Dearest friends (you are just that – dearest),
There’s a reason Amazon sells more than 20,000 books about hospitality, from “how to’s” to etiquette and decoration, from hotel industry guidebooks to Bible studies about Martha and Mary. We want to welcome one another well.
But what if this urge to welcome represents something deeper and hidden in the soul of everyone? What if our expressions of welcome, simple ways of opening our hearts and homes, were meant to be bigger than our own tables or guest rooms? Certainly bigger than our politics or preferences? What if hospitality was less about how we do it and more about who we do it for and with?
I’m convinced that the “who” of hospitality is what makes it powerful. When we are hospitable to the people who need it most, we are committing acts of justice and mercy. But, here’s the inescapable reality: Caring about vulnerable people, truly caring as a verb not just a noun, leads to exhaustion, heartache. And heart-full joy and happy dancing.
This is certainly a season of both…
… from the beautiful sight of hostages passing each other on their way home to messages from Chicago friends who are bearing witness to American might hurting (and in a few cases killing) others with impunity and glee.
… from remembering the day last year when I said, “If I am invited to speak on a stage about welcoming refugees, I will say yes every time,” to getting to do just that four times in this past week.
… from realizing I am the buzz kill in most conversations about hope (because, seriously, when we started Refuge in 2015, there were 63 million displaced people worldwide and now there are 123 million) to preparing for dinner and dancing this weekend with 80+ former Refuge baristas and employees to celebrate them, the very ones who made Refuge a reality.
… from my newest (fostered-soon-to-be-adopted) grandson asking me at the race if I won to, when I told him I’m pretty sure I came in last, watching his face light up as he asked, “Can I have your medal then?” (OF COURSE YOU CAN! So, sweat and all, I placed it around his neck and reveled in his gorgeous grin.)
I’m guessing you have experienced similar swings in emotion lately. My husband used to say, “Life is overwhelming, so just be overwhelmed with the right things.”
What else can I say but, “Keep letting the right things overwhelm you.”
That is not to say don’t do other things. Pay your property taxes (ack! Talk about overwhelming!), mulch your leaves if you have them, feed your people, check in on your mom, call the plumber if you need to. Keep watching Netflix, eating out at new places, going for walks, having fun with your kids, your spouses, your best friends.
But could you do something you’re already doing with your time, your money, and your energy, but instead infuse that regular thing with overwhelming hospitality?
I regularly marvel at the simplest offerings my friends and family make, the millions of ways they draw the circle of their everyday lives a little wider to include the vulnerable.
That’s how medals are won and shared. It’s quite simple, actually.
Love and thanks,
Kitti
