Why I loved my tiny house

Almost seven years were spent in the little house on the hill. People made comments sometimes, wondering that we could ever live in such a tiny place. Usually their comments only lasted as long as they were driving-by and talking. Once they came inside, they shushed up right quick.

My husband had taken a little run-down pigeon barn and fashioned a cozy, warm homestead.

Between the towering recycled dance-floor ceiling, the wall-sized windows, the golden-cherry cupboards, and the hand-crafted staircase– most people just turned around with eyes wide open when they stepped inside.

It was beautiful. And I loved every single minute we lived there.

Yes, sometimes the space was crowded. But, unlike what most people seem to think, we did not move into a larger house last month because we wanted more space. We moved because God opened the doors for us to work at a job that would hopefully benefit our family in the long-run and would bless dear friends of ours in the meantime.

This subject has been on my mind for awhile because people keep mentioning how we must be “so happy” to have moved. We are! But not because we felt discontent with our house.

In fact, as I read my Scripture verses this morning, I felt the truth settle again.

In 1 Timothy 6 Paul says,

But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content.

To be honest, I’m not always good at this. I was discontent for years with our lack of children. I’ve been discontent with my body, my money, my possessions. But for some reason, I was always content with our home. Perhaps because it was warm and soft and the place my husband built for me with his own hands– but I think, also, because I knew, deep-down, that nothing in a home would bring me contentment if my heart was bent on discontentment.

American society says we need bigger houses, more space, better furniture, faster computers, nicer iphones.

But God says, “Godliness with contentment is great gain.”

It’s normal, society will say, to work towards nicer things and prettier clothes and better vehicles.

But God says, “It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs.”

Whenever I think of our tiny house, I realize the thing I loved most about it is this: it was there, in that 18×24 space, with the washer and dryer in the corner of my bedroom because that’s the only place it fit, and the living room that only had space for one love seat, and the kitchen that I was loathe to share because I would step on whoever wanted to help me, that I learned one of life’s most important lessons. Contentment is a decision. 

• Contentment with my house (and the ability to see all the beautiful things about it!).
• Contentment with my husband (and the chance to fall in love with him, day after day after day!).
• Contentment with my family (even if it was only-ever just the two of us!).
• Contentment with whatever God had for me– for He is always working out good for those who are called according to His purpose.

It was all a choice. One I had the chance to make every single day.

But as for you, O man of God, flee [discontentment and the love of money]. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.