by Cathy Baker | Faith, Tiny House |

Do you see it?
Squinting may be required but the end of our building journey is in sight. Somebody pinch me.

Brian continues to work tirelessly to finish the tiny house because he loves me, but also because he believes God has His own plans for glory through the writing, shared community, and joy that will take place within this 144 square foot space.

WordPress experienced a hiccup when the last Tiny House Tuesday posted, so if you missed When Two Littles Love a Little Loft, you can catch it here. In it are pictures of the reading nook/loft area in all of its skeletal beauty…that is, until now.
Since that post, Brian built steep narrow steps that lead to the loft seen above. Because the loft floor is the reading nook’s ceiling, both measure the size of a regular twin mattress, but the pitched roof creates a roomier feel. Can all six grandkids fit up here? Yep, as long as they like to cuddle, and I happen to know that’s one of their superpowers. A fluffy rug is ready to roll once the floor is painted.

As you can see, Brian has done quite a bit since last month. The nook’s exterior wall is drywalled and we’re currently installing shiplap to the interior, with a slick coat of seafoam green to soon follow.
Look up and you’ll spot an unassuming piece of plywood attached to the loft wall. But its purpose is mighty! It will hold our split unit, providing cool air in our sweltering summer months, and heat when fall folds into winter.
The second Gothic window was set to go in the split unit’s space but we soon realized the unit had only two choices of where it could it go, the loft or over the antique mantle. Need I say more? I miss not having the second window in the back but it’s just one of many ways I’m learning to be flexible along this journey.

The view from inside the reading nook facing the steps.
And then there are tiny moments like this that offer pure delight.
The space beneath the stairs caught my eye, and all kinds of creative, crazy ideas began to bubble to the surface. Perhaps it could be a drop-box for the kids to crawl in and under, or the top step could latch, creating a place to drop my broom and other necessities. The list goes on, but a hidden bookcase was the clear winner. I mean, what good is a reading nook without a place to store our favorite books?
And finally, if you missed the picture of the tiny house being lit up for the first time in its 1+ year journey, check it out on Instagram. It’s something to behold, trust me. When we purchased the Gothic window, an aged opaque diamond-patterned adhesive covered the glass. We went back and forth, trying to decide whether to leave it as is or scrape it off. In the end, we chose to leave it. The long-awaited image of softened light beaming through the old church window at night is now a reality.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. It will not end once the building is complete. In fact, it’s just the beginning. Instead of building projects, we’ll share what God is doing inside the studio and ways you can join in the fun.
If you’ve not yet subscribed to The Tiny House on the Hill, now’s a great time to join our community! You’ll receive a “Spot God Every aDy” calendar, bonus information, and bi-monthly posts sent directly to your inbox. Simply type your email address in the top sidebar under “Join Our {tiny} Community.” It’s that easy.
For those who’ve been on this journey for a while, I’d love to know your favorite project. If you’re just joining, which of the above projects — the steps, the loft, the nook, or the hidden bookcase — do you like the most?
Thanks for stopping by and taking a minute to share. You’re the best! 🙂
by Cathy Baker | Faith, Tiny House |

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!
by Cathy Baker | Faith, Tiny House |
Come sit a spell.
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.
The left image is from November’s Tiny House Tuesday, and the right is December’s. Oh, the difference a porch (and door!) can make.

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.
So come sit a spell, won’t you?
