Something I’ve only been able to learn from him.
It’s Day 5 and I’m sure you’re catching on… that everything I’m good at is only because of the example my dad set for me.
Including a welcoming spirit that exudes from his love for others.
When he throws a party, everyone is invited.
And he’s not the kind of host who makes you feel out-of-place, scared to touch anything, or gives you a short wave while mingling with everyone else.
He’s totally present.
Like your his favorite guest in attendance.
“Mi casa es tu casa” is among his choice phrases.
Because he means it… what’s his is yours if you want it.
It’s amazing that he has anything left at all. Yet somehow he always has enough… to keep offering to anyone who needs it. Or wants it.
Because stuff isn’t what matters.
I’ve had to learn not to apologize for my messy house. We live here and it looks like it. And usually no one notices until I point it out.
I’ve learned to tell people right away, “Treat my home like it’s yours,” because in my excitement, I often forget to ask if they’d like something to drink or show them to the bathroom.
My dishes don’t all match. I don’t own a tea-pot or corresponding tea cups. I don’t have a home-decor talent. There’s usually only water to drink.
But I can make a mean taco soup. And a whole host of other really scrumptious food. And why waste all that yummy food on just us? Why not bless someone else with a free meal and some good company just because I feel inadequate in every other standard of good hospitality?
I can give hugs. Smiles. A good meal. Laughter.
This I learned from my dad.
To invite. To give. To welcome.
To empty myself, my house, my heart… for the sake of others.
That they may come and know they are accepted, welcome, and loved.
That they will never hear said, “it’s time for you to go,” or “please don’t touch that,” or “no children allowed.”
All are welcome here.
But the crowds learned about it and followed him. He welcomed them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed healing.