In 1982, during a time of rising rental prices due to the Knoxville World’s Fair, our family was blessed with an incredible opportunity. Oak Circle, a grand two-story home built in 1903, stood empty on a beautiful eleven-acre property. With its wraparound green porches, oak-shaded yard, and rustic charm, it seemed too perfect to be true. Through a coworker, we connected with the executor of the estate, and, unable to sell the property, he agreed to rent it to us for less than our current home—just as our rent was set to triple. It felt like a divine answer to prayer.
Moving in with our children, ages four and nine, felt like stepping into another time. The house, though old, was spacious and inviting, and the kids were thrilled to explore its many quirks, like hidden doors and panels. Summers were cool thanks to the hilltop breezes, and winters, though more challenging, brought memories we’ll never forget. During one rare snowstorm, a friend delivered kerosene heaters that kept us warm as we camped in the bedroom, eating soup and popcorn. What could have been a difficult season became an adventure.
Yet Oak Circle had its mysteries. One day, while updating my husband’s trucking business address at the courthouse, the clerk leaned in and asked, “Do you know it’s haunted?” I laughed it off, but she insisted, sharing stories of past residents reporting strange occurrences. When my son overheard and asked, “Do you mean ghosts?” I quickly reassured him: “We have Jesus and His angels watching over us. You never have to be afraid when you have Jesus.”
But soon, odd things began to happen. A strong fishy odor started wafting from the attic—not a typical musty smell or the scent of an animal, but something unexplainable. My husband checked the attic and found nothing, yet the smell would come and go. Then, one stormy night, I was jolted awake by the sense of a presence in the room. Though I dismissed it as my imagination, the unease lingered.
The most vivid moment came in a dream that felt more like a spiritual attack. I saw a dark, looming figure standing over me, heavy and oppressive. In the dream, I cried out, “Jesus Christ is my Savior!” Instantly, the presence vanished. I woke with peace and assurance that no matter what forces tried to disturb us, the power of God is greater.
The strangest incident occurred during another thunderstorm. My son cried out, and I ran upstairs to check on him, only to find him sound asleep. His room, however, was alive with activity—every electronic toy had turned on. Robots marched, sirens blared, lights flashed, and music played. We told ourselves it must have been the storm, but deep down, we knew it was something more.
These moments might have been frightening, but our faith in God sustained us. As 2 Timothy 1:7 says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
Through prayer and scripture, we claimed our home as a place of peace. I often recited 1 John 4:4: “Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.” Whatever shared that space with us could not overpower the Holy Spirit’s presence.
Oak Circle was more than its mysteries. It was a place where my children thrived, where we laughed, loved, and built lasting memories. My daughter cheered on football teams, and my son started first grade, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of family.
One day, long after we’d left Oak Circle, we came across an old photo of the house. In the upstairs window, between my children’s bedrooms, a faint figure appeared. None of us had been home when the picture was taken. Was it a trick of the light or something more? We’ll never know. But what we do know is that Oak Circle was protected by a greater presence—the presence of God, who watched over us and filled that house with peace.
When my promotion took us to Nashville, my son, especially, was heartbroken to leave. Yet we carried with us the lessons we learned there: that God’s faithfulness is constant, His protection unwavering, and His love greater than any fear.
“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15).
And serve Him we did, with every prayer spoken and every laugh shared within those walls. Oak Circle will always remind us that God can take even the mysterious and the unexplainable and weave them into a story of faith and courage.
Through our time at Oak Circle, we learned that perfect love truly does cast out fear (1 John 4:18). We experienced firsthand the promise of Psalm 91:1-2: “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’”
Looking back, Oak Circle wasn’t just a house—it was a testament to God’s provision, protection, and faithfulness. It remains a symbol of His power to bring peace and purpose to every season of life, even those touched by mystery.
