Hospitality and Motherhood

Happy New Year friends! 

I have been writing this post in my mind for the past few weeks but it never made it into a draft on my computer because well--we’ve all have been sick (with the miraculous exception of Aaron) . For what feels like 5678 days. It’s been driving me crazy. We are a normally a healthy family but I suppose these things happen. We will prevail, thanks to some help from modern medicine. At the moment my home wouldn't be considered a prime place to practice hospitality (germs). But, it’s something that I want to write about because it’s my ‘word’ going into the New Year. Hospitality. What does that exactly mean? What does it mean for me? Well, it’s a word that has been popping into my mind recently and I have a vague idea about what I’m supposed to do with it.

Motherhood. That’s the season I’m in, motherhood, young motherhood. Little ones running from one place to another. Odds and ends lying about, dirty dishes in the sink and clean ones on the counter. Shoes in front of the door (tripping me in the kitchen) and piles of papers and laundry that need sorting—that’s my life. I know that it’s normal. I know that it’s OK. I know that I shouldn’t feel ashamed. I know not to expect perfection in any form. I know these things. But, I’m telling you—when there is a knock at my door I cringe. Like, freeze— I’m a deer in the woods and I hear a tree branch snap. Should I hide? Wait, am I wearing a bra? Do you think they know I’m here? My car's parked in the driveway but that could be anyone's. They can definitely hear Peppa piping through the walls but we may have left without turning off the TV? What…do..I…freaking…do…..?! Well, answer the door—politely and a bit awkwardly. Is this you? Has this ever been you? Can you relate? I sure hope so. Haha. 

Now that my door is open, I find myself apologizing for the state of my affairs. My home or my appearance.  I apologize to the person stopping at home of young children and a tired mother. My classic line is “please excuse the mess…ect.” or "please excuse me, I haven't gotten ready yet." It may be 4 o'clock in the afternoon.  Essentially, please excuse us for living here. It’s embarrassing that it’s embarrassing. Everyone assures me that it’s ok and I know that it is. I’ll sometimes hear, it’s ok we’ve been there or we know what it’s like to have little ones so don’t worry about it. But I do.  And, I’m telling you- the 'state of affairs' aren't even that bad, usually. Nonetheless I feel the need to each time apologize—no matter what the disorder of my surrounds are. Why? Why do we do this? I still can’t figure it out, the compulsive, knee-jerk response.

I’ll give you one more scenario. It’s mid to late afternoon, I’m standing in front of the fridge begging it to give me answers. I have options but I don’t know what I want. I’m tired but I refuse to pull out a frozen pizza. My oldest will be home from school shortly. I have a 4 day messy bun in need of serious wash and I’m almost certain that I’ve been wearing this shirt for two days now, if not more. My phone rings and Aaron’s picture flashes on the screen. This could mean one of a few different things. Either he’s going to be running late so I’m already flinching. I have a fussy toddler bolted to my calf and I've been counting down the moments until backup arrives. Or-- it means something is changing with our normal, routine plans. Such as he's invited someone over for dinner—or thinks that we should. I know the precise words used to start that conversation. “Hey! What would you think if we….” No! In my mind I’m screaming NO. Internally, in my mind I’m giving all the excuses.  The untidy home, my appearance, the crumbs, the toys, the prep, the work. The sheer exhaustion of the mere thought of hosting. The preparation, cooking and clean up after more than our family. Also- what am I to cook for a crowd at last minutes notice? 

Now, please don’t get me wrong. I love to host. My home is my sanctuary and I love to share its warmth with others. I designed everything about it to revolve around inviting people in to sit and stay a while. I enjoy planning a well thought out and planned dinner party as much as any other 2w3 enneagram but the spontaneous hospitality is where I struggle. The idea of ‘last minute’ in the middle of everyday life makes me tense. So, guys—how do I cope with this? How do I do better with spontaneous hospitality? Well, that’s what I’m here to figure out this year. It’s my 2019 mission.

So, I think to start off the year I’ll try a few new things:

- First, get everyone well and healthy so that my home is an optimal hosting environment.

- Secondly, stop waiting for everything to look picture-perfect before I let anyone through the door to sit around our table. Odds are they don’t care what it looks like in the first place.

- Thirdly, start having something on hand in the pantry (apart from our weekly menu) that could feed a few extra mouths. Like chili ingredients since there’s always ground beef in the freezer.

- Lastly, stop apologizing for living life with kids—or at least try to. 

I’m hoping my journey to better hospitality will be fulfilling in many ways. Nourish bodies and souls, that of our own and of others. 

Peter 4:9 | "Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling."