December 4th, 2025
“Reframe” - By Casey Murano
Your House May Be Falling Apart
By Casey Murano
“Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came,
and the winds blew and buffeted the house.
But it did not collapse; it had been set solidly on rock.
And everyone who listens to these words of mine
but does not act on them
will be like a fool who built his house on sand.
The rain fell, the floods came,
and the winds blew and buffeted the house.
And it collapsed and was completely ruined.”
Photograph by Casey Murano
How do I engage this parable that equates strong faith with a sturdy, unshakeable house when my physical homebase is about to change locations? What does it mean to be solidly on the rock when my time at Bethlehem Farm–the intentional Catholic community where I’ve lived for the past three years–is coming to a close this Advent season? When the rhythms and habits I’ve built in this dwelling place are slipping away, making room for a new structure to emerge, what does it feel like to still have a strong foundation?
Jesus’ essential message here - to hear the message of discipleship and actually act on it - applies to situations where the foundation isn’t looking too sturdy. The way Hurricane Helene devastated Appalachian communities is a good reminder. Sometimes, houses that aren’t even near sand are still at risk of disaster. And we might see the most inspiring acts of faith in the aftermath, as neighbors come together to rebuild what was ruined.
It’s also interesting to think about this story in relation to some of the homeowners I’ve worked with through Bethlehem Farm’s low-income home repair program. Take Carol for instance. Since she and her husband built the house themselves 30 years ago, the rain fell, the winds blew…and then water trickled down the rafters and leaked through the drywall, making the plywood soft and mushy to the point that a volunteer almost fell through the moldy floor. The structure where she spends her days is actively collapsing.
Things were admittedly out of square from the beginning, but does the state of her physical dwelling place indicate that she is like the fool?
Her daily works of mercy say otherwise. She does what she can, attentively taking care of her grandkids along with a menagerie of horses, chickens, goats, turtles. “You know when an animal is treated well or abused,” she says.
On the last day of the worksite, she gave me an angel ornament as a reminder of her daughter who had recently died. She expressed deep faith and gratitude; she believes her daughter is still watching over us. This Advent season, you also may be in some kind of place of transition. Your house may be falling apart, in the spiritual and/or physical sense. And that’s okay. Wherever you are and in whatever state, there are opportunities to care for and be cared for by neighbors. That’s where you’ll find true wisdom.
Casey Murano is a visual artist based in the Appalachian Mountains who creates drawings and practices of pilgrimage. You can learn more about her work at www.caseymurano.com.