For much of my life as a young woman, I have carried a preconceived notion that hospitality was more of an aesthetic presentation than a condition of the heart. I always liked the idea of being hospitable but struggled to understand how to get there. I thought it looked like a great big house, with a long table for everyone to sit around, a Better Homes & Gardens worthy spread laid out, gifts for my guests to take home with them. I thought it looked like a clean home, a stocked fridge, matching dishes. I struggled with the idea of how to be hospitable if I had shared living space with others that I had to he mindful of, if I didn’t have the means to host a “big to-do”. I figured that hospitality would be something that would have to come later in life when I had a home of my own, when I was more settled.

Life often works out very differently than the pictures that we have in our heads, and – in God’s loving kindness – we are often shown that the things we wish for, have a lot more to do with the condition of our hearts than the means of our circumstances.

Some seasons of life come without a home of your own. Some come without family gathered around the same table. Some come with borrowed spaces and shared kitchens. Some come with living out of suitcases. And yet, the call to be hospitable does not disappear in those seasons. If anything, it is in those seasons that we learn the art and gift of hospitality.

At it’s core, hospitality has very little to do with the material possessions and everything to do with how you live. It is not about entertaining, as much as it is about making room. It is a quiet decision that each person must make to live open-handed instead of closed off. Sometimes hospitality looks like being still, listening well, being intentional – just as much as it looks like offering a meal or opening your doors to visitors.

Let me ask you this… What is more meaningful? That which is given out of abundance and costs the giver nothing, or that which is given out of lack but given with a generous, joyful, and willing heart? We see in the gospel of Mark, that the poor widow’s pennies did more for the Kingdom of God than all the other riches put into the treasury. We see so clearly, that it is not our means that we are measured by but our hearts, our generosity, our willingness to live open-handedly and hospitably.

I have lived in many different circumstances throughout my short 25 years long life. I have lived at home, under the covering of my mom. I have lived with roommates. I have lived with a significant other. I have lived on couches and out of a suitcase. And now, I am moving to live alone. In a home of my own-where I am ‘free’ to host as I wish. I have had many great models of hospitality in all seasons of life.

My mom, Ms. Jill or GiGi – as she is so lovingly referred to – set the standard of the importance of having a hospitable spirit/heart from a very early age. We did not always have much, but what we did have was always offered and shared with others. I remember growing up and always having a home full of friends coming and going. The door was always open. My mom was always willing. My mom is Jewish by birth but was saved and converted to Christianity in her 20s. Us kids were raised with many of the Jewish traditions, holidays, and principles woven throughout our daily life in a quiet – usually unspoken – way. Much of Jewish culture rests on being charitable and hospitable. In fact, it is entrenched into daily life. Jewish culture carries hospitality in its bones-it is shaped by the deep understanding of what it means to be welcomed and wandering. Having that background helped to shape my mom’s perspective on what it means to be a cheerful giver-despite often not having much to give. Thus, giving me first-hand understanding and knowledge of a life lived in service of others.

There are many ways to practice hospitality. In your conversations – remembering someone’s name, asking thoughtful questions, being fully present. In your silence – truly listening to others and offering the space for them to be heard. In holding space for grief, doubt, joy, celebration, frustration, and all the things that come with life.

In Scripture, we see time and time again that God’s heart is turned toward to the stranger, the outsider, the weary, the forgotten and invisible. Jesus Himself, often without a ‘proper’ place to lay His head each night, allowed Himself to be interruptible and giving. His very presence was the proverbial table that people of all walks sought to gather around and eat a meal at. He lived with RADICAL openness. He noticed the overlooked. He lingered. He made Himself available.

This tells me that hospitality begins in the heart long before it shows up in our homes.

Practicing hospitality changes our very being. It softens us. It humbles us. It grows us. It refines us. We can become more patient, more compassionate, more present, more rooted, more generous, and – by default – more joyful. We can learn to see the beauty in simplicity. We can learn that our worth is not measured on what we can offer. We can learn that home is not merely a place – it is a posture.

A Hospitable Heart is intrinsically important because it reflects a truth about the character of God, as well as the nature of humanity. We were created to belong – to live in communion with others – to serve – to have open doors, open hands, and open hearts.

No matter the season that you are in, no matter what your life looks like, or what circumstances you find yourself surrounded by, you already have everything that you need to be hospitable.

I leave you with this – “If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness.” Isaiah 58:10