Sunday Sentiments

 

The book I’m reading right now is all about hospitality. I love what I’m reading and come away challenged in my own view of hospitality, what it means, and how to practice it in the most Christ-like way.

            Friday night, Ryan and I went on a date (more to come on that soon) where we experienced extravagant hospitality in action. We had tickets to a dinner that was held at the host’s home (which doubles as a farm that is her livelihood), and as she spoke to us before we ate, she shared beautiful things about her mission to share what she has with others.

            She talked about the long and rich history of her home, where she has lived all her life. She talked about the generations who came before and how the trees under which she placed the picnic tables, were planted long before she was even born.

            As she spoke, I looked up at those beautiful trees that served as a natural umbrella from the warm summer sun, and loved it even more that all the white picnic tables for our meal fit underneath the far-reaching branches of these magnificent trees. These trees have seen storms and harsh winters and perfect summer nights with guests gathering in the yard for a special meal.

            She shared liberally with us – and even though we bought tickets, she generously offered leftovers once everyone had been through the line. The homemade touch made everything taste even better, and the conversation with newfound friends across the table was such a surprise for me. (I was admittedly nervous about sharing a table with strangers, but they were warm and kind people who felt like old friends from the moment they walked up to join us.

            My favorite bonus was learning that our hostess is also an author. She works her farm in the good-weather months, and when winter pushes her inside, she sits at her desk and writes novels. My writer-ears perked up at that story!

            The meal was fun and delicious, but nothing about it was extravagant in terms of presentation. We brought our own tableware. We sat at white picnic tables under the trees. They served water and coffee from plastic pitchers, the meal was offered buffet-style, and pie came to us pre-plated. It was simple, and yet it was so much and so rich.

            And that’s the heart of hospitality. You don’t have to have outdoor chandeliers and linen napkins. You don’t have to eat from fine china or be served by waitstaff wearing a tie. Nothing wrong with any of that, of course, but you don’t have to have it for a beautiful display of wild hospitality.

            I’m encouraged and convicted anew. May I never forget the joy of that experience!