“That house was...'a perfect house, whether you liked food or sleep or story-telling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all.' Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear, and sadness.”
It started with their challenge to post about someone with whom we had experienced incredible hospitality. And I realized I had such a flood of names and faces that came to mind.
I grew up surrounded by extended family, blessed to be part of a small community that cared for each other, was welcomed into the homes of many friends throughout my childhood and early adulthood, have been part of church families that felt truly like families, enjoyed sharing life with wonderful colleagues, and have lived in cultures beyond my own that have embraced me and my family and that model true hospitality.
One of the people who has been on my mind a lot lately is my great-grandmother. She had a gift and she used it faithfully to bless anyone around her with loving presence. I think of the quote about Elrond's house. Her home and her presence refreshed body and soul. She was a great cook, but more than that, everything she touched just tasted wonderful, even Wonder bread and bologna sandwiches. Hospitality has usually been linked closely in my mind to food. There is something about breaking bread with someone, about someone sharing of their sustenance and their time and their culture to offer something to feed the person that has been welcomed into the home. My great-grandmother always kept a batch of these cookies in her freezer, along with other treats, so there was always something to pull out when a visitor stopped by. The cookies were tasty, but I think it was also about the fact that she had prepared herself for your visit before you even considered it yourself. She made her food and offered it with love, gracefully refreshing the person in front of her.
In her later years, when she or great-grandpa needed various nurses to come in to check on or work with them, all of them consistently commented on the time they spent praying for people and the peace in their home. She cared deeply for people, and she poured out herself in time and effort and presence to bless those with the gifts she'd been given.
As I've thought again recently many times over the topic of hospitality, I have felt a loss in the current times. I miss having people in my home. I miss preparing food to treat those who enter. I have struggled to know how to bless those around me in this time, and I still don't have a lot of clarity on that. But I know that, in any season, I hope to have some small glimpse of Elrond or my great-grandma in their presence and grace to BE that kind of place that blesses and refreshes weary souls, that is grounded in the Presence and a humble enough vessel to offer some small glimpse to dear ones of Home. As I prepared a batch of these cookies that make me feel so nostalgic, I once again prayed for those who I hoped to extend these simple offerings to. I don't doubt that the cookies themselves are a very small thing indeed, but I hope they speak even some small whisper of Home and of being loved and welcomed into a much bigger and greater Presence than mine! I have been incredibly blessed in my life, not just with resources and models for hopefully cooking well, but with love and grace, and whether I can have people in my home right now or not, I pray for those to be poured out on the precious lives around me.
