During these 6 months, we have stayed at 17 different houses and 14 hotels. (I just counted on our google calendar.) We are at the mercy of the hospitable.
I'm not a Southerner, just a transplant learning to make cornbread in a cast-iron and the perfect sweet tea. I remember being struck by hospitality at a women's Bible study in the heart of Atlanta. There were candles in the bathroom, coordinating dish towels, freshly dressed salad and an ice bucket. And although I had never eaten quail before or heard of Barefoot Contessa, I felt comfortable. And since that first Bible study (12 years ago), I have learned the purpose of hospitality is just that: making guests feel comfortable, at home. I don't have an ice bucket (I point people to the freezer) but I'm perfecting my own salad dressing and cornbread. Over a decade later I just took a crash course in hospitality: 6 months of other-dependence.
People we had never met before gave us guest rooms. Jeff and Jen gave up their master bedroom while they slept in their kids' bunk beds. One family didn't have extra space, so they booked a hotel for us. Another family had a gift basket for our girls. Another planned an Easter egg hunt. My dad and step-mom set up princess tent-beds! We have enjoyed countless kid-friendly lunches and dinners, favorite cereals and strong coffee, and meals at restaurants where we were batted away from picking up the check. Grandparents make every overnight a party. Friends make us feel honored and at ease. Being hosted is being celebrated, cherished.
So when I go back to my city apartment and cram in our fellowship group of 20 for a meal, I won't simply be recharged. I'll be a better hostess, a better member of Christ's body. I've learned more than recipes and decorating ideas. As I said, I have been at others' mercy, the mercy of God extended through His people. Though I wouldn't readily admit it; my heart has been on the line.
If God wills, I'll make others feel at home because that's what He's asked and that's what I've felt, here in this middle-place, home.
I'm not a Southerner, just a transplant learning to make cornbread in a cast-iron and the perfect sweet tea. I remember being struck by hospitality at a women's Bible study in the heart of Atlanta. There were candles in the bathroom, coordinating dish towels, freshly dressed salad and an ice bucket. And although I had never eaten quail before or heard of Barefoot Contessa, I felt comfortable. And since that first Bible study (12 years ago), I have learned the purpose of hospitality is just that: making guests feel comfortable, at home. I don't have an ice bucket (I point people to the freezer) but I'm perfecting my own salad dressing and cornbread. Over a decade later I just took a crash course in hospitality: 6 months of other-dependence.
People we had never met before gave us guest rooms. Jeff and Jen gave up their master bedroom while they slept in their kids' bunk beds. One family didn't have extra space, so they booked a hotel for us. Another family had a gift basket for our girls. Another planned an Easter egg hunt. My dad and step-mom set up princess tent-beds! We have enjoyed countless kid-friendly lunches and dinners, favorite cereals and strong coffee, and meals at restaurants where we were batted away from picking up the check. Grandparents make every overnight a party. Friends make us feel honored and at ease. Being hosted is being celebrated, cherished.
So when I go back to my city apartment and cram in our fellowship group of 20 for a meal, I won't simply be recharged. I'll be a better hostess, a better member of Christ's body. I've learned more than recipes and decorating ideas. As I said, I have been at others' mercy, the mercy of God extended through His people. Though I wouldn't readily admit it; my heart has been on the line.
If God wills, I'll make others feel at home because that's what He's asked and that's what I've felt, here in this middle-place, home.
