A year ago, my husband and I became life group leaders for a new community of young families at our church. Once a week, everyone meets at our home to eat a meal, study the previous Sunday’s sermon, and pray for one another. It’s the sweetest, loudest chaos in the world, as ten couples attempt to gain spiritual wisdom while bouncing newborns and babies, chasing toddlers, and disciplining preschoolers.
When life group is over, there’s always a trail of stickers stuck to the floor, puffs or mouthfuls of yogurt littering the living room, or the occasional potty training mess that someone is cleaning up. There’s Play-Doh, blocks and at least one flashing toy and screaming nursery rhymes to destroy a pair of socks or twist someone’s ankle.
And friends, I love it. Oh, how I love life, the laughter and the mess that fills our house. In fact, when we first bought our house, knowing that it was built in the 1890s and needed significant renovations, I prayed that when it was finally ready for others, everyone who walked through our doors would truly feel at home.
I believe God answered my simple prayer in a simple and subtle way. The adults in the group throw their feet up on the couch, bring drinks to the furniture without a second thought, and everyone works together to clean up the weekly spit-up, spilled juices, and crushed fruit the little ones leave behind.
It’s rhythmic, natural and, dare I say, a sacred quest.
The relationship between community and hospitality
Fellowship, an oft-overused noun and often under-supported verb in the local church, is simply a group of people who have found their God-given rest in presenting themselves to one another without pretense or practiced etiquette. It’s both refined and refreshing, and I think that’s how God intended His Body to function.
I learned so much about hospitality from this small community. As spring approaches and warmer weather makes it a little easier to invite friends over, I’d like you to remember a few things to make hospitality flourish in your home (and in your heart):
1. Appearances are a waste
Most of us know that appearances, in the grand scheme of things, are a waste, especially where they are. Proverbs 31:30 (ESV) worries: “Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. » But knowing the truth and choosing to accept and live it are two different things.
When I think of the most hospitable people I know, of the moments in life when I felt most at home within the four walls of a place that was not my own, I think of the company I kept. My brain replays the words they said, the laughter they offered, the encouragement they provided, and bonus points for the delicious food they often shared!
I don’t remember if I saw dust accumulating on the ceiling fan blades or dust bunnies littering the underside of the couch. I don’t remember how many pictures hung on their walls, or whether their furniture looked expensive. These details are not what my heart and soul thought were worth preserving.
This spring, when you’ll likely be deep cleaning and reorganizing for the hot summer months, I encourage you to keep your home hygienic and decluttered, but let go of excessive appearances. Create a healthy, open space for others to gather, but remember that their hearts and souls will take home what is life-giving, what comes from your heart and your mouth. They will remember the lessons, the laughter and the stories you tell them, not the weak excuses given by steamy curtains or polished staircases.
2. Flexibility is essential
The community, although so beautiful and life-giving, is still made up of human beings. This is a group of imperfect people who will sometimes be flaky, forget they were supposed to bring drinks, or are sensitive to illnesses and family emergencies that must take precedence.
If your hospitality doesn’t leave room for flexibility, you’ll quickly become resentful and frustrated. My friend, if you don’t control resentment and frustration, these feelings can easily turn into bitterness, which is much deeper and much more difficult to uproot.
Don’t let Satan get a foothold there. Protect your community by accepting its humanity.
When my husband and I attended a life group training, the manager told us clearly: “People are going to disappoint you. » There was no “maybe” or “if” about it. It was and still is a fact. People fail us all the time, whether intentionally or by innocent accident. We clean, cook, and go out of our way to make people cancel last minute or never offer a thank you.
But we give, serve, and love because we are called to love as Christ loves. We are called to serve as He serves. And we are called to humbly remember our place – that we too are human beings who are fragile, lazy, forgetful, prone to illness and unexpected emergencies, and who can and will be just as disappointing as others.
Just as Christ freely offers us mercy and grace in our humanity, may we protect God’s love in our homes by releasing control and allowing flexibility to be an integral part of our hospitality.
3. Admitting your limits is necessary
As leaders of our life group, my husband and I struggle to delegate responsibilities when we’re in a busy season or aren’t able to schedule a weekly meeting. It is part of our job, our responsibility, to always ensure that it is our home that we open to others.
But as I mentioned earlier, we are human beings with schedules that can change, illnesses that can arise, and honestly, simple exhaustion that can torment us. We too must admit our humanity and ask other members of the group to host, prepare the main meal or take care of the children when we do not have the capacity to do so.
When we agreed to lead the band, we wanted to lead it all the time. Sometimes, however, leading well means recognizing when you aren’t actually capable of leading well. This means that God gave other members of the group their own talents for cooking, playing with children, reading scriptures, encouraging others, and leading prayer.
When we let go of our pride and recognize that it is not us who preserve the group – that it is God who grows and sustains our community – we can lean on His call to rest, rejuvenate and refresh. In this abandonment, we can collect ourselves and prepare ourselves to better lead with love and hospitality the next go-around.
Flowery hospitality
Hospitality flourishes where hearts are humble, flexible and sensitive to their limits. With the help and sustaining power of God’s love and grace, you can open your home to others without stress, pretension, or bitterness clouding your community.
When you recognize your imperfections and accept those of those you welcome into your home, you create space for others to be open and honest and find the encouragement their souls need. Your words, your laughter, and the security you create can be the very means God uses to keep them attached to His goodness and plan for their lives.
Photo credit: ©Getty Images/Tatiana Maksimova
