Hospitality – like a four-letter word that strikes fear into my heart.
I’ll do most anything for you – Clean your house, bring you supper, watch your kids. But opening up my home is rather scary – the last thing I’d want to do.
Can I tell you something? It’s because I’m ashamed. Ashamed of my home and what you may think of me and my husband. Will you question our worth because of the exposed walls and holes in the ceiling? Will you question if I’m a good mother because of the peeling paint and the paper wall? Will you doubt my husband’s ability to provide because of the plastic table where we eat?
In(RL) is coming up in a few short days and I am thrilled! This is the second year I’ve hosted. Last year we met in a local coffee shop. This year it’ll be at my house.
God is using this meet-up to remove the fear of hospitality. The greater purpose here is to minister to others, not fear what they’ll think about me.
Did you notice the difference in those two sentences? The first focused on others. The second on me.
The fear is legitimate – the shame as well. But those things need to be given to the Father. How many opportunities to love on others have I missed over the years because I’ve held those burdens close?
This may always be a struggle. But I’m learning to slowly unfurl my fingers, let go of the burdens, and rest in Christ.
Praying that you will do the same, with whatever your clasping. Let it go.
Everyone’s story matters.