My Home and My Heart
By Bethany Smith
Photography by Kym VdP
It all started when I was 10 years old. I jumped off the school bus and bolted into our family home like a dog let off its leash. Today I was getting my own bedroom! I raced into my new space and felt the joy, the freedom, the possibilities of what I would do to make it my own. I could decide how I would decorate it, look after it, and who would be invited in. Little did I know as I revelled in my ocean-themed bedroom those early years that my desire for a little corner of the earth that I could call my own would cause such a battle in my heart for years to come. Although my room was a safe haven and an outlet for creativity, it also revealed the selfishness and pride in my heart.
I still have to answer those same questions about my space. How do I set it up? How will I maintain it? And who do I invite in? And though the questions are the same the answers have changed along with my homes, circumstances, priorities and preferences. (To everyone’s relief, my hot pink phase ended with high school, though the bedroom walls in my parents home still bear the scars!) There have been share-houses, there have been dorms, there have been units, and now there is a house. I have just moved again–the 11th time since I moved out of my parents place at 18–and I love it! Excitement always finds its way into the moving boxes.
I love the challenge of making a new space work and the satisfaction of finding the perfect furniture arrangement or storage solution. Inevitably, there is also some sadness that comes along with each move as I process the griefs, sometimes big, sometimes little, of what has been left behind. But the other thing that keeps moving with me, regardless of where I am moving to or from, or the type and size of my space, is my sinful heart, full of selfishness, pride, comparison, envy, discontent, and greed. For me, these are part and parcel of homemaking. As the years go on I have grown more alert for these sins in my heart and more willing to deal with them, but it is a battle.
As I address this sinfulness, especially as it resurfaces in the wake of another move, I have been helped by remembering some of the things people have shared with me over the years.
Someone once confided that their home was their idol. I had been admiring it and she said “don’t stroke it!” At the time I was newly married and between rentals and didn’t think I was in danger of the same–surely it was only a struggle for home-owners! But her little comment–her warning–stuck with me because it did resonate. I realised that it was my struggle too. And I think that’s because my homes have been, or over time have become, a really important space to me, almost as if they were a part of me. This is especially true nowadays as I spend a lot of time at home as a full-time mother. Whether I like it or not my home is the one space that has my stamp all over it. The decisions I’ve had to make about couches or kitchen appliances reflect my preferences. The way I organise and clean my house says something about the sort of person I am and that I’m not. And the people that come through the door reveal something about how and with whom I do community.
My home is set up in a way that best suits me and my family. It’s where I feel most relaxed and safe. I enjoy being in it. What it looks like and how it feels is justifiably important. But it can become too important. So I have a couple of little diagnostic tests for myself. When my kids inevitably smear sticky fingers on the couch or run sand everywhere, I notice how I am responding to their behaviour. If it isn’t with patience and gentleness then I consider if that’s because I am more invested in maintaining our furniture than using it for its intended purpose. And if I am tidying or rearranging for guests to arrive then I ask whether I’m doing it for their comfort or for my own; is it because I care too much what they might think of the space and therefore of me?
As I keep alert to the danger of idolising my home I am particularly thankful for the directness of the command in Matthew: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matt 6:19-20a). I love to make a space my own, but there are more valuable treasures.
Someone once assured me that God always provides. At the time our family had outgrown our lovely little villa–despite major efforts to maximise storage and minimise possessions–and we didn’t know what would be next. It was hard to trust God’s provision because I knew that he doesn’t always provide on my terms. There was one time when I was searching for a sharehouse for a worryingly long stretch of time that I just got fed up with God’s timing. And there have been a couple of times when the layout of the space or the housemates within it didn’t quite work and I was grumpy with God’s chosen blessing. No matter where I’ve lived I have always found things to grumble about: “if only it was a touch bigger”, “had just one more room”, “was more like what she has”. In God’s kindness he always resolves these challenges, but usually through a change of my own attitude and expectations. God always provides, but he has taught me it’s not always on my terms.
Nevertheless, I am still learning, and re-learning, to take a proper look at my situation. Even just a fleeting glance reveals the roof over my head and the food on the shelf and I know just how blessed I am to be here at all! I am still learning to trust God’s provision, to trust his goodness, and to be thankful. It’s shameful, really. Am I not rich with worldly possessions? Am I not safe and fed and clothed? I continue to find Matthew 6 a great comfort: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matt 6:26-27). Our Father loves us and considers us valuable. He knows what we need and he takes care of us according to his perfect wisdom.
Someone once told me that I’m allowed to have a tidy house when guests arrive. Well, that was a shock! But it was also liberating. At the time I lived somewhere small enough that it was easy to keep clean, and necessary to keep it tidy (if I wanted to be able to move around!). And at times I had actually felt self conscious about it being clean and tidy at risk of seeming unauthentic! But the comment gave permission for personality to play its role in the process of homemaking. Those aren’t my circumstances anymore; now I have enough space to accommodate some mess, but the truth remains helpful. I’m allowed to consider the aesthetic of our home. I don’t have to buy second-hand every time. If I want, I am allowed to pick up the toys before guests arrive so they can have a calmer experience. I don’t have to leave some out intentionally to seem authentic. But when it’s untidy, that’s fine too; it can set guests at ease in a different way. More than all this, I am allowed to be different from others and others can differ from me. They can be more or less organised, cleanly, DIY, thrifty, extravagant, and the list goes on. There’s no need to compare and feel disheartened, or compare and feel proud. Wise and godly homemaking takes many shapes.
So, as I take stock of the advice I’ve received over the years and the blessings God has bestowed upon me, I know that what matters is that I consider where I’m putting my time, energy, money, value, and worth. It matters that I am checking my heart, my motivations, my dreams and choosing to be thankful. But I am also free to enjoy tending to my corner just as I did as a little 10-year-old.
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Bethany Smith— Regular Contributor
Bethany grew up on the South Coast of NSW, moved to Sydney for university, and met her husband, Matt, while studying at Moore Theological College. They moved to Perth in 2020 to share the gospel with university students at UWA. They’ve since had three children who she spends her days with, caring for and discipling in the Lord Jesus. Bethany enjoys reading, exercising, baking and attempting to keep her plants alive.