Home Is Enough: Finding Contentment Right Where You Are

As my family has grown, we have maxed out every square inch of our house. We put on an addition and reworked bedrooms. I have spent countless hours thinking through the best function for each and every cabinet in our kitchen.

There’s a quote hanging on our wall with lyrics from the chorus of Doug Stone’s song “Little Houses” all about how small homes are the places where love thrives.

For years those words were the balm I needed to feel like the space we had was great. The quote was a way for me to justify our tiny quarters, a way to quell my envy toward those with homes larger and more aesthetically pleasing than mine.

Maybe you have felt this way too.

What a Tiny Kitchen Taught Me

When I first moved to Charleston and became a part of a church, I remember getting invited to an Easter egg hunt with a bunch of ladies from the church. I was new and therefore didn’t know many people, but I was told we were going to “Meg’s house on James Island” and given the address. 

Meg was a mom of four, and her house was floor-to-ceiling bursting with life and chaos. But the kitchen is what struck me the most. Meg had a tiny kitchen. The cabinets were filled to the brim and there was barely enough counter space to make dinner, let alone space for an island and barstools. 

Around lunchtime, Meg prepared one of the best salads I have ever eaten. Lettuce reached the brim of the giant wooden bowl; there were pistachios and segmented oranges bursting with flavor. There was fresh avocado and the creamiest, dreamiest dressing I have ever tasted. It was heaven.

Take a Sledgehammer To It

I left Meg’s house with a new resolve to love my home and make it my own. I knew what she had created didn’t require a massive renovation or new furniture, but it did require work. She had to take a metaphorical sledgehammer to the standards of what her home was supposed to be and instead lean into what she wanted it to be. 

With this in mind, I started to focus more on how my home functioned than how it looked. I started to ask myself Is this working well for my family? instead of Does this look like the cover of a magazine? And slowly, as I worked to create a space that was unashamedly ours as opposed to what I thought home was supposed to look like, it became more lovely to me. 

From a House to a Home

The more we lived in our home, the more it reflected who we were and what we valued. My home felt like a hunk of wood I was whittling away, carving and scraping what didn’t work to make room for what did. The more I shaped it and made it my own, the more I began to love it. Over time, I became convinced that a home has to be loved to feel lovable. A house has to be used to feel like a home.

The more we use it, the more we love it; it is beautiful because it is used; it is lovely because it is loved.

Reflection

Think about the home you are living in right now. Not the home you wish you had. What have you been withholding from it—hospitality, decoration, joy—because it does not yet meet the standard you have in your mind? What would it look like to stop waiting and start inhabiting?

If this resonated with you, check out I Just Wish I Had a Bigger Kitchen by Kate Strickler for more honest reflections on home, contentment, and creating a space that truly works for your family.

Kate Strickler is the creator behind the extremely popular blog and Instagram account Naptime Kitchen. Known for her down-to-earth practicality and helpful household hacks, she’s been featured on Good Morning America, Southern Living, The Lazy Genius Podcast, and more. When she isn’t wrangling the kids or working, you can find her in her happy place: experimenting in the kitchen. Kate lives in Charleston, South Carolina, with her husband and their four children. Learn more at NaptimeKitchen.com.