On my first Easter Sunday in Cleveland, Ohio, I learned that hospitality is about welcoming people in—whether you are ready or not.
My first Easter Sunday in Cleveland was full of friends and fellowship. After attending the morning church service with the bus teens, chatting with my single friends, and having dinner that afternoon with a sweet family, I drove home too late to get to the evening service.
Still, I thought about driving straight to the church because it seemed strange not to go see my church family. But by the time I got there, the service would be over. So I drove home and sent out a group text asking my friends if they decided to go out to eat.
Immediately, one of the men teased, “Party at Carmen’s place.”
The Messiness of Hospitality
I rolled my eyes. My apartment was a disaster. It was the spring semester of my first year living in Cleveland teaching English in a Christian school. Since I was also halfway through an eight-week graduate course, there had been no time to keep up with cleaning and organizing my apartment. It would just be a disaster until this class was done. Then I could get things in order again and keep up with it.
Small trashcans overflowed with tissues, spilled loose-leaf tea sprinkled the kitchen floor, while paperwork from school and from licensing my car littered one corner of the living room. My desk was covered with random stuff. Newly washed laundry piled on the couch, and a few shirts hung over the dining room chairs to dry.
I wanted to invite my church friends over one day—when my apartment was organized and spotless and I could be the perfect hostess. Easter Sunday was not that day.
Yet as the back-and-forth continued regarding which restaurants were open on Easter and what people preferred, I started to rethink my perspective. Just the day before, an older lady in my church had talked about the importance of inviting people over, even when the house was not clean and perfect. Hospitality was not about having the perfect place. It was about inviting people in—even if there was a mess.
Finally, I texted, “I think you all are having too great a time teasing me. But if you don’t mind that my place isn’t spotless, I would try to make it decent. Ha!”
“Hospitality is not about having the perfect place. It is about inviting people in—even if there is a mess.”
Sure enough, three friends decided to pick up pizza and come over. So I scrambled to throw piles of stuff into my bedroom, organize the papers scattered on the floor, sweep up the kitchen, take out the trash, and get dishes washed and put away—all before my friends would arrive around 9:00 p.m. I crashed on the couch about five minutes before they arrived.
The Joy of Hospitality
When I set up my first apartment at the age of thirty-one, I did not expect my first hosting event to be late on Easter Sunday with a barely together apartment and pizza and soda I didn’t even buy myself. Yet it was better than any event I could have planned. We talked, laughed, and brainstormed promotional videos for the Young Professionals Bible class that could feature our crazy lives of service in the church. When the party ended, I was thankful that a woman had recently reminded me of the importance of being flexible—willing to host when my place was not perfect.
My Invitation to You
Hosting people on a blog is kind of like hosting people in your home. You want the environment to be perfect. You want to offer something that will satisfy your guests. You want to plan well, and you want everyone to have a good time. You want heart-to-heart conversations and deep connections. At the end of the visit, you wave and say, “See you again soon!”
But when the Lord led me to host a blog, my shortcomings threatened to keep me from extending hospitality in this way. Life is busy. I’m a bit of a mess. Who would want to visit anyway? Yet here you are. God sent you here for a reason. Maybe you need encouragement from God’s Word. Maybe you have questions about single living. Maybe you are figuring out how to be a homemaker. Maybe you are trying to navigate relationships. Maybe you want to learn more about ministering to others and fulfilling God’s call for your life.
So please, come on in. Let’s talk. My place isn’t spotless. But I think we’ll have a good time anyway.
Whatever brought you here, I want you to know that my door is open to you. Don’t expect perfection—but do expect honesty. I want to be open with you about the things I have struggled with and how God has been kind and faithful.
See you soon!
Beautifully written! Thank you for sharing such good things to consider when reaching out to others.
Thanks Serena!
Thank you for sharing, Carmen! That is a great reminder and something that I’ve been thinking about recently too. 🙂 I look forward to your future blogs.
Thanks Priscilla!
I love this. It’s so hard to not want it to be spotless to host but honestly sometimes “too perfect” isn’t the welcoming ambiance we think it is! I want friends to feel like they can plop down on the couch and relax to talk and just hang out. Open “lived in” homes are usually more inviting than perfectly spotless “controlled environments”… great article, Carmen!
Yes! Good points, Crystal. We want our homes to be places where people feel they can relax and not stress about “messing someone’s place up.”