I love having people in our home.

My friend Bethany thinks I'm making that up, but I'm not. I enjoy cooking for and with other people. The hubbub of a houseful makes me giddy. Friends (or almost friends) stopping by unexpectedly gets me really jazzed up.

This has not always been the case for me, though.

I've definitely had to learn hospitality skills. There were times in my recent past when I made the children hide when someone came to the door. Now, though, I'm likely to invite the stranger knocking at my door in for lemonade or coffee in spite of any chaos around me.

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Photo Credit: chris law photography Flickr via Compfight cc[/caption]

During my early years as a mother we were living in a new, bigger city and I didn't know anyone. Thankfully I made a few friends fairly quickly and because we had similar parenting styles and kids around the same age we spent a lot of time together. We cooked together, folded laundry while we visited and generally just enjoyed not being alone with our children all the time.

We had intentional community.

I also had a friend who was well past toddler parenting and made the best pasta carbonara I have ever had. She was my soft place to land on days when I didn't think I could do it anymore. She enjoyed my little people and seemed perpetually relaxed - something I needed a lot of.

So, here's a few things I've learned about hospitality:

People really aren't coming to see your house...

I know people say that all the time, but really, humans want to visit with humans. It's that simple. If you're going to friends' houses and judging their decorating or housekeeping skills you need to check yourself. Learning how other people live, seeing their decorations and dishes, gives you insight into how you live your life. People come to visit your home in order to be more human. That's it. It's that simple.

There are seasons of hospitality...

I made the assumption that there was something wrong with me when I couldn't have people over when I had a six week old. I had friends who could, so why couldn't I? The fact is I just don't recover well, not from childbirth, a cold, or exhaustion. I need to rest and be gentle with myself. Once I'm back, though, I'm back. Then I can be hospitable. Until I'm there I rely on the kindness of my friends and family to supply a cozy, judgement-free place where I can recharge.

Now that my kids are all older having people over isn't hard, either. My people aren't sick every other week, there's typically only one towel (the hand towel!!) on the bathroom floor, and I'm not nearly as exhausted as I was in those early years of parenting.

If you're in a season of small children don't be hard on yourself for not feeling hospitable. It will come. Find a friend who could care less if you haven't showered in days and is happy to wade through toys and piles of laundry to sit at the table with you. If, like me, you're in a season where having people over is easier be the soft place. Invite the younger mamas into your home, remind them that all is not lost.

Perfection is an illusion...

Seriously, even when things look perfect they're not. There's dust or cracks or something out of place and that is fine. If you only allow people in your home when you've dusted, vacuumed, mopped, and have a clean hand towel hanging in the bathroom (who does that????) then they will believe that is what is expected of them. Help lower the standards for house keeping! Let people see your dirty dishes in the sink, your laundry on the living room couch, and your kitchen table that doubles as an ironing board. Honesty is the best policy when it comes to hospitality.

Now, when you have a party or a special even go ahead and clean away, make that house sparkle! But in the meantime treat friends as family and let them come regardless of the state of your home. Shame has no place in hospitality.

Hospitality can feel a bit like baring your soul...

Here in the United States we've gotten pretty weird about having people in our homes. Magazines and television shows give the illusion that homes are in order all of the time. When you live in your home, though, order is relative to the day and time. If you're homeschooling, have small children, have more than one parent working outside of the home, carting your kids to various activities through the week, or are a person your home is going to look very different from day to day.

The first time I have someone over I feel a lot of things. Sometimes I'm embarrassed, especially if I have to rewash all the silverware because one of my people put it away with scrambled eggs stuck to everything. Mostly I feel exposed, and proud. It may sound weird but I like my house more when there are people in it. Inviting a friend into your home requires trust. I have to trust that my friend will accept me as a really am, not just as I present myself to the world.

That trust has never been misplaced.

I hope you're feeling encouraged to have people over. I am so grateful to each of my friends who has taught me to have people into my home by inviting me and my family in. Some of my most profound conversations have taken place while sipping tea and talking over children running about. I have learned more about Jesus' teachings when I've put a call out to a friend and she's said, "Why don't you just come over?"

Be brave, misfits, and invite people in.

My door is always open.

But my toilet is not always clean.

Come on over anyway.

In Part 1 I told you about a time when violence took me by surprise.

Community can take me surprise, too, which is why I have hope.

My family didn't look like any other family that I knew. It was the only way we ever looked, though, so to me it was normal. To you, your family is normal. That's the awesome thing about families: even the weird stuff is normal in your own family.

Sometimes being different did feel isolating, but it wasn't often. Honestly, it was only as a young adult that I was able to reflect on how difficult life must have been for my brother, Todd. When you're a kid you just take what you get.

The beautiful thing is there were always people for us. Mom didn't have a ton of people inviting her for coffee and playdates but she had enough. Enough to let us know we belonged, enough to drown out the mean voices. It was those people who helped the good outweigh the bad.

Once Erik came along it was really interesting how people either took him or not. Those that liked him really liked him, and those that didn't never did. Of course he was kind of like a cat and kept showing up at the houses where he seemed particularly unwelcome.

That guy.

I think he may still be a little like that.

My parents always stressed the importance of focusing on the good things. The good things that happened, the good about ALL the people in our lives - even the ones that give us trouble. Mom and Dad taught me that everyone has value.

Essentially, Mom and Dad taught me to believe in the good of community.

Yes, we had bad experiences just like everyone. We also encountered some really stellar people, like a guy we'll call Stephen McStephenson. I was in fifth or sixth grade, so around 11 or 12 years old. Stephen was newish to our school and the news on him was that he was a type of animal; a zebra.

I had no idea what that meant, I just heard it whispered amongst kids at school.

One day he ticked me off, as boys that age tended to do, and I used that name on him. I still had no clue what it meant, but I shouted it and the room hushed. Immediately I knew I had done something forbidden. I don't even recall Stephen's reaction.

Someone clued me in on what that name meant. I felt sick the rest of the day. I felt ashamed and disgusted by myself. I walked home alone slowly, unable to look anyone in the eye. I sat at my kitchen table with my snack. After five minutes of not being able to eat I knew I needed to take a walk.

I went to Stephen's house and apologized. I apologized to his mother and to him. I cried, probably the ugly cry. Then the three of us sat at their table and talked.

That boy and I were not best friends after that, but there was definitely an understanding.

I didn't know it then, but I had a few choices with my shame. "According to Dr Hartling, in order to deal with shame, some of us move away by withdrawing, hiding, silencing ourselves, and keeping secrets. Some of us move toward by seeking to appease and please. And some of us move against by trying to gain power over others, by being aggressive, and by using shame to fight shame." (Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 46)

According to Brown, sharing our story, our shame, releases it's hold on us. That's exactly what I experienced when I went to the person I had hurt and confessed my shame. Puff. It was gone, never to have hold over me again.

There'd be plenty of other times, though, when I didn't do the best thing with shame when it came knocking.

I have to think that's what people who are racist (or any kind of -ist) do. They have shame but turn it the wrong way. Individual life experiences coupled with They hole up with people who think the exact same way and insulate themselves against any type of growth.

Aren't we all guilty of that, to a degree? I'd gravitate toward hanging out with people who think the way I do. It's just more comfortable.

The gift of my childhood was that I was able to see the very best of people - and the very worst.

And that's where my hope for us all comes in.

Due to the uniqueness of my family I was exposed to the truth of humanity: we are not all good and we are not all bad. The hurtful things that we can do to one another will never surprise me. However, the amazing kindness that comes from us is what leaves me the most changed.

After watching events unfold in Charlottesville it was hard to not give into the feeling that neo-Nazi's were everywhere waiting to take to every street. That's the problem with the media. The news is only able to focus on a handful of events at a time.

The media will not focus on the stuff that unites.

The news has no way of portraying all the things - good and bad - happening all at once around our towns, countries, and the world. They're focused on the most buzz-worthy stories, the stuff that will pull us in and keep us coming back for more, or never leaving. We can watch news 24 hours a day if we choose.

Or we can be smarter than they think we are.

We can leave our homes and get out into our communities. We can find organizations to get involved with that will educate us on race issues, immigration, and anything else that you might be interested in. Don't get your info from social media feeds and websites. Get out there and be a part of it.

I'm preaching to myself here.

What would it look like to give each other room to share our stories? Even the ugly ones. Especially the ugly ones. Though, Brown cautions against sharing our shame with people who aren't safe. Only special people get to hear that stuff.

I guess what I'm talking about is having relationships with people who think in ways that are uncomfortable for us. Learn how to have conversations with people you don't agree with and love them anyway. We don't always have to choose the easiest ones. Read more of what Brene Brown has to say here. I really know we can do this together - as long as we don't pretend it's not happening.

And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. ~ Romans 5:5

I have hope because I have community. I have hope because I can share that community with others. Hope will not put us to shame. Keep track of the hope-giving moments in our world and hold on to those. That's how we'll learn how to move through the life-sucking moments.

Brave Misfit

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

A Word on Hospitality