I can still remember visiting my grandfather's home when I was a young boy. On most occasions, he would greet us at the door and then escort us through the kitchen and past the dining room to the formal living room. My grandmother had passed away years earlier when my father was a young man. But my grandfather kept her sense of taste in furnishings and décor alive in that room.
The living room was meticulously straight, without one thing out of place. I always believed that room was just as my grandmother had left it upon her death. I think my grandfather wanted it that way. For that reason, I always enjoyed spending time in that room.
I also loved other areas of the house. Those other rooms seemed more "lived in." My grandfather maintained the house well. Honestly, it looked much like I imagined my own home would look if I were to be widowed. Everything had its place and a specific order. We just never figured out what that exact order was. Nonetheless, I loved everything about it.
In retrospect, I think I appreciated how my grandfather kept his home because it allowed me to glimpse his life. I could see how he lived and what he spent his days doing (or not doing). I could see what drew his interest and what demanded his attention.
Through his home, I could also see his struggles and challenges. I'm not sure whether he ever cooked for himself since I rarely noticed a plate in the kitchen sink after my grandmother's death. It wasn't unusual; it was just imperfect. And I could connect with that. I enjoyed it. Actually, I loved its imperfection.
Open Home, Open Heart. Now, many years later, as I consider my life and how my family lives in our home, I find that there's an important principle to be found in these memories: What's often most remarkable in our homes is that which is most real.
Each time I write this column, I share about my family's commitment to maximizing our home for God's purposes. Consequently, your family may be led to discuss topics such as family development and spiritual growth. But, as you prepare to discuss with one another how you can use your home for Him,
I'd ask you to consider the idea of hospitality in your home. Hospitality is more than opening your home to guests; it's about opening your heart to them. In both cases, it's not about showing the "perfect parts." It's about sharing those parts of your home and heart that are perfectly imperfect. I hope you'll be reminded about what matters most. Then, ask yourself some hard questions about your hospitality.
Are you more interested in impressing people than you are making them feel welcome?
Do you spend as much time on the internal matters of your hospitality (your heart) as you do the external?
Are you giving people a complete and accurate look into your life?
Welcome and Connect
I've discovered over time that one of the key elements of hospitality is authenticity. In fact, I don't think it's terrible that someone sees your house when it isn't perfectly clean. I think it's fine for someone to see the trash can that needs to be emptied or the dishes left on the table after a meal. Some people can be so committed to making their home a showplace for guests that they never get around to actually hosting guests. I should know; I do it, too!
My home isn't always orderly with everything in its place, but as my wife, Carrie, and I have hosted people in our home, we've felt that it's important for our guests to know that we, like our home, aren't perfect. And I've got a pretty good hunch that our guests' homes aren't perfect either. Remember, your desire in hospitality is to welcome and connect — not impress.
This holds true for other aspects of your life. If hospitality is more about your home than your hearts, then you haven't done your best. You must work to be even more committed to transparency in your relationships. There are only some relationships in which it will feel appropriate to share all about yourselves. But I've found that almost all relationships can benefit from openness and authenticity. As you host people in your home, let them see some of the challenges and trials you're experiencing. Whether that means sharing a prayer need or talking through something difficult over a cup of coffee; people need to see that you're real.
Why? Because they can connect with that. And that lasts. You aren't called to be perfect. You're called to live in His grace and seek to honor Him. None of us always does that well, but we can lean on and push one another forward. In those relationships, we'll expose our imperfections. But those relationships will likely be some of the greatest blessings of your life. Somehow, they're perfectly imperfect.
This article is courtesy of HomeLife Magazine.