Dreams of the Big and Small Varieties

If you've traveled with me very long at this blog, you know that I do have a fond affinity for houses. If there's a marathon of...well, anything...on HGTV, I'll be watching and coaching from the couch. While normal people spend their free time on Facebook or Pinterest, I spend mine on the realtor app. I've been known to take the long way home from just about anywhere so I can drive by "that one house." If I had my way about it {and I didn't need naps} I would spend every single Sunday afternoon traveling around town attending open houses.

And yet I fear that if left to my own devices, I would be a realtor's worst nightmare, because I truly have no common love when it comes to a house. {This is where Ryan will have to step in and be our voice of reason if and when it ever becomes our turn to create or move to a new Shafferland.} I have fallen madly and deeply in love with lofts in the middle of a city, trailers {not cottages, but actual TRAILERS} by the lake, tiny bungalows that would make furniture placement a game of serious strategy, and sprawling mansions that would make the most perfect B and B.

Obviously I have no idea what God has planned for our future. {If He's mentioned anything to you, can you give me a jingle and clue me in, please? Thanks!} But dreaming can't hurt, right? So today I've pulled my two most opposite dreams together into one blog post.

The Tiny.

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Oh yes. I watch the Tiny House Hunters show on HGTV. And most of the time, truthfully, they're too tiny for me. I love Ryan and pretty much anytime we are home together, we're in the same room, but there's something slightly claustrophobic to me about not having another room to CHOOSE to go into, should I need just a moment.


But now and then, there's something really appealing about a small house. I mean, after all, it's just the two of us. Three, if you count Braeya, but she usually sits ON one of us, so even she doesn't require extra square footage. When I think about the small house, I think about all the time we could have to do {insert idea of the moment here} because we don't have to spend that time cleaning or maintaining the space. I think of cozy. I think of writing. I think of freedom when I think of tiny. Less stuff, more time.

And because around here, anyway, there aren't a ton of tiny houses in locations I would deem very safe, there's always the additional dream of creating this home for ourselves. Of building it and being able to blog about all the fun things we found here and there for next to nothing, and together they made our home. Of being able to walk a visitor through every square inch of the space {which wouldn't take long since there wouldn't be many of them} and tell them the stories of how each detail came to be.

The Huge.

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I do not want a big house just for us. I used to think it would be grand to have a home that was virtually a city within itself. A workout room and an office, a home theater and a pool. Then I realized it had to be cleaned. {And yes, I know, if you can afford a home like that, you can afford to hire someone to clean it. But still.}


But there is a little part of me that has always loved the dream of a B and B. Yes, I know there are horror stories {I've read the blog posts} of havoc created by guests, but I still think the idea is charming. The first time I ever stayed in one, five years ago, I arrived while the innkeeper was still getting my room ready, and I sat on the couch and talked her ear off about how she got into the industry, and when I got ready to check out the next day, I talked her husband's ear off about his own story. And I loved it. I felt like I had new friends...and I still remember their names.

I think Ryan and I would make good innkeepers...and there's still that seed of a dream that one day, we'll encounter the money to buy such a place and make it ours. Make it a Shafferland to share. A place to offer rest to the weary and love on their hearts while they stay.

And on the flip-side of that, when I worked at the station, I interviewed an author whose book told of a season in her life when she lived in community. When she was a roommate with a couple of families who pooled their resources of finances and giftings and lived together. They shared the meals and the work - and the fellowship - and supported one another in the journey. And while I fear I might miss my privacy, there's also a part of me that thinks having a big house to be able to share it with others, not as income, but just as life...would be a beautiful thing.

And in both these versions of the big dream, it's the stories that captivate me. It's being able to share and knowing that in the sharing, there are stories and lessons to be learned.

Hmmm...come to think of it, it was all about the story in the small dream too. So maybe I do have more of a common thread in the house dream than I knew. It's in the story. After all, for me, it always comes back to the story.