Hey, that’s not yours.
That gift? God gave it to you.
That possession? Yeah, that’s from God.
That home? That ability? That breath?
All such things are gifts, are grace, are merely ours to steward as God assigns us.
When hubs and I were looking for a place to live here, we wanted to continue what we’d loved doing in San Francisco – opening our home to our community and those who needed a place to rest. Since we could afford more space here in Seattle, we really wanted to find something that would let us easily host, whether dinner or overnights. We found a rather decent rental house and applied for it immediately.
While we waited, we mulled over the two options we had: this one, and a much smaller house near the beach on the Sound. They were essentially the same rent but represented two disparate ways of doing life. One had a yard, one didn’t. One had three bedrooms, one had one. One had easy interstate access, one had private beach access. One was spacious, one was cozy (in a good way). One would require us to furnish it, the other would require us to pare down. We were truly torn, and we didn’t hear clearly from God one way or the other.
But then we recalled what we believe is part of God’s purpose for us. To give a home to people. So for ease of access and for comfort of space for all who came, we chose the big house. We also knew family would be visiting and would need room, and when we start a family of our own it’ll be nice to have some flexibility.
Often I pine for that simpler option in the trees, at the end of the road, with a beach nearby. It seemed so easy to make it a refuge, like it was built with that in mind. But instead I received the challenge of turning a big, empty house into a place of rest with character and joy.
We love our house. It’s a handful. It’s the first time we’ve had this much space, with a garden and a yard to manage. It does serve as a retreat for us from the city and the work day, but often I notice myself wanting to just keep it for us. Home is so intimate, and sometimes when other people are there, it feels less restful, especially if you don’t know one another well. Lots of times I just want to crash and hoard this thing and keep the space quiet and not play the host anymore. Because I’m tired, okay?
And then God reminds me that it’s not mine.
What privilege it is to temporarily use any housing, much less this house on this lot. Who am I to withhold its quiet, its natural light, its embrace from those who might benefit? There are periods of resting for me, but they’re often not when I prefer them to be. God has a way of employing us to meet each other’s needs, and if He uses us to provide for someone else, He will surely provide for us in His time.
I’m reading Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer for the Nth time, and I just finished the chapter on Ministry. One of the sub-sections is about the “ministry of helpfulness,” which is basically just actively offering assistance where needed, even in small/humble/mundane things. Ready for a little conviction? Or maybe it’s just me.
“We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God. God will be constantly crossing our paths and canceling our plans by sending us people with claims and petitions.” “But it is part of the discipline of humility that we must not spare our hand where it can perform a service and that we do not assume that our schedule is our own to manage, but allow it to be arranged by God.”¹
This is just what we do …. what we ought to do. In the next section, the “ministry of bearing” means to bear another’s burdens, to “suffer and endure the brother.” When you hesitate at genuinely accepting, welcoming another, along with all their quirks, weaknesses, conflicts, faults, sins, annoyances… just remember how insufferable you are. 😉 Think how others have loved you in spite of yourself, and then think how Jesus does that perfectly, although He Himself has no sin. We can only do this because Christ bore us all first.²
“None must seek his own rights.”³ Rather, says Bonhoeffer, it is a privilege to bear with each other, for here we see God’s grace all the clearer, and thereby we “preserve fellowship with him [the brother] through forgiveness.”³
And in the best case scenario, we’re in a community where others bear us just as we bear them, so that we live out the love God gives us in the mundane, the messy, the plain annoying stuff people (we) do, the odd way they (we) are.
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These two ministries collide for me in the ministry of hospitality. For where there is a need we see for a home, we have one, and it is up to God. And despite my tiredness and irritability, God gives us guests to love, and we get to bear with them.
Reader, there is such joy in this. I don’t know why, but God seems to have designed me so that, despite my occasional/frequent weariness, I can’t help it – I want people here. If a week has gone by and we haven’t hosted someone in some way, we have started to consider that somewhat unacceptable and we try to plan it.
Ever since we moved here, we have gone probably no more than a few weeks without overnight guests who stay for several days at least. We have one now, a friend from San Francisco! We are so glad to have him with us as he looks for housing – what an opportunity to know him better and deepen our friendship.
Y’all, sometimes don’t you just want the things all to yourself, just for a little while? Me too. It takes God’s strength to continue giving away. But home is never just for us, and with God being so intent on using it, we can be sure He will provide the strength and the joy.
It is a true honour to help and to bear.
1 … Bonhoeffer, p. 99
2 … Isaiah 53:4-5
3 … Bonhoeffer, p. 102
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Life Together. HarperOne. 1954.
