The Essential Practice of Hospitality
I sat in the massage chair and pushed buttons while my pedicure was underway. Thomas is a pro. With his head down,…
Helping Women Move From Fear into Faith
I sat in the massage chair and pushed buttons while my pedicure was underway. Thomas is a pro. With his head down,…
I’m convinced God designed me to gather people. To serve them, encourage them and watch magic happen when strangers become friends. I…
I don’t want to carry gratitude around in seasons.
I want to carry it in my bones,
I want to rest it in on my tongue
like it is a language
that I never stop speaking.
~Arielle Estoria
WE are Christ’s Body—His hands and feet. We are the ones with doors and tables and food that encourage other folks around us.
I realized today when I tossed those pillows on the swing that the way I’m wired hasn’t curled up and died. My gifts for gathering people and warming up our home so people will feel loved and welcomed. This is who I am. I just haven’t known how to be that person in a different place.
“No one else can play your part.”
“Better a neighbor nearby than a relative far away.”
It’s been nearly a year now since Shari invited all the neighbor ladies over for a party at her home. A party to say goodbye to me. I wasn’t the only one in tears that night. Honestly I was crying a lot last year. I didn’t want to move from our home or our neighborhood. But we knew God was pointing us in the direction of South Carolina, after a job offer had been made.
Is your table big enough for folks outside your family? Is your heart large enough to offer a hand of friendship to…
I lost a dear friend this week. Actually, she’s not lost. It’s me who’s lost just knowing she’s not here. Her earthly ties were cut loose and she flew right into the arms of Jesus. I’m hurting for my loss but no doubt the loss is felt much more by her dear husband of over 60 years and all the extended family who loved her so much.
My daughter Katherine was about three years old when I walked upstairs and saw a long row of shoes–our family’s shoes–up and down the hallway, near the bathroom door. There she was, bright eyed with that perpetual smile. “Joy” was the nickname I’d given her. When I asked about the shoes she said, “You told me we’re having a shower so I got everyone’s shoes ready.”
First prize for the Most Unwelcoming House (my conscience prevents me from calling it a home!) goes to one I saw last week. Of modest size, and plopped down in a pleasant little community, this place had no less than four large NO TRESPASSING signs.
My friend and I imagined that theoretically we could have a tidy clean house with everything in order. But what benefit would there be to an empty house? We wanted to learn to embrace or at least accept the poopy diapers,never ending laundry, the continual spills. One day we’d miss those little rug rats.