Yoder: The Basement House

By Kathy Yoder

As a child, I passed a curious sight in my small town: a “basement house,” just a concrete foundation with a flat roof, home to a family living below ground. It wasn’t a house in the way I knew houses, with windows catching the sun or porches welcoming neighbors. It was simply a basement, capped like frosting on a cupcake, part of the landscape I accepted without question. Years later, returning to that town, I saw a full house standing where the basement once stood. The transformation startled me. When did they build it? Did they save for years, dreaming of walls and windows? Did pride swell as they stepped out of the basement into a completed home? Those unanswered questions faded as we moved away, but the memory lingered, tucked into a quiet corner of my mind.

Decades later, as an adult, I saw another basement house. Bare and unassuming, it stood in a field, its concrete walls barely peeking above the earth. Over time, I watched it change. First came chairs outside, set on the flat roof as if the family was claiming the world above. Then, slowly, walls rose, windows sparkled, and siding bloomed in a soft, hopeful color. Now, you’d never know it was once just a basement. Its beauty shines brighter to me because I witnessed its humble beginning and its remarkable transformation.

Those chairs were the first sign of dreaming. I imagine the family sitting there, gazing at the stars, seeing not just a basement but a home complete, vibrant, alive. They saw the front door they’d walk through, the windows they’d open to let in the spring breeze. They smelled the seasons drifting through a living room not yet built. That vision fueled their building, for without vision, there is no progress. As Proverbs 29:18 declares, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” Just as those families dreamed of homes rising above their basements, God calls us to envision a fuller life with Him. A life built not on earth’s foundations, but in our hearts.

I once lived in a basement of my own, though it wasn’t made of concrete. Years ago, I found myself in a season of spiritual dryness. I had a job, a family, a church community, yet something was missing. I felt like those families living below ground, surrounded by walls of routine and expectation, unable to see the light above. I’d pray, but the words felt heavy, like they couldn’t reach the ceiling. I’d read Scripture, but it seemed distant, like a story about someone else. “Why am I so empty?” I’d whisper in the quiet of my heart. It wasn’t until I surrendered my striving and let God speak that I began to see a vision. Not of a house, but of a heart alive with His presence.

God’s voice broke through one evening as I sat with my Bible open to Psalm 127:1: “Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain.” I’d been trying to build my life on my own strength, stacking bricks of effort and achievement, but leaving no room for Him. That night, I began to dream of a tabernacle. Not a physical structure, but a sacred space in my heart where God could dwell. A place of faith, love, and rest. That vision changed everything. Slowly, I stepped out of my basement into His light.

Now is the time for all of us to rise from the basements of our souls. Now is the time to build tabernacles for the Lord. Not with brick or mortar, not with wood from ancient trees or stone from the earth’s beginning, but with the surrender of our hearts. A tabernacle is a dwelling place for God’s presence, a sanctuary where His Spirit meets ours. The Most High, our Papa God, knows each name, each longing, each hidden corner of our hearts. He calls us His sons and daughters, whispering, “I am the glue that holds you together. Without me, you’ll feel an emptiness no wealth or status can fill.”

Have you ever cried out, “Why am I not content? I have everything—money, respect, love—yet I’m still restless.” That ache is the echo of a heart made for God. As Augustine wrote, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” You were woven with His presence in your very DNA. Without Him, you’re like those who live in basements, unaware of the light above. Jesus invites us, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). That rest isn’t an end; it’s a beginning. It’s the foundation for building a life where God dwells.

Building a tabernacle in your heart starts with vision—seeing yourself not as a basement dweller, but as a child of the King, called to live in His light. It means opening your heart to His voice, letting His Spirit guide your steps. It means trusting that He completes you, filling the emptiness no earthly thing can satisfy. And once you find that rest, He’ll call you to build more. Not just for yourself, but for others, sharing His love through your words, your hands, your life.

So, pause today. What basement are you lingering in? Is it fear, doubt, or a sense of unworthiness? What tabernacle is God calling you to build? Take a moment to sit with Him, to dream of a heart alive with His presence. Step into His light, and begin. The God who knows your name is waiting to build with you, one prayer, one surrender, one vision at a time.

Kathy Yoder is a devotional writer. She may be reached at kathyyoder4@gmail.com and Kathyyoder.com.