Happy Wednesday, church family!
When I was growing up, I remember a time I was angrily cleaning the bathroom. It made no sense to me why I had to clean it- just because my parents had friends coming over. Why do things need to be cleaned for other people? It wasn’t that bad, it was fine just the way it was. Fast forward many years, to the day my dad was helping Dave move the week we got married. He took one look at Dave’s absolutely disgusting room (seriously, there were moldy coffee mugs and a dead pet newt), turned to me, and said, “You sure about this?” Over the years, we’ve both gotten better. Uncleanliness and mess still do not bother Dave, but he knows I’ve morphed into a, “I feel much better when it’s not a disaster” person, so he’ll try to keep things tidy.
Somehow, my preference for a clean house mutated from ‘who cares’, to ‘yeah, I need it clean’, to where I recently realized I am: “it’s clean now so don’t do anything to mess it up.” Let’s dive a little deeper into what that entails. For one thing, I don’t remember the last time I opened our house for our small group to meet. When people are here, I find myself irritable, cleaning up behind them, and making sure dishes are put away. Oddly, this is a strange juxtaposition with my “oh well” attitude when something spills. I just shrug and calmly get a towel. It was this slide during Andy’s sermon this Sunday that made me realize what has been happening:
Deception doesn't feel like deception; it feels like a reasonable thought you didn't question. You recognize deception not by how extreme it is, but by how quietly it shifts what you believe, feel, or do.
I have always loved having the gift of hospitality. At one point, we hosted three families, 17 people in total, and another time, our friends with nine kids were surprised when we offered to host them as well. All my girls’ friends know they are welcome here, and my pantry is open for them to rummage through. We even housed a schizophrenic refugee from the Paradise fires, no problem. Yet recently, I’ve found my attitude about our home openness shifting, and I don’t like it. I've realized the enemy's soft, quiet whispers, which created worries over cleanliness and order, have been squelching my love of opening our home to people. Friends, I’ve been slowly deceived. NOT COOL. NO MORE, SATAN!
Jesus gave Dave and I the gift of hospitality, and we really do love opening our home to friends and family. It brings us joy to love others through cooking, baking, and just providing a safe place for people to land. So now, with this realization, I am choosing to take back my gift of hospitality. I choose to believe that when I am following Jesus’ lead, and serving others in my home, that it is NOT a burden, that it is a privilege and a joy! I reject the lie that I have to keep things in my home “just so”, without disarray, and that inviting more people into it brings more love, not chaos! (Okay, depending on the number of teenagers, there may be chaos- but there can be joy in chaos!)
Jesus, thank You for the gifts You have given me, and for my love of people. I take back that love that I have allowed to be tainted. I invite You into this area of my life. Let’s bring the people back to Casa Bartle! Bless and seal these good things in me, in Your name, amen!
May your week be blessed,
Lisa
