This Old House

On my regular walking route, there’s an intriguing house I’ve passed hundreds of times. I’ve always believed it has great potential. It features a mid-century modern design with plenty of character, but I could tell it had been neglected and needed some TLC and attention.

Today, I noticed that the front door was wide open and there were two work trucks parked out front. When I looked inside, I was surprised to see that a full-scale renovation was underway! The floors and walls had been gutted, and a new layout was being created. It brought me joy to see such a significant transformation taking place, knowing that new life was being breathed into that space. 

As I continued my walk, I reflected on the renovation. From the outside, a casual passerby wouldn't notice anything unusual happening. If you were just driving past, you’d have no idea of all that was taking place within those walls. To truly appreciate the updates, one would need to knock on the door and spend some time inside that home. 

It reminded me of how the inner work of salvation, through the daily pursuit of patience, peace, and humility, isn’t showy or necessarily obvious to a casual passerby or observer. The countless little deaths to our pride and expectations, the practice of restraint, the softening and expanding of our hearts, break down walls built up in our souls, reconfiguring the layout. Inner work doesn’t shout or drape itself in flashy banners announcing “New and Improved” to the masses. Instead, its effects are subtle and accumulate over time, usually felt most deeply by those closest to us—those who’ve known us at our best and worst and everything in between.

Our co-workers will see it reflected in our work ethic and collaborative spirit. Our local community members will notice it in our warm eye contact, encouraging words, and acts of kindness. Our families will experience it in our readiness to forgive and apologize, our willingness to listen attentively rather than lecture, and our regular habit of expressing gratitude rather than grumbling, complaining, or assuming the worst.

It may sometimes feel as though our daily efforts to tame the ego and calm the chaos within aren’t doing much to save the world or make a difference. But think about when you’ve been a guest in someone’s home, and from the minute you walk through the front door, you feel fed by beauty, hospitality, peace, and edifying conversations. What a gift that is! So restorative and nurturing, like water being poured on parched soil. 

Returning our focus to this home, this neighborhood, this family, this parish, this present moment reveals an abundance of opportunities to become a healing presence right where we are. May all who enter our hearts and our orbit leave a little better, a little lighter, and a little more hopeful and inspired than we found them.