Meditation on an Empty House

This is for those who have lost their parents, emptied their house, closed their estate or just moved a lot. In my case it was the death of both parents this past Fall. They lived into their late 90s, in their own home and died within weeks of each other.

I was their executor — which, by the way, is a job with zero glamour or status because it entails an enormous amount of work.

It’s been a strange journey. One day they are in their house, surrounded by a lifetime of memories. The next minute they are gone, yet all their things are still in place. But then following the distribution of their possessions, we are left with an empty house that echoes when you walk through it. After that, the house goes on the market and is sold to total strangers. And life is just not the same after that: it’s a very sad day.

And yet, I also found this experience full of timely reminders.

1. An Empty House is Not a Home

First of all, houses often become very special — even sacred places for us, because of who is in them and what fills them. It’s where our parents lived, the pillars of our family. It’s where we gathered year after year, where we grew up, where spouses were first introduced, and grandbabies welcomed. It then took on the glow of a great grandparents’ home. Filled with more than 50 years of keepsakes, it was our “familiar place,” as comfortable to be in as a favorite pair of blue jeans.

But I’m now reminded that an empty house is not a home. It’s just not the same anymore. They are no longer there. Their possessions and keepsakes have all been passed on to someone else, given to Goodwill or tossed in the dumpster. It was all rather sobering. They took nothing with them! Emptying out my dad’s study, taking down and throwing out his diplomas and giving away his books reminded me that, as the psalmist said, “For when he dies he will carry nothing away; his glory will not go down after him.” (Psalm 49:17).

2. We All Have a Deep Longing For Home

Not only that, but houses, like bodies, wear out. We are all altered by time. In recent years there was a lot in disrepair that needed renovation. The luster of its youth was certainly gone.

Here’s another lesson. Getting the house ready for sale reminded me that we all have a deep longing for home. This is the theme of great literature, isn’t it? You’ll recall that it is the driving force of the ancient Greek classic The Odyssey. After the Trojan War, Odysseus spent 10 difficult years trying to return to Ithaca. It’s also a central emotional theme of the modern classic The Lord of the Rings. Frodo and Sam dream of going back to the Shire, to where they belong. This is even a biblical theme. Humans sense a deep longing to get back to the Paradise which was lost. Perhaps that’s why I like baseball so much — where the goal of the game is always trying to get home!

Some of us have moved so often that we keep wondering where our home is. But one thing is sure, we should never mistake any of our houses for a permanent dwelling. Or for that matter, any of our countries, either. Because none of them last.

In The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis writes, “Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.” Why? Because as Scripture says in the book of Hebrews, there is a kingdom that cannot be shaken, there is a city whose designer and builder is God. When Israel was on the edge of the promised land, right before entering, Moses reminded them that “the eternal God is your dwelling place.” (Deuteronomy 33:27).

3. New Generations Must Build New Homes

Finally, dismantling my parents’ home and selling the house reminded me that in the cycle of life, now it’s our turn to make homes of our houses — to provide havens of meaning and stability, built with love, memories and presence for our own families. That is what transforms empty houses. And that’s what makes the word “home” one of the most beautiful words there is.

In the end, empty houses remind us that our true home is not made of wood or brick, but of love, presence, and the eternal promises of God. We carry the memories forward, but we also step into the calling to build new homes filled with faith and grace. As we say goodbye to one season, we are invited to shape the next with hope. Because ultimately, our dwelling place is with the Lord—and He is preparing a home that will never fade.