So I know that some of you are completely overwhelmed by the idea of having people in your home. You may think that you have to have your house perfectly decorated and “finished.” You may think you have to impress your guests with your cooking abilities. You may think that there’s no way you could ever get to this point, so I thought I would share a little bit of my story of hospitality with you. (I do have a story about community to share with you- how I found my people- because I know that this is another place of worry for some.)

My mom loved hospitality. She loved to cook. She loved to invite. She frequently hosted people in our home for dinner, but not for fancy meals. She just invited them to come over and sit for coffee. There were college kids that would come over to do their laundry and watch TV. We just had people in our home, and we all loved it.

Inviting people in to see how you live is community. Letting people see you in your normal, every day state.

Now, while my mom didn’t host fancy parties, she could cook her heart out. She still can. She doesn’t use recipes. She just kind of does her own thing. (And she has been known to toast walnuts and burn them four times before she remembers to set a timer!)

My parents have moved a lot, and my mom lives in a town that doesn’t have a lot of great options for dining, so she invites. She has girlfriends over for lunch and families over for supper. She fixes a pretty salad or a simple pot of chili. But she doesn’t stress… she just invites and opens the door.

It wasn’t until Todd and I were engaged that I cooked food for anyone else. I was spending Thanksgiving away from my parents for the first time, but I wanted to take my favorite Thanksgiving recipes to my future in-laws’ home for Thanksgiving. I didn’t know how to bake a sweet potato! I didn’t know how to do anything. My sweet mom talked me through four different recipes because I was determined to eat some of my favorites that reminded me of home. I didn’t do it perfectly. I made a gigantic mess in Todd’s kitchen. But I was learning and I was going to serve my food to someone else.

As the years have gone on, I have gotten to where I love reading cookbooks to look for recipes that sound delicious, sound easy (if it uses a cooking term that I have to Google, I know it’s not a great option for me), and I give it a try. I rarely cook something for the first time when we’re hosting people for supper.

Because here’s what I want when we have people over… I want them to feel comfortable. I answer the door barefooted, and I want them to feel the freedom to take off their shoes. I want them to put their feet on the coffee table and sit down and lose themselves in conversation. I don’t use my fine China because it’s not something that’s comfortable for me.

I do try to have my vegetables chopped and my meal prepped before they arrive, so I can spend more time visiting. The last time we had people over, I dropped a drinking glass because I was too busy chatting to pay attention to what I was doing. I made a mess. We cleaned it up.

But having people in our home is not about our house or preparing a fancy meal. (If I burn it I know I can always order a pizza!) It’s about inviting people in. About letting them see our mess and the toys that inevitably end up on the kitchen counter. It’s about letting people know that I trust them enough to let them see the mess and hear the boys bicker. It’s about connecting people… meeting new friends and wanting to introduce them to old friends over dinner.

There are stains on the couch and I don’t have curtains. And my heart is just as flawed and imperfect. But if I don’t let people in to see those things, and if they’re shoved under the rug, I will never experience true community and the incredible fullness that comes from fellowship.

What’s your hospitality story? What are your fears? What holds you back?

This post is part of 31 days of breaking bread. 

If you’ve been reading around here for a while, you may remember that I wrote for 31 days on the topic of white space last year. I continue to hear from many of you about that topic, and it is something that I still have to speak into my own heart. In those 31 days, we explored the importance of carving out space in our hearts, our schedules, our physical spaces to make room for God to move. And to make room for the people in our lives. To make room for community. Because life happens in the white space.

This year, I’m going to write for 31 days about what that community can look like, and about imperfect hospitality. About feeling the strong urge to fill a home with noise and laughter and friends and their children. To make messes and not feel pressure to clean them up when a friend pops by to say hello.

I say “imperfect hospitality” because this series will not be about preparing fancy meals (though I will tell you about some of my favorite meals) and it will not be about preparing perfect fancy welcome baskets for overnight guests. It’s going to be about the heart behind community and what can happen when we are willing to get a little bit vulnerable, let down our guard, and open up our space and our tables to the people in our lives.

Last year when I wrote about white space, we were living in my husband’s grandmother’s home about thirty minutes away from our community. We were in such a dry place when it came to community. We felt removed and cut off. And we couldn’t wait to find ourselves settled again, in our community, so we could begin to foster relationships again. We wanted to use our home as a place for friends to gather and for our children to see the importance of those relationships in our lives.

Since January, we have hosted friends and family at our home at least twice a month, and it has blessed our socks off. In the coming days, I’ll talk more about that, but I just want you to know that it has been so good for me to throw perfection to the curb, get in my kitchen (or call the local pizza place) and become an inviter.

I’d love for you to join me this month, and I’d love to know what you’d like to hear about regarding community and hospitality.

Acts 2:42-47

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.