Being an invitation

A went to a training recently where the suggestion was made that the way we live, who we are is an invitation and our task is to decide what we are inviting others to.

Today after MOPS we were gathering to go and a little girl was crying because she didn’t want to say goodbye to Lydia who is a bit of a rock star with the toddler set. I asked the girl’s mother if they could come over for lunch. They could.

They spent five hours with us in our very messy house, for which I did not apologize (OK only a teensy bit) and we had a great time. The little girl played with my kids, her mom and I talked all afternoon and we all loved on their little baby.

I want to be gracious and inviting, but too often I have let the excuses, “The house is a mess”, “I am exhausted” “What will we eat?” get in the way of that. Today the three excuses were there but I did not give them undue power. They could not negate my gracious invitation which was offered without thought, almost reflexively.

I know this, I know this, I know this, but have so often refused the truth.

In my spiritual life I am willing to be vulnerable and transparent. I let others see my dirty laundry. But I hold others back in real life, wanting my physical home to be in perfect order before I let them in. I mean, I’m not going to let you see my actual dirty laundry. But that’s just stupid. I don’t live in squalor, just less than perfect tidiness.

Today I invited my friend over and fed her family lunch, poured her strong coffee and spoke fluent English with her while her little girl played happily and her baby snoozed the day away.

When they left I busted a move and picked up the living room and emptied then reloaded the dishwasher and made a couple chicken pizzas. By the time Paul came home the house, though still not perfect, was in a semblance of order.

I am going to sign off now so that I can get the kitchen sparklingly clean as my gift to tomorrow morning’s me. Won’t I be so grateful.

“Sweet Dreams” as C. Riley likes to say.