended to that gave us abundant life lessons that will never be forgotten. John built a table on our big front porch and it became our hosting spot where we could give back and fellowship with those special people God has put in our lives.

John and I often mention the fact that home has never felt this good. With our adventurous travel spirits, every time we are away, we always look at each other and know… it’s time to go home. Secretly, even if we are having a ball somewhere else, our hearts can hardly wait to get home. Back to our place, our humble abode and our sanctuary.

You see, this home and land are special to us. This place is where life built us. Where God built us. This place is what helped us become who we are today. He gave us the space that we could tend to and grow in. Saying that we are forever grateful for this home feels like such an undermining sentence because it’s so much more than that. It’s a feeling that can never be explained but only felt once lived through. Its a story we can tell Jasper as he gets older and wants to know where it all began. It’s the pictures we can thumb through and jump right back in time. It’s a feeling that we will hold dear to our hearts for the rest of our days. Home isn’t just a place. It’s a part of us and will forever be, the home that built John, Chelsea, and Jasper McLeod.

Leaving this little farm house will be one of the biggest bittersweet moments. Just as walking through these doors came with so many emotions of leaving the comfort that we knew, so does walking out of them. Leaving behind so many memories in both senses of a simple step into or out of the threshold of a place that God has placed you in and called you out of.

Thank you 2991 for loving us and helping to build us the way you have. Forever in our hearts and souls. You are now stamped on them forever.

And to our precious friends who gave us this place to love for over three years. We love you and are so grateful. Also, the strawberries should be ready to harvest and delicious right about now! Enjoy them for us!

With love, The McLeod’s