ForgottenWoman

Did you say, “Cleanliness is next to godliness?”

Yes, it looks pretty gross, doesn’t it?

What would I say to my younger self if I could talk to 30 year old me?

This morning, as I mopped the floors that I just cleaned yesterday; I had so many thoughts running through this head of mine. What would I say to my younger self? GO WITH YOUR GUT and STOP listening to all of the homemaking and hospitality experts at the retreats!

Hospitality – I think I now understand it fully. I think I am beginning to understand my weird heart more fully and here it is. Hospitality is as simple as making my home a place where relationships are started, built, nurtured… the relationships inside my family and those that extend from my family.

It isn’t about perfectly presented tables and food. It isn’t about magazine cover worthy decorating. It isn’t about a house that is presented as perfectly clean at all times – and appearing as if no one really lives there or is welcome!

Don’t get me wrong. I love clean. But I’ll never forget a morning years ago when I was homeschooling 6 and had a baby who was not yet school age… I was expecting baby 8. It was about 10 in the morning and the day was well under way – older ones were working on their own, elementary aged were all on the floor of the sunroom reading, coloring or putting puzzles together. I had a baby girl on my hip and I heard a car coming up the driveway. The feeling I had was HORROR! And it only got worse. The lady (whom I considered a friend) approached the sunroom door and I answered. She walked in and the look of shock on her face matched what I felt in my heart: HORROR. The words she spoke next have never left my mind. “Joy! Don’t you know that cleanliness is next to godliness?”

Today, I would tell my younger self to look this dear lady square in the face and tell her that I’m pretty sure that quote is NOT from the Bible – and I’m also pretty sure that whoever said didn’t know much about real life in the really, really world. 🙂 But my younger self hung her head in shame, beat herself up for the next many years and pushed her children harder to help her keep the baseboards scrubbed!

Hospitality… Home… THIS is what it is… Providing a safe place for relationships to begin, to be built, to be nurtured. Period. It is loving as many people as we can possibly bring through the doors.

So, yesterday was cleaning day – and this morning, this is what I mopped up from my wood floor: with smiles and laughter as I thought through what all of this means. It means that last night (and most Friday nights) and many Saturday nights my yard, porch and house are filled with young men who come together and often spend the night on one of the couches. They all come from physical jobs and with muddy boots – and inevitably the following morning I can track exactly where they’ve been throughout the house. It could be frustrating – but I am SO thankful that they feel safe here, so thankful that they are coming here to communicate, to act like the youngsters that they are, to build relationships, and to ultimately help each other become better men. And yes – those things happen. Sometimes I’m in the midst of the conversations and other times, I encourage them to “DO RIGHT!” and leave them on their own. Often, my elder sons are here and get to invest in their lives as well.

It means that this is a place where family members can just show up – for 5 minutes or 5 days – whichever they need. They can sit and talk, they can curl up on the couch and take a nap, they can play games, they can play the piano and sing, they can have a business meeting, they can debate theology or current events. A place where anyone can walk in and open the fridge and grab something – or ask why I don’t have what they are looking for. 🙂 A place where couples can sneak in a late night hot tub date and know they are being granted privacy and time. A place where friends can stop in and say, “I need a hug or your thoughts on…” A place where whoever comes – knows they are welcome!

When the house is quiet and whoever is here is sleeping; I’m ok mopping the mud off of the floors, filling trash bags with evidence that people gathered, washing dishes that remind me that food was enjoyed, gathering towels that are proof that the hot tub was enjoyed, putting toys into toy boxes that assure me that my grandgirls and boys loved their time here… Hospitality isn’t about presentation; It’s about so much more!