Your husband is right. The event need not be elaborate to be significant. Don't listen to the Martha Stewart voice that says everything must be perfect. The house must be perfect. The china must be perfect. Meal. Kids. Husband. Scented guest towels, warm appetizers, after-dinner mints. Everything must be perfect.
If we wait until everything is perfect, we'll never issue an invitation.
It's no accident that hospitality and hospital come from the same Latin word, for they both lead to the same result: healing. When you open your door to someone, you are sending this message: "You matter to me and to God." You may think you are saying, "Come over for a visit." But what your guest hears is, "I'm worth the effort."
Do you know people who need this message? Singles who eat alone? Young couples who are far from home? Seniors who no longer drive? Some people pass an entire day with no meaningful contact with anyone else. Your hospitality can be their hospital. All you need are a few basic practices.
Issue a genuine invitation. Let your guests know you want them to come. Call them on the phone, or step over to their desks at work. People weather so many daily rejections. The doctor can't see them. The kids didn't call. The airplane is booked. But then you invite them over. We have room for you! Life altering.
Make a big deal of their arrival. Gather the entire family at the front door. Swing it open as you see them approach. If you have a driveway, meet them on it. If your apartment complex has a lobby, be waiting for them. This is a parade-worthy moment. One of God's children is coming to your house!
Address the needs of your guests. First-century hospitality included footwashing. Modern-day hospitality includes the sharing of food and drink. Time to talk and listen. No televisions blaring in the background. No invasive music.
Send them out with a blessing. Make it clear you are glad your guest came. Offer a prayer for their safety and a word of encouragement for their travel.
Remember this: what is common to you is a banquet to someone else. You think your house is small, but to the lonely heart, it is a castle. You think the living room is a mess, but to the person whose life is a mess, your house is a sanctuary. You think the meal is simple, but to those who eat alone every night, pork and beans on paper plates tastes like file mignon. What is small to you is huge to them.
By: Max Lucado