I invited five women over to my home for muffins and coffee.
To be clear, the muffins and coffee part didn’t scare me. Neither did the number of women. What scared me was the fact that I didn’t know some of the women well and they didn’t even know each other’s names. The potential for a lot of awkward silence was high. Or worse—awkward conversations. 3 women were from my church, 1 woman I met during my kids’ swimming lessons, and 1 woman I met when I rang her doorbell and asked if she wanted to sell her house.
I invited them all over last week and was both surprised and pleased that they said they would. And then 3 hours before they came, I thought, “What am I doing? This could be a terribly awkward time! What if they don’t know what to say to each other?!”
See how little credit I gave them?
My two younger kids were home, so they helped me get ready. Miles swept the floor and put away a pile of books and toys. Karis put in a new trash bag and ate breakfast by herself (granted, she did not have very big jobs, but was helpful nonetheless). And both of them were expert greeters and kept their fighting to a minimum while the ladies were here. (They made up for it after they left, though. I think they have a quota of fights in a day that they have to reach. Ahem.)
I invited these women over to my home because I’m on a mission to build relationships with people. I want to build relationships with people in my church and in my community. I want to love people as Jesus loves me. I want to invite people to my home and make them feel welcome. Like family.
One of the women who visited this morning said, “Your home is very calming.” And I just don’t think I could get a better compliment than that. (Especially considering my two little ones had strewn magnet tiles and toys on the rug during the visit.)
My home is not just my home. It’s a tool. And I want it to be a tool for my family. But I want it to be a tool in God’s hands to use however, whenever, and for whoever he wants. A place of rest and refreshment. A place of laughter and joy. A safe place to cry and be open about the brokenness of life. A place where discipleship happens.
Isn’t God good to give us things we can use for him? He gave me time to make muffins and clean my house. He gave me friends who trust me enough to come into my home. He gave me children who are sweet helpers and make people feel at ease better than I ever could. He gave me a home that I can use to serve him and welcome others.