I like to think I’m good at hospitality.
I don’t invite people in too much.
But I sometimes do.
Good enough, yes?
But then, I think the people I choose to invite tend to be easier to deal with then the people I don’t or didn’t quite choose.
I’m wondering a bit: how would it look to be a little more hospitable to my own people in my own house?
It’s easy to treat normal human needs and occurrences like interruptions and to glance up unfriendly at the faces of the tiny intruders who just happen to look like me.
Because sometimes hospitality is hard.
And sometimes it’s not an everyday thing.
But maybe it is.
How often am I more likely to laugh at a neighbor’s joke than my husband’s?
When do I try to smile softly at all the people in my house who make the messes I resent?
Maybe it’s a sign of my character that this struggle with my day-to-day people is where my mind goes when I think of hospitality.
But maybe it’s just reality.
And hospitality isn’t limited to those we like to invite.
Hospitality isn’t limited to outside or inside our homes.
Hospitality is an encompassing invitation for us to love and give with all the grace we can muster to any human in our midst or on the hazy edges of our awareness.
People in our house who we have to curb our humanity to love well, people in our lives who we see more casually, people on the edges who might be less seen and less convenient to our sense of self.
There’s always an opportunity.
Let’s look close and let’s also look far to find the people in or on the outskirts of our everyday lives that need a little extra hospitality from us.
Linking up with Five Minute Friday today. 😊
Happy weekend, people.