I was cramming to tidy up. It wasn't stressing me out, but I was in a rush. His question held water though: Why? He was right, my friends probably don't care. To be perfectly honest, this friend in particular wouldn't be likely to even notice if the toilet was dirty or not.
So, why? I've been sitting with this question for awhile. Truth is, I think that I "bother" because it isn't really a bother. For me, it is an act of love. I show my friends love by giving them a clean toilet. It is an integral part of how I do hospitality. If I know that I have people coming into my home, even just one person- I try to do three things 1) pick up the Legos that can kill, 2) vacuum the dog hair that is an unwelcome parting gift and 3) wipe down my toilets, just... little boy pee.... I might even purposefully light a candle in quiet expectation. This little routine brings me joy. It helps build the excitement of the pending guest arrival.
When Husband asked me "why?"- it made me uneasy, as if he were accusing me of something. He wasn't, but there is something about having your head in the toilet that makes you question all sorts of things.
Really though, his toilet scrubbing inquiry itched an insecurity in me and made me wonder if maybe I do this cleaning-up routine as part of an act:
Do I clean up to impress?
To be something that I am not?
The answer is maybe. It is always a possibility because who doesn't want to be photographed from their "good" side or be seen in the best possible light? 'Tis human.
I don't think that is my deal though. At least not in this instance. If it was, I would experience some sort of shame when people arrive unexpectedly and my house isn't "guest ready." But I don't.
If need be, I might offer the guest a more pee-free toilet in the house as a gesture of good will, but the toilet in question won't make me feel badly about myself. There are many things that bring on The Shame, however a messy house just isn't one of them for me. (Now, being perceived as inauthentic, as evidenced above- that is a HUGE Shame trigger for this gal.)
Acts of Service is my primary love language. For as long as I can remember, the nicest thing I could do for my mom was clean up the house. If she was mad at me (for something I surely didn't do), I could clean and it would be my peace-pipe offering. I don't know if I was actually born good at it, or if I have just had a lot of practice- since I might have made her mad a lot (never for back talking or being mouthy, of course).
In my experience, visiting in my mess makes for just as good conversation as when the mess is less.
Sometimes even better.
Acts of Service is my primary love language. For as long as I can remember, the nicest thing I could do for my mom was clean up the house. If she was mad at me (for something I surely didn't do), I could clean and it would be my peace-pipe offering. I don't know if I was actually born good at it, or if I have just had a lot of practice- since I might have made her mad a lot (never for back talking or being mouthy, of course).
Regardless of the reason, as my friend Jaci might say: I can clean like a beast.
In high school my favorite family to babysit for started paying me to come clean their house instead! Heck, aside from my beautiful feet, my great claim to fame during my summers at Deer Valley Ranch was how clean I could make a bathroom. It has been a glamorous life I have lived, I know. Restrain your jealousy, please.
Part of MY hospitality story includes clean toilets. I welcome you into my home with the hope that you will be able to sit on a clean one. But that's not all of my story! Just as clean toilets may have no part in yours.
Part of MY hospitality story includes clean toilets. I welcome you into my home with the hope that you will be able to sit on a clean one. But that's not all of my story! Just as clean toilets may have no part in yours.
Reality is, I have four kids who don't believe in a clean house. So my house is rarely as organized/clean/sanitary/delightfully scented as I would like, but I have (slowly) come to peace with this. Or possibly just given up hope. Yet it has been in this journey of seeking peace in my messes that I have discovered that my hospitality story is so much bigger than "just a clean toilet." Because even if the toilet doesn't get cleaned for you, I have more to offer: me.
And you have more to offer: YOU.
Hospitality is a a gift of WHO we are and all the things we have been given.
How we do hospitality- this welcoming of others into our hearts and lives via our home- provides a sneak peak, behind the scenes snapshot to our guests of who we really are and what we truly have to offer others. If that last sentence frightened you in any way- stay with me, okay?
My mom and dad, their hospitality story, at least when we were young, included a whole lot of chaos. And my friends LOVED it and STILL talk about it. In fact, one such friend informed me that she created her own big brood just because she loved my childhood chaos so much.
My friend Missy, her hospitality story is play. She is just a fun person with a fun family. Pools, playgrounds, games, toys, four-wheelers, laughter; I have never been to her home and not played something fun.
Di? Elegance. I just feel more fancy and peaceful being with her and in her home.
My brother Nate and his wife Jayme? Food. You will leave their home well fed with something delicious every time.
My Godfather and his daughter, my cousin Christy? Both of their homes are havens of really good, smart conversation, food and an atmosphere of being fully welcomed. Hospitality is one of their genuine gifts.
Deanne? Coziness and warmth and belly laughs.
My friend Kristi- her hospitality story is real life. When you enter her home or her circle of friendship, you will feel like you are part of her family. (She will have no qualms about putting you to work either, consider yourself warned.)
Abby? Good coffee and hugs and a GORGEOUS home. Plus this desire for everyone to feel utterly loved and seen.
My grandma? Hers was not so good coffee, cookies, cable TV and lots of talking.
I love it- all of it. I could go on and on. So many dear people, homes and hospitality stories. NONE, of who have exactly the same set of gifts. NONE, of whom is perfect. You know why? Because NONE of us are identical and NONE of us perfect.
This is where all the people say: AMEN.
We invite people into our homes to share a blessing. Since all of our blessings are different, all of our hospitality acts will be different. Sure, social media and the world have a ton to say about what "good" hospitality looks like: white furniture, dust free tables, soft music, quiet children, dinner, drinks, dessert, a fully dressed hostess with a shower and make up- probably teeth brushed too, organized book shelves, matching dishes, decorated walls... Those pictures are simply pretty lies we have come to believe as normal.
Sadly, I believe that because most of us can't make those glossy pictures a reality, many of us shy away from hospitality. (But, if you DO have a friend whose gift is a magazine worthy house... rejoice! Those houses and people can teach you a lot about decorating and finesse, so take note!) However, for the majority of us we are scared our house, routines, families- our actual selves just aren't good enough. And sweet Moses that is SUCH A LIE and a perfect example of the wisdom in using the Bible as a lamp to real life, instead of Pinterest.
The Bible tell us what hospitality is really supposed to be about. And guess what? As Jesus people- we already possess what it takes. Sorry, there are no good excuses for not being hospitable. Depending on how you feel about our call to hospitality in general, I guess that is either good or bad news.
In the beginning of John 13, Jesus, in the washing of His disciple feet gives us what I believe to be the most perfectly beautiful picture of hospitality. Only Jesus, the Son of Man- with no actual earthly home to call his own, could use a borrowed apartment room to teach us about how to use our own houses well.
Here is the Cliff's Notes version of John 13:1-17: Jesus is eating his last Passover meal with his disciples, his betrayal and crucifixion are imminent. He knows this, but his disciples are unaware. In the middle of dinner Jesus gets up, takes off his outer clothes, gets down with a bowl of water and proceeds to act like a household servant. He begins to wash the stinking, nasty, dirty feet of his students, his apprentices, his disciples.
The Teacher washes the feet of His students.
All the feet. There were at least 24 feet in that room and 120 toes with toenails. When he was done Jesus gets up, looks at them and says:
I don't think he washed their feet so that we would all go around trying to actually wash people's feet. I mean, by all means go ahead if that is your thing. Heaven knows my beautiful feet delight in a good pedicure. But, I believe this was meant as a living, breathing picture for us:
I have a house. I have some gifts. I have people in my life, outside of my family, who I can invite into that house and share those gifts. As usual, Jesus has left me a crystal clear calling without any good excuses, "You also should wash one another's feet."
What does feet washing look like in this time of tennis shoes and socks? It is an offering up of what we have been given. Not just the material stuff either. It is an offering up of all the things- Of our self, our gifts, our blessings, our homes, our tables, our food, our toilets, our fire pits, our grills, our families, our stories, and even our messes.
I really, really believe this: WE ARE ALL GOOD AT SOMETHING. Servant-hood and hospitality can really be as simple as doing that SOMETHING for the people in our lives and within our sphere of influence.
I know that doing this feet washing thing in our homes, inviting people into our sacred spaces can be scary and anxiety provoking. It can feel like extra work or just "not the right season." And sometimes in my experience it is, all of those things. But Jesus isn't going to leave us hanging, in fact he gives us a promise on this one,
So yeah, I clean toilets. That is part of my feet washing hospitality process. But as a family, we also host potlucks (cooking stresses me out). We BBQ, roast 'mallows, drink beers and let kids run a muck (outside!) without judgement. I will talk your ear off and ask you whatever deep, heart question that has been on my mind lately. I will let you see me hollar at my own kids and even be real with my husband. My cups don't match and I own not one proper serving bowl. I even re-use red Solo cups. I will hopefully get to laugh with you and maybe cry with you and when you leave I will feel a little tired (introvert casualty), but a lot full.
"Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them." (John 13:14-17)
This is such a heart wrenching picture of servant hood and what Christianity can look like. Serving others in messy, vulnerable and unexpected ways- without seeking power or reward in return. And he did it with what he had in the realm of earthly possessions: nothing. Even His donkey was on loan.I don't think he washed their feet so that we would all go around trying to actually wash people's feet. I mean, by all means go ahead if that is your thing. Heaven knows my beautiful feet delight in a good pedicure. But, I believe this was meant as a living, breathing picture for us:
- Jesus used what he had to bless. What he had available in that moment was some water and a towel and a true servants heart. (Of course he also had the key to everlasting life- but I am sticking to the feet part right now.)
- Jesus had no shame in his lack of a big, pretty house to share with his guests. He knew heaven is the only real big, pretty house that will remain,
- Jesus showed us that hospitality requires openness. Taking off ones outer clothes to kneel before big, smelly feet? That is vulnerability.
- He showed us that there is risk. People might not appreciate our efforts or judge us for who we are and what we are trying to do- but that cannot deter us. We can't just welcome people we like or who will do something for us in return. Judas was about to betray him, Jesus knew it and still, he washed his feet.
- Jesus showed us that hospitality meets a need. The feet in that day needed washing! And oh, how we as people need to feel welcomed, to be given a place where loneliness fades and we feel like we matter that we are part of something bigger.
I have a house. I have some gifts. I have people in my life, outside of my family, who I can invite into that house and share those gifts. As usual, Jesus has left me a crystal clear calling without any good excuses, "You also should wash one another's feet."
What does feet washing look like in this time of tennis shoes and socks? It is an offering up of what we have been given. Not just the material stuff either. It is an offering up of all the things- Of our self, our gifts, our blessings, our homes, our tables, our food, our toilets, our fire pits, our grills, our families, our stories, and even our messes.
I really, really believe this: WE ARE ALL GOOD AT SOMETHING. Servant-hood and hospitality can really be as simple as doing that SOMETHING for the people in our lives and within our sphere of influence.
I know that doing this feet washing thing in our homes, inviting people into our sacred spaces can be scary and anxiety provoking. It can feel like extra work or just "not the right season." And sometimes in my experience it is, all of those things. But Jesus isn't going to leave us hanging, in fact he gives us a promise on this one,
"Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them." John 13:17
See that is God’s blessing to me, the fullness. Because hospitality- when done with a servants heart, as an outpouring of the blessings I have been given- it will fill me up. It is a gift that gives more gift.
Please hear this, I don't believe our call to hospitality is necessarily a call to do more. More work, or more effort or more striving to be a "good" Christian. In fact, I think it is meant to be the opposite. It is an invitation for us to invite people into our NOW- whatever our now looks like, however clean or organized our now is- that is where people want to be with us. It seems to me that we all just want to be invited to a place of genuine love and genuine living so we can be our real selves and live our real lives out loud.
It takes courage. Being open and vulnerable always does. But we who stand on His word are a courageous bunch of people. At least we have invitation to be. So let’s step out in courage and invite others in. And may our homes be havens of imperfect servant-hood for all who enter our doors. Bring on the toilet scrubbing or coffee brewing or feet washing- whatever it is that you do best.
Please hear this, I don't believe our call to hospitality is necessarily a call to do more. More work, or more effort or more striving to be a "good" Christian. In fact, I think it is meant to be the opposite. It is an invitation for us to invite people into our NOW- whatever our now looks like, however clean or organized our now is- that is where people want to be with us. It seems to me that we all just want to be invited to a place of genuine love and genuine living so we can be our real selves and live our real lives out loud.
It takes courage. Being open and vulnerable always does. But we who stand on His word are a courageous bunch of people. At least we have invitation to be. So let’s step out in courage and invite others in. And may our homes be havens of imperfect servant-hood for all who enter our doors. Bring on the toilet scrubbing or coffee brewing or feet washing- whatever it is that you do best.
Invite us into it.
Won't you please?
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