Surprised at the Desire to Downsize

Our family is moving this spring. 

Scratch that. Our family is hopefully moving this spring. 

Moving has always been something that lives at the forefront of my mind. When we bought our house, it was never with the intent to remain there until we died or became too old to care for it properly. It was always supposed to be a stepping stone. We bought it for $30,000 as a foreclosure in a great school district, and we planned to do all sorts of work (which we did) and then move on to something else. 

Fast forward eleven years. 

We are still at this house. We first added two dogs (one of whom, sadly, passed away last August), then two children (June 2011 and June 2013), and we are still there. During our tenure in this home, we went from newly employed (Shawn) and in graduate school (me) to no longer employed (Shawn - stay-at-home dad/freelance graphic artist and web designer) and tenth year of teaching (me - how did that happen???). But we are still at this house.

This is not for lack of trying, either on our part or on the part of our most amazing realtor, Joelle. We first listed in 2007, during the real estate craze, and we were certain we would sell. We almost did. Then they backed out. So we didn't. 

Then we listed again. And we got an offer! And a contract! And then they couldn't actually get a mortgage. Burn. 

Then we listed again. And we got an offer! And a contract! And then they couldn't actually get a mortgage either. Burn again. 

Honestly, after this point, it gets a little hazy. I think that we only listed three times, but there may have been a fourth. Point is: we have not been able to sell our home. Not for lack of interest. Not for lack of bid-putting-in parties. Just because it hasn't happened yet. 

I know that this prevention is from God. I just never knew why. But I have come to the point of reckoning where I trust Him in this matter. Not perfectly. Sometimes I begin to fret a bit. Sometimes I become fearful that we will always be in this house, that we will never get to move to something that has a bit more open space, a bit more seclusion. But then I know that I just have to trust. He sees it all, He has his reasons. 

So, anyway, we are listing our house in a few weeks for the fourth time. And, for the first time ever in the search for our next home, I am looking at small houses. 
  
I always found small houses annoying. Fine for newly married couples, fine for retired people, fine for families with just one child. Fine for many people. Just not me. 

I wanted expansive spaces: a large, sweeping kitchen, spacious living room, expansive dining room that could easily entertain both of our extended families (probably close to 40 people, combined), big bedrooms that would be a master retreat for us and places of sanctuary and imagination for our children, large bathrooms, a laundry room, a pantry. And outside: at least one barn, acres and acres of land, porches, large trees. Everything I had ever imagined. 

Now that Shawn is a stay-at-home dad and my salary is our sole means of steady income, this looks less and less appealing. In fact, it's completely unrealistic. Homes like that are great for people who have the money - or want to spend the money - on their maintenance. Even the idea of entertaining dozens of people at a time is a large expense in and of itself. 

I have come to the conclusion that I don't want to use our resources toward these ends. I want a smaller house. A house where we are cozy, where it isn't so difficult to heat, where the children want to spend time outside and make the yard and trees their playground instead of retreating to separate, giant rooms. I want us to be able to be close - not only emotionally, but physically. I want to feel tucked in at night. I want to be forced to purge our lives of the extra stuff that so easily becomes a regular part of who we are. I'm ready to move past the past dreams because now they would be burdens. I want to want only what I need. 

I think God has provided this heart-change in me. He knew that if we sold our house earlier, my sights would be drawn to something of this world, something that would require a great amount of fortitude in order to remain humble - fortitude that I don't possess. In a small house, my heart can't become so easily blurred by my real estate. Instead, I can see it being more of a daily reminder of God's provisions. 

It still remains to be seen whether our house will sell this time, either. It may not. We may spend another year or two or five in our house in the village. But, if it does sell, I want to cling to these new thoughts and pray that they become engraved on my heart. Because I always, always want to live in a spirit of appreciation - never pride. And only God can make that happen.