I didn’t want insulation used in the tiny ceilings.
It cost more in both time and money, and studios shown on Pinterest didn’t use it (hello, white-washed beams). Need I say more? *wink*
But my husband, being the wise steward that he is, insisted. The hours spent writing + the depth to which I detest feeling hot = a quickly depleted electricity budget, so Brian dressed in his Oompa Loompa outfit and got to work.
You can see from the door color that he started this project months ago, one rectangle at a time. Now that the exterior is complete (except for my porch light), he’s oompa loompin’ right along.
I may not fully appreciate a prickly-pink shield around the walls and ceilings right now, but I know that day is coming. Stifling southern summers and bitter cold days will ensure this heart ends up grateful to the hubby who made it happen.
Receiving protection creates a grateful heart.
King David defined a grateful heart in Psalm 3:3:
But You, O LORD, are a shield about me, My glory, and the One who lifts my head.
When he wrote this, his son and former friends had turned against him. Some were saying there was no help for him from God because he didn’t deserve it. (2 Samuel 16:8) But it’s for this very reason that Psalm 3:3 sweeps our soul off its feet with the same excitement of a bridegroom carrying his new bride over the threshold.
I love this! David isn’t asking God to be his shield⏤he’s declaring that God is his shield. And in this truth, he finds rest, both spiritually and physically. (Psalm 3:5)
David doesn’t allow anyone or anything to cloud his confidence in God’s power of redemption.
He knows Whose he is, and that’s a shield of protection that no season in life, circumstance or person can penetrate.
Though the insulation will soon hide behind the walls, its protection will be evident in every season.
“…your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Colossians 3:3
May God’s power and protection be evident in every season of our lives as we declare that He is our shield!
Over a year ago, while stringing stakes and leveling blocks, Brian dropped this little love bomb:
You won’t believe how many things we’ll need to do before this tiny house is finished. It’s going to be a long process, possibly a year.
Bless his heart, he didn’t know how quickly southern girls could make things happen when they put their mind to it. Turns out, however, it wasn’t his heart in need of blessing.
The term “weekend warriors” should’ve given me a hint as to what the future held. Who knew it was code for slow and steady, with emphasis on slow? Apparently, Brian did. We entered the “over one-year” threshold in March.
After we finish up the exterior in April, we finally move indoors, where weather won’t determine our progress⏤but I’m not asking for Brian’s opinion. This heart can only take so many blessings.
After debating the choice of siding for several weeks, Brian landed on Hardi Board. We considered less expensive options, but we kept hearing great things about the product. It stands up well against bugs (a biggie for me – have you seen country creepers?), mildew (eww), and wind, which is a frequent visitor up here.
The gold-ish color above is the plank treatment, but after a few buckets of paint, she’ll be bright as snow, like the front porch below.
Soon, I’ll gussy up the front door with slaps of chartreuse, a color that’s sure to pop. And lastly, the porch will welcome a vintage metal chair in the same color, so as not to be out-popped.
{Subscribers! You’ll be the first to see the gussied up door in May’s Monthly Letter.}
foundation, siding, and roof. You taught us lessons we won’t soon forget. Few were fun, but they were necessary.
shiplap, vintage mantle, eight-foot-wide views, and cozy reading nook. I’ve patiently waited two winters, two springs, and one summer to spend time with you. I have a feeling we’ll become fast friends. Hint, hint.
Our Heavenly Father has provided many delightful inns for us along our journey, but he takes great care to see that we do not mistake any of them for home. C.S. Lewis
So, what color would you choose to paint the front door of this *tiny* delightful inn?
I love the idea of having a house by the lake⏤just not a tiny house.
When we chose the place where she’d perch, we took a lot into consideration⏤which direction to face, what views not to block, and how to prevent our galvanized roof from blinding our only neighbor. One thing we did not take into consideration, however, was the direction of the river that flows down the mountain behind us, over a berm, and directly by the tiny house.
Once the house is finished we’ll find a way to re-route the river in order to make way for the cottage garden that will include old-timey plants and an iron gate, Lord willing. But before I get too ahead of myself…
Our winter plan included finishing out the exterior by installing the soffits, corner trim, siding, and painting the front door. Brian managed to squeak in soffits and trim despite the downpours, but without a decent stretch of sunshine, the Tyvek continues to show and my front door still stands well-worn red.
Yet all is not lost. Inside the tiny house, wiring for electricity and insulation have begun and once the exterior is finished, we’ll move indoors full-time. Now that it’s lighter longer at day’s end, we’ll extend our weekend warriorship to an occasional weeknight.
Although the Ark-worthy rain has tested every ounce of our patience, it’s also set a simple but significant truth before us and that is the weather is completely out of our control.
And this realization prepares the knee to bow to God’s sovereignty.
Because here’s the thing. He knows the excitement that rumbles through my heart like a freight train at the thought of using this tiny place for His grand glory. Either I trust His timing or I don’t.
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.
Habakkuk 3:17-19 NIV
And I do.
So, this is usually the spot where I share the latest picture of our progress, but without any noticeable changes in the past several weeks, serious consideration was necessary for choosing a *tiny* picture for today’s post.
Okay, maybe not too serious.
Insulation Day
Oompa Loompa Doompa Dee Do…
Gotta love a man who dresses up Willy Wonka style to prevent bringing the insulation fibers into the house. Thanks, babe.
I realize that trusting God in the timing of a tiny house build is a small act of faith compared to what you might be facing today. If so, I welcome the opportunity to pray for you. Simply leave your request in the comment section below (so others can also pray for you), or feel free to email me confidentially using the envelope icon on the home page.
Thank you for sharing a few minutes of your day with me⏤it’s an honor.
Did you miss last month’s Tiny House Tuesday // A Tale of Two Gothic Windows?Check it out here.
Subscribers! Don’t forget to print out your spring/scripture inspired tags created just for you. It’s included in the March Monthly Letter from the Tiny House on the Hill.
Last April, before May floods meandered their way over the Swannanoa banks, we headed to the Antique Tobacco Barn in Asheville NC, in search of a Gothic window. We explored aisles of primitive ladders, glass knobs, and bird egg blue cabinets until we spotted the distinctive curve peeking over nearby antique relics.
Or should I say curves? Turns out, there were two.
We asked to buy just one, but the seller wouldn’t budge⏤purchase the pair, or nothing at all.
A Gothic window isn’t an easy find, especially on our budget, so we paid the money and skedaddled back down the mountain.
We decided the now two windows could bookend the tiny house. One in front, perched over the porch, and the other, nestled in the back. Because we were nowhere ready for installation, (which begs the question why did we go shopping for them in April?), we wrapped the windows in beach towels and leaned them on my great-aunt’s bed frame in the garage.
Finally, on a bitter cold day in January, we introduced the windows to their forever home. Brian, aka, my Genius, devised a way to frame the window without having to cut curved pieces of wood, saving valuable time, and dare I say, frustration. *wink*
Brian installed the first Gothic window over the front porch. Around the same time, we needed to decide where to install the split unit for heating and air. While compact and uber-convenient, the interior part of the unit takes up a bit more space than expected, leaving us with only two choices: mount the unit over the antique mantle, or on the back wall.
Let’s just say the mantle won.
I couldn’t imagine having a split unit hovering over the vintage mantle, especially when two lovely alternatives are vying for that space. The second window was returned to the garage until further notice.
If this weekend warrior is learning anything during the building process, it’s to be flexible and to always have a Plan B. Notice I said learning, as in, the struggle is real.
Now, the Tiny House on the Hill sits with the Gothic window in place⏤a space designed just for her.
To have a tiny space to call our own is good for the soul. It doesn’t have to sit on a hill out back. It can be as simple as a cozy corner in our home, a closet where we create, or a place in our garden where we meet with God.
“You’re my place of quiet retreat; I wait for your Word to renew me.”
Psalm 119:114 MSG
So, where’s your space⏤the place you go to create, rest, and recharge?
*Tiny subscribers, if you missed February’s Letter, you’ll want to check out the exclusive video of Brian installing the Gothic window.
It’s an invitation to come on over, take a seat, and rest awhile. It’s a saying my spinster great-aunts spun while rocking on the front porch that hugged their century-old home. Family, friends, and those strolling on the nearby sidewalk were invited to join them for conversation while they shucked corn and popped peas.
That was over forty years ago, but the charm of the front porch remains.
And it’s one of the reasons why I chose a Victorian style tiny house.
Turns out, our *tiny* front porch was one of the easiest projects to date. Or maybe it just seems that way because it came on the heels of the toughest. The best part of building the porch? Brian kept both feet on the ground and it was completed within a couple of Saturdays.
The porch floor was added earlier so searching for the right columns and roofing were our only to-do’s. Early on, I’d imagined columns with some heft to them. You know, the kind you can hold onto and swirl about? But since I swerve more than swirl these days, we decided to bypass that requirement and go for full-on character, which the smaller ones offered.
The porch roof was an interesting undertaking. My engineering husband put his skills to the test as he researched ways to build a slanted roof while making room for the Gothic window that will soon perch just above the porch. It was a happy day at the Baker’s house when he discovered a galvanized roof like the main one, but with deeper channels to keep the rain flowing in a downward direction.
Now all she needs is a bit of frill in the form of Victorian scroll work in the corners of the posts.
I doubt my *tiny* porch will offer enough space for the large wooden-slat rockers like my great-aunt’s way back when, but the door will always be wide enough for friends and family.
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