Embracing Manasseh

God’s plans are always greater than mine. Time and again, He leaves me in awe as I watch His purposes unfold—layer upon layer revealing themselves in ways my human mind could never design. This is part of the mystery and the adventure of serving such a great God. His ways truly are higher.

During our time in Africa, God continued revealing pieces of His redemptive story for the land. It began with property the missionaries had been led to purchase—not rent—including the home and surrounding outbuildings. Ownership mattered. Permanence mattered.

A Land Crying Out for Redemption

As we fasted and prayed, our prayer partners did the same. Prophetic words, Scriptures, and visions came. Confirmations followed. We moved forward in obedience, trusting the Holy Spirit to guide us—and correct us when needed.

We became confident that bloodshed had taken place on the land and that God was initiating a work of redemption. It echoed Genesis 4, where Abel’s blood cried out from the ground. We repented for the violence and the evil that had ruled the land for decades.

The Holy Spirit led us to specific locations and tangible items that needed to be removed, destroyed, or changed. We followed carefully and methodically—tearing things out, demolishing, burning, and disposing of the ashes in the stream.

Only then did God begin revealing a blueprint for restoration.

When the Details Matter

With an accounting background and years of DIY experience, we began what we believed would be a budget-friendly rehab. But as I sat in the Wendy Shed, I felt deep unrest and found myself weeping. Something was wrong.

I’ve learned that when I lose peace, I must pause.

With my journal in hand, I asked God for clarity—and He answered with details. Very specific details. He showed me paint colors (complete with numbers), trim, ceiling tiles, chair rail, furniture, pillows, storage bins, and even a coffee station.

Finally, He showed me a plaque with a new name.

This space would no longer be called the Wendy Shed.

It would be Manasseh House.

Forgetting the Pain of the Past

Months earlier, while walking through a difficult season, the Lord had reintroduced me to Manasseh. Joseph named his firstborn Manasseh, meaning “God has made me forget all my hardship.” It marked a turning point—a new season.

Manasseh House would serve the same purpose.

It would be a place where women—and the men who love them—could begin again. A space for counseling, healing, and freedom from the trauma of abuse. A house whose very name invited people to forget the pain of the past.

This project would not be built on a budget. It would be built according to God’s blueprint.

Provision Follows Obedience

When I went to purchase the paint, I saw the number 78 on the swatch—the same number God had given me earlier. Decision after decision came easily. God was providing exactly what He wanted.

Then donations began to arrive.

Within weeks, Manasseh House was complete—from flooring to ceiling, walls, furniture, and furnishings—every detail aligned with the original blueprint.

From Owners to Caretakers

The land, including Manasseh House, was being entrusted to new caretakers. When God gives me a specific word, I pay attention.

A caretaker is not the same as a caregiver. Caretaking carries responsibility—physical, emotional, spiritual, and financial. It comes at a cost.

Though the missionary family holds legal ownership, the land ultimately belongs to God. He was redeeming it—and inviting them to steward it as caretakers.

It was an invitation, not a command. They could decline.

But with caretaking comes a promise: the Owner covers the cost. When the caretakers ask what He wants done, He provides what is needed.

A Redeemed Space for His Glory

The land was cleared spiritually, restored physically, and placed under godly oversight and accountability. It would no longer be unattended.

It would be used for the Kingdom and for His glory.

This is a redemptive story—and it is only the beginning.

I cannot wait to share testimonies of women, men, and children who find healing and freedom within the walls of Manasseh House—a safe, holy space that truly invites people to forget the pain of the past.