by Rebecca

“Ah, we’re home! I love our house!”
“This is the best house!”
I was surprised and relieved to hear my children’s joy at being back in our little apartment. After a nine-month home assignment where we house-sat in a two-story house with a finished basement and fenced-in backyard, I wasn’t sure what our kids would think returning to our small, two-bedroom, single-bathroom apartment. While I was privately dreading tripping over each other and the lack of quiet spaces, I was comforted that this space was still our children’s safe haven.
During our language study in the capital, we made a trip out to our assigned city and were given a tour of the apartment that would become our home. I remember thinking, Did they forget we are a family of four? I spent too many hours dreading the move and worrying about how our family would live and thrive in such a confined space. A lot of prayer went into asking the Lord to give me his peace and grace to see my new home as a blessing, not a curse.
While my heart still pines for a bit more square footage, we have done a few things to make the space our own and make it work for our family. One of our resolutions as we prepared to move was to decorate as soon as possible and find furniture that maximized space and storage. Although the apartment came furnished—arguably over-furnished—we shopped on a Facebook Marketplace equivalent and found items that would be functional and suit our tastes. Early on, we borrowed a neighbor’s drill and hung pictures around the home—family photos and art that brought us joy and declared that this space was ours.
My husband loves to tinker and has a deep appreciation for things that work well. While others may opt to “put up with” things the way they are, my husband is always finding ways to make things work better. Overseas life has enough stressful elements that eliminating as much junk stress as possible feels like a worthwhile investment. He had a carpenter come and adjust doors that didn’t open and close with ease. He changed out the hardware in the bathroom to fix old, leaky fixtures and designed a bathroom vanity to replace our pedestal sink, affording us some storage and removing the constant fight of balancing four toothbrushes and hand soap on the small rim.
While in some places it may not feel like an option, our context gave room for choosing whether or not we wanted help around our house. And while there are great reasons to hire help, we opted to forgo it. A big part of this decision was due purely to the size of the apartment; it isn’t hard to keep clean. I also couldn’t fathom how we wouldn’t be in the way while another person was working, but the benefit that I had not anticipated was the sense of accomplishment I feel when I turn a messy house into a tidy one with clean counters and floors.
So much of the work we do doesn’t come with tangible results. It’s illusive and we offer our best and pray that it is making a difference in the spiritual realm. And yet, I think there is something beneficial to my—and maybe all of our—mental health when we have at least some tasks where we get to see the immediate fruits of our labor. Often I find, when I’m able to engage in the physical work of putting my house in order, my mind is free to think creatively and reflectively, coming away with insights into a problem or situation happening in that less-tangible realm. I find joy in maintaining our space for my family, a simple but satisfying task.
On the days that I feel overstimulated in our limited space or am tempted to be dissatisfied with our home, I remind myself that this is the place my children feel at home. It is the place that we are building our family and making memories together. While small, we have made it feel like ours, warm and welcoming to our friends and visitors while also being a sanctuary where we can steal away when needed. Someday, we will move on and leave these walls behind. My hope is that my children will remember not the square-footage of our house but, rather, the feelings of warmth, comfort, and joy they felt within its walls. Most days, that’s enough to help my heart embrace our abode.
Published at: velvetashes.com







