Hospitality

The past few weeks have been about hospitality. I have been learning a lot about it, and it seeme at every turn in the road there were lessons revolving around this theme, in books I picked up to read, in Bible Studies, in conversations. And I have really been growing in this area. General ideas about hospitality are simple. It's easy to be hospitable when you are the hostess of a dinner party and everything is straight and prepared and it's your favorite friends coming over. Or when your home is all nice and pretty and perfect. Or when you are perfectly comfortable and at ease. Easy to make people feel at home and welcome them in, right? But what does hospitality mean when you do not have a finished home. What does it mean when you are not comfortable in your living space; what does it mean to be hospitable when you don't feel particularly friendly, when you are frustrated or tired or lonely. What does it mean to have a hospitable heart, to make space for people when they show up at the door (or just walk through it for lack of one!) even when your nature would go against that. What does it mean to make a space hospitable through your welcoming heart and ears and smile rather than what is in the space/house? What does it mean to love people no matter what, no matter how you feel or no matter how they approach you? These are a lot of the themes that God has been taking me through this past month, and I feel blessed to be learning and maybe progressing a little in this area. I have been reading a book by Henri Nouwen called Reaching Out, which speaks on the subject of both solitude and hospitality, the necessity of solitude and the hospitality of the heart in reaching out towards others. So applicable for Peace Corps life. It has been incredibly beautiful as well as appropriate for this time, these past months, so helpful. And I do feel that I have come to a place where I am able to put my own discomfort and wants aside and make room for others, make a space welcoming, love more. It is an incredible thing when you reach a point of being on a plateau of sorts. I feel as though I was climbing up a mountain, climbinb up, climbing up. And finally reached a plateau, and was aware of it, that hey, my heart has changed! Looking back I can see the distance and the difference. I noticed that now, when the children stare through the unfinished wall of my house at whatever I'm doing, instead of feeling frustrated or mad or sad or at my wits end, just wanting to hide or have some peace and quiet, now the response is laughter, laughter at the kids, waving, smiling. So that is indeed progress. And just one small example, and a very nice, soft, quiet praise for that lesson and growth.