MF Lending

My brother is buying a house next week. I told him to do it.

I get this question constantly. On client calls. At Brekkie Club over iced coffee. From a guy at a bar who finds out what I do and leans in. Is it a good time to buy?

And every time, I’m aware of the thing nobody says out loud: I’m a lender. You know I’m a lender. We both know how I get paid.

So here’s a case where that doesn’t work on me. My brother. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong at Thanksgiving. I’m wrong at Christmas. I’m wrong at his kid’s birthday party for the next twenty years. That’s better accountability than any compliance department I’ve ever dealt with. I still said yes.

Here’s why, and here’s what to say when your clients raise the same two objections, because they will.

Yes, rates are high.

I know. Everyone knows. It’s the first thing out of every mouth and it’s been the first thing for four years.

When my brother and I sat down, the rate never came up. Not once. I didn’t pull up a chart. I didn’t tell him “it’s like the weather, dress for it”. I didn’t give him the temporary buydown “marry the house, date the rate” speech.

I looked at his file the way I look at any file, except I couldn’t lie to myself about it.

What does he have in the bank after closing? What happens if his company has a bad year? Is there a kid coming? How long until he gets the itch to leave? That’s it. That’s the whole conversation. Four questions, none of them about rates, and he had decent answers to all four.

The people in this city who are actually stuck right now aren’t the ones buying at today’s rates. They’re the ones who bought in 2021. The ones with the mortgage so cheap they can’t afford to leave it. A new job across town, second kid, divorce, whatever life does. Doesn’t matter. They’re not moving.

That rate everyone’s jealous of is a set of handcuffs, and more of Nashville than will admit it, is wearing them.

My brother won’t be. He’s buying with no illusions about the number. If his life changes, he can move. He’s not chained to a payment he’ll never see again. The person who bought at the bottom can’t say that. They’re praying nothing in their life changes.

So yes. Rates are high. He asked me the question once, and I told him the number doesn’t decide whether he should buy. It decides whether he can. He can. Next.

No, I don’t think the market crashes.

I wrote about this a month ago, so the short version. A crash needs forced sellers. People who have to get out. Nashville homeowners are the least forced sellers I have ever seen. Plenty of them want to move. Almost none of them have to.

And fine, say I’m wrong. Say it crashes. My brother still isn’t a forced seller.

Go look at everyone who owned a house in 2008 and didn’t have to sell. They sat there. They were underwater, annoyed, and they kept paying. Rates fell, they refinanced, values came back. The people who got wrecked were the ones who couldn’t carry the payment, or who needed to flip out of it to something shinier. If you can hold on, the decision to sell stays yours. That’s the whole game.

This house fits his life for five years. That’s the only forecast he needs to make. I don’t know how long this war lasts, where rates land, or what Davidson County values do in 2032. Neither does the guy on Instagram.

What I do know is that waiting for the dust to settle is the single most crowded trade in the city. The second it settles, everyone piles back in, and whatever edge you had for being early is gone. Then you’re waiting for the next lull to come back so you can “get a deal.”

That’s not a plan. That’s a loop.

So what do you say when your client asks? Because they’re going to ask.

Here’s the version that works at a kitchen table instead of in a newsletter.

Change the question. Ask the four questions before anyone opens a rate sheet.

What’s in the bank after closing. What happens if work has a bad year. Is there a kid coming. How long until the itch to leave.

If your client has real answers, the rate is a detail. If they don’t, no rate fixes it, and you’ve just saved them from a house they’d resent.

Say the word leverage out loud. Most buyers don’t know they have any. Walk them through what it buys right now: concessions, a buydown, a real inspection, an offer that isn’t one of twelve. Then tell them the truth. All of it evaporates the day rates drop. Waiting isn’t free. It just sends the bill later.

Put the rate in its place. The rate is one line on the closing statement. The house, the street, the price they paid, the neighbors: that’s the rest of the statement, and that’s the part they live in. Spend the conversation there. The rate is what it is today. What happens to it later is a conversation for later, not a reason to buy now.

Kill the crash question with one word. Forced. Ask them who in Nashville has to sell right now. Let them sit with it. If they can’t name the group, they just answered their own question.

My brother signs next Thursday. I’ll be in the room.