How I found contentment crammed in a small house

Maybe you are living in a single bedroom apartment, maybe it’s your first house and feels temporary, maybe you have a growing family and want extra space, but it won’t happen for a couple of years. Discontentment can sneak up, steal joy, and paralyze us. We need proper perspective, a realistic strategy, and a dose of hope to be content in a small house, sometimes. At least that was my experience. 

I crept toward the precipice, nothing but horizon in my vision;

a brilliant blue sky marred with clouds like careless brushstrokes. A disorienting breeze blew hair across my face. I push one foot forward through the red dust of the canyon ridge, dragging the next one to join it. Leading with my feet, stretching my leg forward, my body leans the opposite direction, repelling me back to the guardrail.

Back to safety, back to sensibility.

My hands are cold and clammy. My heart pounding. I feel light headed.

I don’t trust my body. At any moment, I am sure it could hurl me over the cliff; uncoiling like a compressed spring and flinging me any direction my nervous energy explodes.

I just want to see how far down it is.

Maybe there is a ledge I could drop onto to.

It might not be that far, or that steep.

Maybe I could slide down.

I am desperate to know if I can get off this ridge, willing to doing anything, no matter how stupid it seems.

I hear a voice call to me. It sounds far away. I can’t bring myself to look behind me, I don’t trust my balance.  

I crane my neck forward but still can’t see the bottom. The bright sky and swirling wind are dizzying.

I crouch and sit down, scoot ahead a few more feet, and slowly droop my legs over the edge. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, ready to face the jolting scrapes of a rattling decent.

Instead, I am jarred and yanked backwards. My head thuds on the hard, dusty earth. Strong hands grasp my arms and hold me firmly.

A shudder runs through my body as reality bursts into vivid colour. What was I thinking?

This was my battle with discontentment.

Discontentment can overpower thought and reason. Crowding out any recollection of peace or happiness. Honing in on escape, rather than cost. It drains colour and fuels contempt.  

I find myself visiting this canyon every once in a while.

Perhaps when I perceive success coming easily to people around me, or when my children are bickering and everything seems to take so much more effort. Sometimes it’s when I spend more time admiring other people’s lives, rather than building my own. 

This time it was when life didn’t go according to my plan; my expectations.

Everything felt hard. Everything felt hopeless. 

I sounded a lot like a three year old throwing a tantrum; ready to scream- ‘No! I don’t like you anymore’, throw my cheerios on the floor, slam my head on the table, and cry.

Because, I didn’t like it anymore.

Stuck and frustrated, I wanted change. 

It does sound melodramatic, I agree. 

After all, there were no health crises, no bankruptcy, no relationship casualty. The only casualties were my expectations and desires, and they weren’t giving up without a fight.

I was struggling to be content in our small house.

We were living in a 680 sq ft house with no basement. Stepping through the front door into the living area, you would notice a half wall separating it from the kitchen, creating a nook for the kitchen table on the other side.

The kitchen had cabinets on two walls across from a disproportionately large, bright window. The living room and kitchen alone had three 3×3 foot windows, flooding the small space with natural light.

Off the kitchen, was a porch which housed the laundry room, furnace, pantry, and coat closet. Parallel to the main rooms were two bedrooms and a small bathroom sandwiched between them.  

The set up was extremely efficient. Bravo to the designer.

One over site, however, was that both the bathroom and the bedroom door opened out (rather than in, as typical doors do). If the bedroom door was opened and remained open, say, while someone was in the bathroom, that person would then be trapped inside the bathroom as the two doors would wedge together unable to be opened any further. I was rescued by a three year old, a number of times. Eventually, we installed a pocket door for the bathroom and it solved that problem.

Our little house, also had a little fenced yard and a single car garage. 

It truly had a lot going for it. 

When we first moved into the smaller house with two little toddlers, they easily shared a bedroom while mom and dad took the larger one.

As the years went on, we welcomed another son.

And another son.

And another son. 

For the majority of the years we lived in our small house, we had three boys in one bedroom with a triple bunk bed, the baby in the small room, and my husband and I had a Murphy bed that folded down in the living room, aka master bedroom (I fought this idea for so long! It was too weird to have our bed in the family room. How would this work?! Eventually, it became the most logical solution, we got rid of the coffee table, and it ended up being perfect). 

We had moved to this small home during my husband’s time as a university student to help us manage the financial burden.

That was 8 years ago.

We were now muddling through the process of buying a long desired acreage. Unfortunately, it was not going well. You can read more about the ups and downs of buying our ‘dream house’ here. 

There wasn’t anything on the horizon; no timeline heralding when things would change.

This was the point where I was creeping toward the abyss of ‘get-what-you-want-now-and-deal-with-the-consequences-later’.

I was ready to jump.

To toss every cent we had saved, leverage any equity we had, max out the credit card, and borrow money from family to get my ‘dream’ home- now!

Thankfully, my stable, sensible husband was holding onto my belt loops. 

But I wasn’t happy about it, at the time. 

However, my circumstances were not going to change anytime soon. 

But was I?

Could I be content in a small house?

I came to the realization that discontentment could continue to fester or I could make a choice.

Something shifted.

I decided I was no longer willing to sit on the sidelines and be a victim.

Ironically, that meant surrender. 

Surrender to God. Surrender to His embrace, His comfort, and His hope.

Trusting that He had a plan and no matter what happened or how it looked, I could find joy.

I could know peace in Him. 

I didn’t need an acreage or a bigger house, I needed perspective, vision, and hope.

An accurate perspective enables us to develop a realistic strategy to achieve our vision, which births hope and motivation.

Perspective

Truth, not feelings.

I looked a bit farther out my front door and realized even in our tiny house with one income, we were the 10% wealthiest people in the world. I don’t know poverty.

What was at the heart of my discontentment?

Was I feeling entitled? Concerned about what other people were thinking about me? Was I overwhelmed by other things in my life; things I could control like cleaning or bursting schedules? Was I afraid that I would never be able to attain the lifestyle I was dreaming about? Disappointment?  

The truth is:

I was living the dream. I was home with my little boys, enjoying slow days, savouring childhood, playing outside, reading snuggled on the couch, or crosslegged playing legos on the floor. Those simple days were bliss.

Don’t compare. 

Redefine ‘deserve’.

Now that I determined, hey, we have it pretty good, what could I do to address the pain points in my daily life?

Strategy to be content in a small house.

Declutter.

We began by simply storing so much stuff in the garage it was bursting. Just getting it out of our smaller spaces.

Then we got ruthless- sold items and had garage sales. Owning less stuff opened more floor space, made our home feel calm, and I spent less time cleaning. Don’t forget extra money in our pocket. It was a win-win. Do it on a regular basis. 

Removing visual clutter and keeping the counter space clear, was an easy way to make our tiny home feel larger. It was a catalyst helping me become content in a small house.

Make spaces work for you.

Many decisions were made with resale value in mind, but just as many were made solely because it served our family well.

We put in a large window in the porch that enabled me to see the whole backyard. We were able to give the little kids more freedom outside with the ability to keep a close eye and ear on them. Many people would have probably chosen more storage, rather than a window. 

Get creative, get efficient.

Every nook and cranny was purposeful.

The boys had a triple bunk bed built in their room. They loved it so much. They called it: The Eagle’s Nest and The Cave.

• Create storage space above a door frame.
• Utilize pocket doors.
• We installed a Murphy wall bed in the living room. You wouldn’t know it wasn’t a cupboard.
• Totes under beds provided extra storage.
• Seasonal items were packed away in the garage.

Address a space and give it a little make over with simple things such as a new wall colour, throw rug, and a book shelf. It doesn’t have to be a renovation. 

It was more manageable to accomplish with small rooms. They needed less construction material, less furniture. It was easier on the budget, except for the instance where we had to special order a tiny bathtub. Groan.

Creating a home that you enjoy and feel peaceful in, will go a long way to being content in a small house.

Be content in a small house, or content outside a small house.

Leisurely bike rides or a walk around the neighbourhood, became a routine that everyone looked forward to. 

Our backyard was small, but it was fenced. The boys played out there so much that the grass was trampled. Dead.  

One year we drove around a new area of town and picked up little scrappy pieces of sod from the garbage. Eventually, we had filled our mini van with rolls of crumbly soil. We eagerly tilled up the yard and puzzled together the pieces. It was dead by the next summer. 

Vision

If you are certain you are needing a change (and it’s not just a negative slump where everything feels awful and on fire)…

First thing, an honest conversation is required. 

Share your dreams; possible or seemingly impossible, brainstorm how you might get there.

Instantly, I could handle living in our tiny house more graciously because I felt heard and seen. All of a sudden, I was noticing the charming things I would miss. 

When we have movement, we can endure. It ignites hope. 

Hope

Focus on the positive.

Sometimes we need to force ourselves to take note of the good moments and celebrate the little things. Set an alarm, say what you are thankful for out loud, ask someone their favourite part of the day- everyday. 

We had some lovely neighbours, we were ten steps away from a park and spray pad, a few blocks from a cute library, and some friends from church. Those are wonderful things that I miss a lot! 

Remind yourself of the benefits of a smaller home:

• less cleaning
• cheaper to renovate
• more affordable mortgage
• smaller utility bills

Family togetherness

I always knew what my boys were up to and could quickly intervene when a situation was escalating. Sometimes we felt annoyed that we didn’t have space to ourselves, but with a little creativity we all found our own corner.

For the most part, everyone enjoyed being together. To be honest, I miss that now, it seemed easier to be engaged with one another. 

Perspective, strategy, hope.

It can springboard us out of any rut.

True contentment is a choice. It’s a heart posture.

Sometimes we find ourselves in situations that we wanted to avoid. 

We didn’t think life would turn out this way. 

It’s natural to want to complain. Instead write it out in your journal.

I realized that God could handle my anger and he could also lead me by the hand into more peace. 

As much as I am a cheerleader for chasing after your goals and making them happen, first do some soul searching and find contentment. It will steer you clear of desperate, dumb decisions.

Slowly back away from the ledge of the canyon.