Hospitality...

My new grandson is just so precious!  And every time I've sat down to write a post in the last two weeks, I've had an opportunity to hold him, instead, so my daughter and son-in-law can get some sleep.  The sacrifices a nanna will make...  I woke up at 4:00 this morning, so I thought I would take advantage of the quiet to write about hospitality. 

My husband and I talked, before we got married, about how hospitality was going to be an important part of our life.  Both of us grew up in hospitable homes so it seemed like the normal thing to do and it has been an important aspect of our lives and ministry in our home; so much so that our daughters all practice hospitality in their homes, as well.

When our youngest daughter came to see her newest nephew, she handed me a book that a friend had given her and said that I would probably enjoy reading it.  She was right!  I am planning on purchasing my own copy of this delightful book - Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist.  It is full of honest stories of life and the importance of hospitality in ministering to herself, her family and other people along with recipes.  Here is a sample of her philosophy of hospitality:

I believe every person should be able to make the simple foods that nourish them, that feel familiar and comforting, that tell the story of who they are.  Each one of us should be able to nourish ourselves in the most basic way and to create meals and traditions around the table that tell the story of who we are to the people we care about.  And the only way to get there is to start where you are.

She goes on to encourage people who don't know how to cook to invite people over and order pizza.  Serve the pizza with bagged salad and bottled dressing. 

Focus on making people comfortable, on creating a space protected from the rush and chaos of daily life, a space full of laughter and safety and soul.

The next time or the time after that, try grilled flatbread pizzas, and make your own vinaigrette for the salad.  The next time, try a dessert and an appetizer, and little by little, build a sense of muscle memory, a body of knowledge, a set of patterns for how your home and your heart open and expand when the people you love are gathered around your table.

It takes some time to learn, to try and fail and make a mess and try again.  It takes even longer to get truly comfortable, to feel at home with a knife in your hand, to read through recipes as a guideline or set of ideas, to read through and add your preferences and tastes, your history and perspective.  But it's a lovely process, with not a minute wasted.  If you put in the time, the learning, the trying, the mess, and the failure, at the end you will have learned to feed yourself and the people you love, and that's a skill for life -  like tennis or piano but yummier and far less expensive.

I'm not talking about cooking as performance, or entertaining as a complicated choreography of competition and showing off.  I'm talking about feeding someone with honesty and intimacy and love, about making your home a place where people are fiercely protected, even if just for a few hours, from the crush and cruelty of the day.

 It's a perspective on hospitality that my honey and I practice - making people feel nourished in our home with food and love, providing a place where they can kick off their shoes and relax and talk about their struggles without judgment. You can provide that for the people you love, too.  Just simply start where you are. 

More to come:  hospitality and special dietary restrictions