Love Grows in Little Houses

I've noticed an interesting trend during the past decade or two.  Houses keep getting bigger and bigger while families keep getting smaller and smaller. 

With the recent bubble and crash in the real estate market, I think more people are re-considering how much house they really need . . . a kind of less is more mentality. 

The size of our homes doesn't really matter.  What matters is the size of our hearts.  Years ago, my husband and I were absolutely thrilled with our first new home.  It was one of those manufactured dwellings built off site then shipped down the freeway to your building lot in two halves - pretty much a double wide trailer in size. 

This home felt like a castle to us.  Our previous place of residence was in a run-down hundred year old apartment with no bathtub and lots of mice.  I used to tape pictures above my kitchen sink and pretend I could see out because there were no windows.

When we finally moved into this home of our own, it felt like we were living like royalty.  Every morning I could look outside through windows and I was able to bathe my two babies in a real bathtub.  We had seven beautiful children fill our lives with joy in that house.  I'm sure we were living below the poverty level but we didn't feel poor.  Where there's love  . . . you always have enough. 

When we found out number eight was on the way, we didn't have any more floor space for another bed so we had to look for a larger house.  Then number nine and ten came along.  But I will always remember my first little house with great tenderness.  You see I know for myself that loves grows in little houses.  And where God sends his little lambs . . . green pastures follow.