Practicing Radically Ordinary Hospitality

I finished RosariaButterfield’s book, TheGospel Comes with a House Key: Practicing Radically Ordinary Hospitality in OurPost-Christian World, at the end of March and immediately feltconvicted over my self-centered view of hospitality. I grew up in the South andalways believed hospitality required a new seasonal centerpiece, fresh bakeddesserts, and at least one-week notice (though two is preferable). You pull outthe nice serving bowls (heaven forbid you serve from the kitchen) and eye yourthrow pillows so that they don’t get squashed by an unsuspecting husband (who reallyjust wants to take a break from all the preparations).

That’s not what Butterfield’sbook is about (you can read my review in thisblog post). She challenged my self-serving view of hospitality on the veryfirst page, “Those who live out radically ordinary hospitality see their homesnot as theirs at all but as God’s gift to use for the furtherance of hiskingdom.”

I prayed that he would open the door for me to sacrificially open my doors that his glory may be known, not my own.

As soon as I closed the book, Iimmediately began to pray that God would change my heart and my mind abouthospitality. I prayed that he would open the door for me to sacrificially openmy doors that his glory may be known, not my own. I prayed this daily, as Istarted looking for people to invite to my home that I wouldn’t have normallyotherwise.

God answered my prayer onEaster Monday, a month later, in a very unexpected way. My husband’s brotherand his family of five were coming from Colorado to visit us for a week—twodays later.

I still remember Joseph’s call.He started with an apology, “I’m sorry for the late notice, but….” We had beentrying to plan a time for them to come visit, but the last talks had been thatthey would come in June, not the next week! While I love my husband’s family,my own selfish perfectionism jumped into overdrive as I thought of thegroceries, linens, etc. that needed to be prepared before their arrival in lessthan forty-eight hours.

And then God stopped me.

I could almost hear him say,“This is it.”

I put down my pen where I hadbeen furiously scribbling lists, and I dropped to my knees and prayed.

I prayed that I would not beconcerned about my own needs but theirs. I prayed my focus would not be on thepraise of my cooking, cleaning, or decorating, but on the praise of God on whomour home is founded. I prayed that I would show the grace of God to my guestsand to myself. I prayed that I would hold my time and my possessions loosely,freely giving to those around me. I prayed I would practice radically ordinaryhospitality.

I prayed my focus would not be on the praise of my cooking, cleaning, or decorating, but on the praise of God on whom our home is founded.

You see, my husband’s familyare not believers, and we have prayed for so many years that they would come tofaith. I prayed that God would use our home that week as a means for the Gospelto be shared with his family.

And. God. Answered.

In the most beautiful way.After a rainy week with young kiddos cooped up inside, we took everyone to thezoo that Saturday morning. Afterwards, Joseph and his brother went to a firingrange to hang out while my sister-in-law and I brought the kids back for naps.While there, Joseph was able to share the Gospel with his brother in the mostcomplete way he’s ever done and ask about his brother’s beliefs.

It was the first time hisbrother had ever said he was open to belief in God. The brother who has been astaunch atheist for as long as I have known him. Joseph invited his brother tochurch with us the next day, and he said yes! It would be the first timehe had ever been to an evangelical church.

I prayed all night and morningthat the powers of darkness would not hinder us bringing his family to church,and God answered! As they walked in with us, I could feel the love of God exudefrom our brothers and sisters in our faith family. From nursery drop off to thesermon, they were showing him and his family what it meant to love God and loveothers.

On our way home, I was“strategizing” with my husband on how we would bring up different elements ofthe church service for discussion at lunch. Silly me. God was already workingin Joseph’s brother’s heart, and his brother quickly began questioning us assoon as we got home.

That was the first of manyconversations my brother-in-law would have with Joseph and with pastors at alocal church we found for him back home. It would take another blog post torecount every detail of God’s faithfulness over the next month, but on MemorialDay weekend, Joseph’s brother called to tell us that he had surrendered hislife to Christ!

We cried with tears of joy,amazed at the mighty working of God in his heart and family. And we praised himfor allowing us to be a small part of building his kingdom.

God used my weakness—my mismatched sheets and paper plates—to bring a lost sheep into his kingdom.

And all it took was us openingour doors to “last minute” guests. I could have said no. I could have selfishlysaid I needed more time to prepare, to make myself look like the “hostess withthe mostest.” But instead, God used my weakness—my mismatched sheets and paperplates—to bring a lost sheep into his kingdom. While I may not have entertainedin a manner worthy of Southern Living Magazine, one day we will dinewith my brother-in-law and his family forever in eternity at the most gloriousdinner party, the marriage supper of the lamb.