It was time to move from our house in Barlowganj.  Our landlord wanted to increase the rent and we needed a bigger place. We were sad about leaving it, especially the girls.

So much had happened there.  It was where the community started.  It was off the beaten track and we were surprised that so many people had come to visit us. 

We had really wanted to be in the centre of God’s will.  When we left South Africa all we knew was that we would be in North India.  When got to India, we felt we would be near the source of the Ganga.  Dehra Dun seemed to be the obvious town.  On a survey trip, Tony, Rigby, Phil and DJ all knew we were meant to be in Mussoorie.

When we got to Mussoorie, we stayed in a little cottage at the top of the hill.  We spent lots of time praying about which part of the town to stay in.  It was very important for us to know exactly where we should set up our home.  One day, while praying, God spoke to Tony, “I am going to take you to a place where you will put your feet in water.”  His first response was, “Yay, outpouring of the Holy Spirit!”  When we saw the house “Ebenezer” we had a good feeling about it.  Within the first week of moving in, the house was flooded.  Tony was upset until God reminded him, “See, I told you I would take you to a place where you will put your feet in water.”  We had no doubt that was the perfect house for us.

It was a full, happy house.  Every room had seen much laughter and many tears.  Jordan and Rebecca had been born there.  The girls had started home schooling there.  Sarita and Jugdish had Angie and baby Joshua there.  Two years of training had run their course and many experienced the deep love of God in that house. 

We heard about a place in the forest near the Woodstock dormitories.  The only way to get there was through Dhobi Ghat.  It was a pretty little washer man’s village.  There were just a few houses and I was amazed to hear that most of Mussoorie’s laundry was washed by so few people.  There were hotel sheets and towels hanging on lines and covering every bush available.  Woodstocker’s branded clothing hung next to salwars and pajamas.  The dhobis looked a bit suspicious when we drove past them.

We parked our jeep next to the house at the end of the village and started walking.  There was no road access, just a narrow dirt path along the hill.  Five minutes later we passed a little farmhouse and were barked at by “Johnny” the big grey dog.  Fortunately he was tied up.

The house was up the hill,  to the left.  It was in the middle of nowhere, perched on a ledge, overlooking thick forest as far as the eye could see.  There was a balcony around three sides and the view was spectacular.   The house was locked, but we fell in love instantly. It was so perfect that we laughed when we thought about living there.  That was a sure sign it was going to be ours.