This is our story- best ministry for us is at kitchen table, over card games, dominos, and food-lots of food. How we met and how we minister and how we love. Kids always welcome, our bed broke once from 4yos jumping while adults praying. I am grateful my parents modeled we always have room for more and frozen pizza can always be the “more” food if needed. The intergenerational differences disappear over hames and community is built.
Thoughtful message, Rachel. The idol of productivity is a giant that needs felling, at least in my life. I pray to be more like your husband and peacefully forego my agenda to listen and welcome others home.
I always appreciate your writing. The scene where you ask your husband how he sits and listens long and his reply is, “This is what it means to be a pastor?” That’s going to remain with me for a long time.
This is so wonderfully written. We host every now and then, but I would love to host more. It's just hard to know when and how much because we find it often affects our young school aged children who get so tired when we change up the routine by having people over, especially for dinner, but then have to go to school the next day or behave in church. But maybe that's part of the sacrifice and risk we make and take as a whole family? I admire you for hosting with a toddler and newborn!
I loved reading this. My husband and I lived in central New York for the first 5 years of our marriage while we both completed graduate degrees. Our church family there was very beloved and we were incredibly blessed to experience the hospitality of one family who invited anyone and everyone over for lunch after church every Sunday. I was reminded of them while reading your post. We’ve now lived in North Dakota for a little over a year, and while we both grew up in the area, we’re still trying to find our community. We dearly miss our friends and the hospitality culture we experienced in New York, but I’m encouraged to both embrace the hospitality style here as well as work to invite more people in ourselves.
Rachel thank you for this timely writing! We lived in Iowa our entire lives until 8 years ago and moved to SC to be near our kids and grandkids! I do miss the familiarity of home and all that went with it, friends, family and going places that everyone knows your name! Your article challenged me to look at my new home in a different light, reminding me to step outside of my comfort zone making new friends with the gift of hospitality!
A beautiful and moving essay. We don’t have people over as much as I would like. I think it comes because I am overtaxed with to do’s lately and tired. I overdo the house cleaning more than I need too. I would hate anyone to think their child wasn’t free to make a mess-so probably the whole over cleaning thing is pride. I’ll work on that.
So good. I’m sitting here trying to respond without writing a book… hmmm. I identify with so much of what you’re saying here. I’m finding this practice of opening your home, your self, up to others, meeting a need, listening, welcoming them despite the differences, is a practice I’ve had to apply even in my own marriage. This hospitality despite our brokenness, (an introvert here too) is a sort of dying to self. It’s a way of loving someone. And it’s risky, but so worth it. I feel like learning to live and love others in the low desert of Arizona, in the burbs of this metropolis, with a husband who doesn’t share my faith has me noticing God at work in my life. I can’t be dependent on my strengths here. I have to be dependent on grace.
"It’s more that, when you move somewhere that isn’t home, you have to find ways to make it home." I haven't moved to a new town since I got married in 2004. We've moved houses, but always in the same town. Seven years ago, circumstances led us to leaving our longtime church (the one my husband grew up in and we married in, no less) and all the while, we stayed in the same town. That particular move has been the hardest of all the moves. I didn't want it then, and though it was necessary, so much of me still doesn't want it now. I miss our pastoral family who was forced to move away, and I miss a good chunk of the people we left behind. It's been hard to feel at home somewhere else...so the sentence you wrote about finding ways to make a new place home, stuck. I'm still not sure how to do that...it's lonely work, changing churches...but I'll keep trying!
This is just lovely, Rachel. I resonate with the occasional "I could be spending this time productively" thoughts when I'm listening to someone, when my husband can be fully present with the person in front of him. I think it's something for me to practice! My husband taught me, when at an event, to look around the room for who might be the most lonely, and go talk to them. Before saying goodbye, we try to ask, "What can I pray for you for this week?" Which has helped us to bring our friends' needs to God in our prayers more specifically and has deepened many of our friendships.
We host an open invite Friday dinner in our (small, lived-in with kids) home most Fridays year round. Over eight years, it's grown to a rotating crowd that's generally twenty adults and three to ten kids. Our peak this summer was 40 people and they had to spill out into our small backyard. There's someone new every week! We've absolutely experienced loaves and fish miracles of food stretching to feed more people than seemed possible and not run out. We say bringing a dish admired but not required, just bring yourself and a friend.
At one of our dinners, a new friend said, "You obviously grew up here, you know so many people." And we laughed. We moved here on our wedding day (morning wedding, lunch reception, highway driving with boxes in the car by the afternoon) knowing zero people in this entire city. The first year we didn't have any Christian friends our age; we were so lonely and hungry for friends. Eventually God led us to a beautiful, lively Catholic community of friends and it changed our lives. We remember that lonely feeling and want dinners to be a landing place, where anyone can invite any new friend they just met and connections can be made.
We invite people walking dogs in our neighborhood, families we meet at the library, and people we meet at church. People have made friends, found jobs, three couples who met at our dinners have gotten married (one friend I had already been calling "sent by the Holy Spirit" every time I said her name, eventually married my brother and became my sister-in-law!), and several new friends found Jesus in the Eucharist and have converted (which is all the Holy Spirit, all I do is cook). We've been so blessed by our openness to hosting. One person said, "You host EVERY week? That must really disrupt your life!" And I said, "This is my life!" What could I be doing that's more joy-filled than connecting people to each other and to Jesus?
Here's our encouragement to other people to try hosting:
This is our story- best ministry for us is at kitchen table, over card games, dominos, and food-lots of food. How we met and how we minister and how we love. Kids always welcome, our bed broke once from 4yos jumping while adults praying. I am grateful my parents modeled we always have room for more and frozen pizza can always be the “more” food if needed. The intergenerational differences disappear over hames and community is built.
Thoughtful message, Rachel. The idol of productivity is a giant that needs felling, at least in my life. I pray to be more like your husband and peacefully forego my agenda to listen and welcome others home.
Melissa McLaughlin
I always appreciate your writing. The scene where you ask your husband how he sits and listens long and his reply is, “This is what it means to be a pastor?” That’s going to remain with me for a long time.
This is so wonderfully written. We host every now and then, but I would love to host more. It's just hard to know when and how much because we find it often affects our young school aged children who get so tired when we change up the routine by having people over, especially for dinner, but then have to go to school the next day or behave in church. But maybe that's part of the sacrifice and risk we make and take as a whole family? I admire you for hosting with a toddler and newborn!
Beautifully written Rachel and thought provoking . You are a gifted author 💕
Thank you, friend!
Oh Rachel, I needed this so much😭 Thank you🙏
I loved reading this. My husband and I lived in central New York for the first 5 years of our marriage while we both completed graduate degrees. Our church family there was very beloved and we were incredibly blessed to experience the hospitality of one family who invited anyone and everyone over for lunch after church every Sunday. I was reminded of them while reading your post. We’ve now lived in North Dakota for a little over a year, and while we both grew up in the area, we’re still trying to find our community. We dearly miss our friends and the hospitality culture we experienced in New York, but I’m encouraged to both embrace the hospitality style here as well as work to invite more people in ourselves.
Rachel thank you for this timely writing! We lived in Iowa our entire lives until 8 years ago and moved to SC to be near our kids and grandkids! I do miss the familiarity of home and all that went with it, friends, family and going places that everyone knows your name! Your article challenged me to look at my new home in a different light, reminding me to step outside of my comfort zone making new friends with the gift of hospitality!
So beautiful, I love this.
A beautiful and moving essay. We don’t have people over as much as I would like. I think it comes because I am overtaxed with to do’s lately and tired. I overdo the house cleaning more than I need too. I would hate anyone to think their child wasn’t free to make a mess-so probably the whole over cleaning thing is pride. I’ll work on that.
So good. I’m sitting here trying to respond without writing a book… hmmm. I identify with so much of what you’re saying here. I’m finding this practice of opening your home, your self, up to others, meeting a need, listening, welcoming them despite the differences, is a practice I’ve had to apply even in my own marriage. This hospitality despite our brokenness, (an introvert here too) is a sort of dying to self. It’s a way of loving someone. And it’s risky, but so worth it. I feel like learning to live and love others in the low desert of Arizona, in the burbs of this metropolis, with a husband who doesn’t share my faith has me noticing God at work in my life. I can’t be dependent on my strengths here. I have to be dependent on grace.
You prod us firmly but gently Rachel.
Thank you.
"It’s more that, when you move somewhere that isn’t home, you have to find ways to make it home." I haven't moved to a new town since I got married in 2004. We've moved houses, but always in the same town. Seven years ago, circumstances led us to leaving our longtime church (the one my husband grew up in and we married in, no less) and all the while, we stayed in the same town. That particular move has been the hardest of all the moves. I didn't want it then, and though it was necessary, so much of me still doesn't want it now. I miss our pastoral family who was forced to move away, and I miss a good chunk of the people we left behind. It's been hard to feel at home somewhere else...so the sentence you wrote about finding ways to make a new place home, stuck. I'm still not sure how to do that...it's lonely work, changing churches...but I'll keep trying!
thats “games”- not hames- sorry
This is just lovely, Rachel. I resonate with the occasional "I could be spending this time productively" thoughts when I'm listening to someone, when my husband can be fully present with the person in front of him. I think it's something for me to practice! My husband taught me, when at an event, to look around the room for who might be the most lonely, and go talk to them. Before saying goodbye, we try to ask, "What can I pray for you for this week?" Which has helped us to bring our friends' needs to God in our prayers more specifically and has deepened many of our friendships.
We host an open invite Friday dinner in our (small, lived-in with kids) home most Fridays year round. Over eight years, it's grown to a rotating crowd that's generally twenty adults and three to ten kids. Our peak this summer was 40 people and they had to spill out into our small backyard. There's someone new every week! We've absolutely experienced loaves and fish miracles of food stretching to feed more people than seemed possible and not run out. We say bringing a dish admired but not required, just bring yourself and a friend.
At one of our dinners, a new friend said, "You obviously grew up here, you know so many people." And we laughed. We moved here on our wedding day (morning wedding, lunch reception, highway driving with boxes in the car by the afternoon) knowing zero people in this entire city. The first year we didn't have any Christian friends our age; we were so lonely and hungry for friends. Eventually God led us to a beautiful, lively Catholic community of friends and it changed our lives. We remember that lonely feeling and want dinners to be a landing place, where anyone can invite any new friend they just met and connections can be made.
We invite people walking dogs in our neighborhood, families we meet at the library, and people we meet at church. People have made friends, found jobs, three couples who met at our dinners have gotten married (one friend I had already been calling "sent by the Holy Spirit" every time I said her name, eventually married my brother and became my sister-in-law!), and several new friends found Jesus in the Eucharist and have converted (which is all the Holy Spirit, all I do is cook). We've been so blessed by our openness to hosting. One person said, "You host EVERY week? That must really disrupt your life!" And I said, "This is my life!" What could I be doing that's more joy-filled than connecting people to each other and to Jesus?
Here's our encouragement to other people to try hosting:
https://faithandwitness.org/2024/07/16/how-about-dinner/