As I walked in, a buzz of activity enveloped me, and bits of conversation swirled. “It’s cold outside, you’re going to want your jacket” coaxed a female voice. “No!!” a defiant toddler responded. “Your move, better be careful,” assorted male teenage voices discussing game strategy hummed in and out. Something was cooking, and many bodies, small and large, moved up and down and in and out of the house. I felt both perfectly welcome and rather insignificant at the same time.
The whole experience was a huge relief — I let the love and bustle and sensory overload wash over me in gratitude. Experiencing someone else’s normal chaos of daily life instantly made me feel more sane and grounded. I am so grateful for times like these, when another family invites me into their home.
For some context, I am about to experience having three children under three years old. I also have an almost four-year-old and a seven-year-old. These children of mine are not quiet, and their love language of choice is wrestling.
Problems sharing
My life has a certain level of crazy that I worry about sharing with other people. So, I often choose not to. I don't invite people over as I would like to or think I should. I avoid certain activities or events because they are hard to attend (buckling, unbuckling, wrangling, hushing, remembering all the things for all of the people — it takes time and energy!). But when I am willing to share life with others, it helps us all grow and I regret not doing it more.
Noticing the good fruit that comes from sharing life doesn’t mean the doing of it is easy. The extra expenditure of energy required to entertain or schedule something or even just show up at an event can take its toll. Often, inviting people to come over, or to go somewhere with you, doesn’t feel rewarding or helpful. I sometimes wonder after having guests over for dinner if the only positive thing they got from the experience was an immense gratitude for their own life (and its quietness!).
But you know what, if that was the only good thing that came from my attempt at loving through hospitality, that’s something!
Opening our homes (and hearts) to others
All of my insecurities about what my house looks like, how my children act, and what kind of food I provide are just obstacles that I let my pride put in the way of love. I remind myself as well that extending an invitation is all that’s required. No one has to accept it if they don’t want to. I know not everyone has several very young children who make it hard for them to want to be hospitable. But, even if young children are nowhere in sight, often there is something that prevents us from opening our homes or our hearts to others.
What is that thing for you?
I stepped out of the house into a swirl of sunshine and leaves, the game strategy talks and toddler coat defiance winding down into a gentle murmur behind me. My own toddler’s shrieks filled the quiet autumn air outside as we started the process of buckling for the trip back home.
But all was well. I was at peace, knowing that this too would pass eventually. My toddler might be setting up elaborate Risk strategies with his friends in the blink of an eye. I set off into the fading light, ready to face the evening head on — thanks to a moment sharing someone else’s life.
