Do you do simple hospitality? Pancakes qualify along with a simple tap on the shoulder.
Our church is big by some standards. Not Texas standards or Florida or DC, but big all the same. Bigger than I was raised with and bigger today than ten years ago. Three campuses, mixed generations, a thriving kids program and a college department as big as the whole church I was raised in. Much to be grateful for. And I am grateful. I can prove it by showng you my daily Thankfuls log where I often jot down, "Thank you, Lord, for Tim (and Miles and Darren and Dori and Ceslie and Jessica (etc etc etc)— for our great Grace family that showers our family with love and grace." I write this in this pretty little journal. It reminds me to come first with thanksgiving (and a little later with my grumblings.)
I don't have a Daily Peeving Journal which is a good thing, but if I did I would jot this down:
I don't know everyone. This fact peeves me.
Church is about God and worship and growing up in Jesus. But it's also community. And family. I want to know everyone and hug on their necks and invite them for dinner and find out what's going on. But the thought of all that inviting and neck-hugging kinda wears me out. I don't think it's just my age.
Eight hundred to a thousand plus is too many for any family to keep up with and I had 22 cousins growing up—and that was just on my dad's side.
I get peeved. How can anyone keep up with eight hundred or more? Can you imagine how many leaves your Thanksgiving table would need, much less the number of sides required? I can't imagine. The jellos alone.
Most weeks our pastor says, "Meet someone you don't know today." I grumble and hrumpf a little under my breath: "Well, that's easy. I don't know most the people I can see from my pew!"
Hrumpfing isn't a spiritual gift, so I stand up and tap a stranger on the shoulder and soldier on: "Hi, I'm Sue. I'm sorry I haven't met you."
I feel better starting with an apology. A sincere one. I AM sorry I haven't met you. (And you, as well.)
Sometimes they say, "Oh, yes, we've met." (Another apology.) Or they say, "I've been attending Grace for five years."
"Oh," again, an apology. They understand. After all, it's a big family.
SHOULDER TAPPING
One Sunday the shoulder tapping paid off in spades. I met these three college students, asked them for dinner a week from Tuesday.
Mom would've invited them then and there for two roasted chickens on time-bake. She did simple hospitality and it worked for her. I'm not exactly my mom and I knew I was free a week from Tuesday.
An hour later at a restaurant, I got to talking to our server (in that way, I am like my mom 100%.) Another college girl, this server had visited Grace Church but she admitted she wasn't attending anywhere, currently. And, yes, she did want to join us all for dinner a week from Tuesday, and she did. They all came and they loved Holli-dog, the food, the conversation and the ridiculous story of how Mark and I met.
COLLEGE STUDENTS
College students are friendly in general, and hungry as a rule. And I know their mothers are praying some old lady will invite them for dinner.
I like being an answer to a mother's prayer, don't you? Maybe we need to start with praying for ourselves;
"Lord help me be the answer to a mother's prayer today."
(I thought you'd never ask, he might reply.)
In February three swimmers from our local junior college were the ones sitting in front of us. Tanned with bleached hair from all that chlorine and big smiles, they said yes to chocolate chip pancakes after church. I told them to please drive slowly on their way to our home—I knew I had some counters and a table to clear. They were not that slow and they brought along another swimmer—very tall and hungry. He thoroughly enjoyed the pancakes and sausage and fruit salad that the girls help me make.
College students are friendly, hungry and somehow sense that it's okay to bring along extras as if the pancake mix is like pots of oil in Elijah's time. (This time it was. I'm grateful.) Someone needs to write a book on the joys of pancake mix and chocolate chips. I'm too busy, sorry.
Many others came for Easter a little later on in the Spring.
I became friends with one in particular. She's off to the Coast Guard as of last week. And not allowed to use her cell phone for a couple months so writing letters it will be!
Who will sit in front of you this Sunday? Or is it easier for you to turn around and greet the stranger behind? Since God has this community thing in hand, it really doesn't matter—as long as we stretch out our hand and make a friend. You could be an answer to a mother's prayer. I can think of worse things.
INVITED TO INVITE
I need to stop being peeved and start being grateful. We were invited by God to his table just so we can extend the invitation. Invited to invite. Who needs to know they have not been left behind?
Curmudgeonly yours,
Sue
PS Need ideas for what to serve those hungry college students? Here's one: Crock-Pot Lasagne. Here's another: Tammy's Oven BBQ Chicken.Here's another: Cheesy Amish Breakfast Casserole. All easy. I'm a simple cook. It keeps me from being quite so peevish.
I can help you with simple hospitality. It can change your life, not only the lives of those you invite. See which fits and would help. I'm here to help, time-bake or not. Read about them here:
THE UNFUSSY HOST BUNDLE 5.99
7 DAYS TO SIMPLE HOSPITALITY 7.99
HOSPITALITY MADE SIMPLE PRINTABLE PLANNER 24.99
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