Hospitality(ish): Guest House Projects

Here's a little look behind the scenes of guest house ministry:

About a week ago, leadership sent out an email asking that each department submit a budget request for any special projects that need to be done this coming semester.

Casie, Kristi, and I huddled up this morning for a brainstorming session.

After discussion, we compiled a list of projects/updates we'd like to tackle this semester.  (To give you an idea, we talked about updating lamps, getting decor for some bare walls, and replacing comforters that are wearing out - among other things.)

Then began the fun part: researching options.  I checked Target, Kohl's, and Ikea to get an idea on prices.  I detailed what we'd like to get, along with the prices; I'll run the request by Casie and Kristi before submitting it to the leadership team.

If/when the request is approved, the even funner part begins: actually choosing and buying the items.  This will involve checking for sales and coupons, picking colors we like, and saying good-bye to the old stuff.

I can't wait to show you what we find!

July Reads

Disciplines of a Godly Woman | Hughes: Highly recommend!  Solidly Scriptural, practical, and free from the "fluffiness" that seems to characterize many for-women titles these days.  This is the book I'll be using for my small group this year.  It covers a wide variety of topics related to Christian living - prayer, worship, serving, giving, singleness, marriage, church life, contentment, and more.

De Vez en Cuando: From Time to Time | Johnson: Reflections from a missionary who served in Mexico and South America.  I have to confess: the format/writing style felt a little disorganized and unpolished.  However, I can't help but respect the raw honesty with which he told his stories - years of his own learning and faltering and serving the Lord in difficult, un-glamorous circumstances.  It's a side of missions that we rarely get to hear about.  (Side note: if you get queasy easily, this might not be the best book for you...)

The Urban Homestead | Coyne & Knutzen: A for-fun read I grabbed from the library.  Farming/homesteading/self-sufficiency has always been a topic of interest for me, although I didn't read the book with any serious intentions of turning my little apartment into a homestead of sorts.  Still, there were a lot of fascinating, creative, and practical ideas.  I feel compelled to mention one often-repeated theme that bothered me: "This might be against the rules [city code, landlords' expectations, etc.], but do it quietly and you can probably get away with it."  I can understand where they're coming from to some degree, but I still believe in respecting the law instead of looking for ways to get around it.

Slow Church | Smith & Pattison: A thought-provoking look at Twenty First Century church in the U.S.  The authors examine ways popular culture has negatively influenced the church and offer a different approach emphasizing patience, intentionality, community, and hospitality.  Did I agree with everything?  No, but it was good to have my thinking challenged and stretched, and I believe they made a lot of important points.

Savor | Niequist: A daily devotional.  I didn't read it that way - it was a library book, so I couldn't very well go at the pace of a page per day! - and probably wouldn't have anyways.  It felt more like a collection of reflections than a true devotional, but I still enjoyed it. 

On Cut Flowers

Cut flowers are my one weakness.

They aren't necessities, I freely admit - but that's part of their charm.

They feel like a celebration.

Of beauty.

Of life and growth.

Of God's creativity.

Their sunny faces, their infinite variety of colors and shapes, the detail in their petals...

It all makes me so very happy.

The green mason jar bursting with beet-red zinnias is a toast to this life God has given me, with its good and its hard moments, with its confidence and its questions, with the grace for mountain tops and mundane.

Hospitality(ish): Around the Table

I love opening my home and connecting with students, my coworkers, and other friends.

Over the last few years I've been learning a couple things, like:

1. It doesn't have to be perfect.  A house doesn't have to be immaculate in order to make people feel welcome.  The point of hospitality (from a Biblical perspective) has never been about impressing people with how clean my space is, how amazing my decor is, or how fancy my meals are.  It's about reflecting God's character - the God who reaches out to us and invites us into His family, His kingdom, and His home.

2. Some good ideas don't necessarily work for me personally.  I'm not the best movie night girl because I don't have a TV, only my laptop.  I've tried hosting some game afternoons/evenings, but they do stretch me.  Craft times are hit-or-miss - not everybody likes crafty stuff, and my dining room doesn't give a ton of space to spread out.  But there's something I've found that works really well for me: food-related invitations.  (Or coffee/tea times.)  This realization has felt really freeing, enjoying others' hospitality in the various ways it comes, and simply offering a welcome in the ways God has made me to.

I think there's something about eating together that can put people at ease.  We all need to eat, and good food makes us happy (usually).  Plus, there's less pressure for conversation.  Moments of silence during bites don't feel awkward the way they could in other settings.

One of my favorite ways this around-the-table thing has happened is Soup's On.

I stole the idea from my time in Missouri.  A few ladies bring soup, I buy the bread, and different ones take turns hosting.

I look forward to these Fridays each month: we trickle in, a few at time, bringing our own bowls and spoons.  We bow our heads and someone prays before we start sampling the fragrant soups.  Cheeseburger, curried pumpkin, creamy spinach and sausage, taco, split pea, clam chowder...

Someone suggested salads over the summer instead of soup, which was, of course, a brilliant idea.

I love how the worn farmhouse table looks when it's lunch time: three or four bowls of bright, fresh salads, a stack of paper plates and napkins (to keep clean-up simple), the water pitcher and my green mason jar glasses.

Even more though, I love our times together.  I store little snapshots in my memory: Lisa shifting in the chair that always creaks, Kristi with her little daughter on her lap, Kelley listening to our funny homeschool stories, Conni's animated laugh, me perched on the windowsill because I've run out of chairs.  (I'm trying to decide if this is a problem that needs to be fixed.  It's a bummer running out of chairs, but then, having more friends than I do chairs is a nice dilemma to have.)

We are coworkers, yes, but we're also friends, and being together - whether around a table or at some other activity - is how we're getting to know each better, inviting the others into our lives.

That's the goal, after all, and sometimes that old kitchen table is a great starting point.

What are some of your favorite ways to practice hospitality?  Share them so we can all learn more!

The Summer Slow

Summer is my favorite season here, and this summer has been my favorite so far.

It's all sorts of wonderful ~

cicadas singing

grilled brats

grilled chicken (really, anything on the grill)

Saturday farmers market

breezes that rustle the leaves ever so gently

tangerine popsicles

fresh salads in endless variety

fireflies at dusk

less time at a desk

dinner outside

grapevines cascading over the backyard fences

stacks of books to read

the kiddos splashing in the little pool

regular exercise

iced coffee

wildflowers blooming in ditches

the way humidity smells in the air

Perhaps most wonderful of all, though, is how life seems so much slower.

More time to think.

More time to rest.

More time to listen.

More time to simply be.

I didn't realize just how much I needed that, but the Lord did.

The start of the semester is only a few weeks away.  I keep telling myself not to think about that more than necessary right now and just soak up this delightful summer while I can.

They Were Astonished

We covered Acts 12 in Sunday School this past week.  It's one of my favorite stories.

So Peter was kept in prison, but the church was earnestly praying to God for him.

So far, so good.

An angel showed up, freeing him from the sleeping guards he was chained to.

After the angel had led him out of the prison...

...he went to the house of Mary the mother of John, also called Mark, where many people had gathered and were praying.

You just know they must have been praying for Peter (among other things).

Peter was at the door, knocking persistently because no one in this prayer meeting believed Rhoda, who insisted it was him.

...and when they opened the door and saw him, they were astonished.

Why were they so surprised when God answered a specific request they were literally in the middle of praying for??

- - -

I've had what felt like a decently big project to work on and it's been rattling around in my head all summer.   Last week was going to be lighter in the guest house and with normal office work, so this project was my top priority.

But here's the thing: I've learned that I can't just turn creative output or brainstorming on like a faucet whenever I please.  It's either there or it isn't.  I'll have the time but not the mental creativity for something, or else I'll have ideas but no time to get them down on paper and flesh them out - which is endlessly frustrating.  I was afraid it would be the same thing last week.

Monday morning came, bright and full of possibility.  I prayed that God would give me clarity, creativity, and the ability to organize my thoughts well, and asked my dear friend Sherry to pray with me for those things.

I jotted ideas down.  A plan began to take shape.  Questions were answered.  Order came from what had previously been only a jumbled-up assortment of thoughts.

On Tuesday, I found myself quite surprised over how well it was going.  It never happens like this, I thought.  This is unbelievable!

In the middle of my happily astonished, head-shaking moment, I was suddenly struck...why was I so surprised that God had answered my very specific prayer?  Did I not believe He could?  Did I not believe He would?

Two things ~

My faith is small far too often.

God is faithful in spite of me.

So many hallelujahs.

Reminiscing

July feels like a significant month on the calendar, at least for me personally.  It's like a vista point, a place to look over the past and see what God has done.

2013 -

The month before I left for Senegal was filled with preparatory shopping, time with cousins, good-byes, sweet times with friends, and more than a little frenzy over the big life-change looming ahead.

I flew out to see Esther for what I thought would be the last time in four years.  (As it turned out, I'd be there again only two years later.  And just six months after that, I'd be moving there myself.  Life is crazy, I tell ya.)

Memories and first impressions of the place I'd one day call home -

Arriving during an enthusiastic thunderstorm

Hundreds of fireflies on the way home from the airport

Crazy high humidity

The infamous bat encounter

A trip to a local nursery

Meeting a now-coworker who, upon discovering I'd attended neither of our Bible schools, joked that I'd been "grafted in"

Esther painting a dorm at the school, me sitting on the couch in said dorm because I hadn't brought paint-appropriate clothing on the trip (I still feel lazy at the memory)

Watching Larkrise to Candleford together - and her giving me her set to bring to Senegal

The wonders of ranch seasoning on popcorn

2015 -

I arrived in the U.S. on the 1st, landing in bustling, borderline-abrasive JFK.

I celebrated the 4th with my family and soaked up time with my darling nephew, Kai, who was born the previous year.

On the 14th - a mere two weeks after getting back - I set out on a multi-state trip, driving through California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas with my friend Abigail and another girl.  We camped (my first time ever!), saw the Grand Canyon, visited a ghost town, and had several other exceptionally fun experiences.  I then flew on to Colorado, Michigan, and Maryland to visit friends and family.

Every place I went on that trip, there were new people to meet, and they all kept asking the same question: "So, what are you going to do now that you're back from Africa?"  I didn't have an answer, and the uncertainty of my future overwhelmed and terrified me.

During my time with Esther, I learned two new songs (Grace So Glorious and My Story), songs that became a fitting refrain for that season of my life.  I can't hear them without remembering that time and all God's tenderness and grace toward me in it.

2018 - 

Esther and I are next-door neighbors (!!!).  I still love the fireflies as much as I did on that first visit.  We haven't had many storms yet this year, but I'm hopeful we'll get a few.  Summer is decidedly my most favorite season here...for so many reasons.

There's a settledness to life right now.  A contentedness, a confidence in God.  The honeymoon newness of ministry here has worn off and His work in my life seems to be quiet and deep - as if what He's teaching me is still somewhere below the surface, something I know is happening but can't quite articulate, at least not yet.  He is working, though, that I know.

Is there something new on the horizon, changes He's been preparing me for?  Is this season just about faithfulness in what I've already been given?

I don't know.  But He does, and that's enough for me.

Algebra and the Girl Who Didn't Know Grace

I love words.  Once I learned how to talk (so my mom says), I never stopped.  I devoured words in books, and poured out my own in poems, short stories, and pen pal letters.

But numbers?  They're not my thing so much.  In fact, one of my earliest school-related memories was sitting at my desk, crying over my [very basic] math workbook.  I couldn't have been more than seven.

Math has been the bane of my existence for as long as I can remember.  Saxon textbooks still make me shudder.

Enter Algebra 2.

It was my senior year.  I had a full load.  As much as I'd always loathed math, I was, overall, still a pretty good student.  With all the optimism and bright determination of a first week back to school, I ran headlong into lesson 1.  It was all review.  It felt...almost easy.

Maybe I'm finally getting this after all, I thought.

I checked my test in the answer key (hello, homeschooling).  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven wrong...on a fifteen-question test.

A big, fat F.

I don't remember ever getting an F before - in anything.  Still stunned, I went to tell my mom.

"Mom, I got an 'F' on my test."
"No, you didn't," she laughed, thinking I was joking.
"No, Mom, really, I got an 'F'."
"Nooo, Rach.  You didn't get an 'F'."
"But I really did."
"You did?!"

This exchange subtly reinforced my faulty, performance-riddled worldview.  Rachel doesn't fail.  Rachel can't disappoint her parents, her friends, or the world.  People depend on her.  She must live up to their expectations, always.

So...I stupidly began to cheat.

Not because I was lazy, but because this time my best wasn't good enough, and "not good enough" wasn't an option to me.  Failure wasn't an option.

I wish this folly had been contained to one school subject in one year of high school.  But it wasn't.  It was how I lived.

My life was a test and God was the test grader.  A's were good.  F's were bad.  If I got an A, He was happy and smiled at me.  Anything less than that, and He'd mark everything up with some cosmic red pen.

If I couldn't actually be perfect and have it all together - well, I could at least conjure up an image of it.  And I'd slave endlessly for even an illusion of perfection.

A deep exhaustion from this graceless way of living began to seep into my soul.

The mask slipped.  The illusion chipped around the edges.  The realization began to dawn on me that, just maybe, somewhere, I'd missed the point.

My entire life, I'd wanted to be close to God.  I'd thought this was how it worked.

I could no longer escape the truth staring me in the face: I would never be good enough, strong enough, have-it-all-together enough.  And then more truth came - truth that had been right there all along.

I didn't choose you because you were good.  I chose you because I am good.
I am pleased with you, not because of what you've done, but because of what My Son has done.
Saving is My job, and so is sanctifying.
I finished the work and there is nothing your own efforts can add to it.
I love you because you are My child, not because you are trying hard to make Me happy.
Nothing depends on you.  I am the foundation for your hope, your salvation, your new life.

It took me a long time to understand that, and even longer before I was ready to accept it.

But in sweet, relentless, painful persistence, He chipped away at that old wall, and finally...

Grace flooded into a tired, thirsty life.

Choosing the Future You

Who do you want to be in five years, ten years, fifty years?

I don't necessarily mean your long-term goals - Where do you want to end up? or What job do you hope to have?

But, what kind of person do you want be?



Recently, several things have given me reason to stop and deeply ponder this question.

And I know who I want to be.

A woman who...

is wise

is kind and compassionate

is joyful
loves selflessly
practices thankfulness

walks in friendship with God

encourages others
gives generously and sacrificially
is marked by faithfulness
is grounded in the truth of God's Word
lives out her faith in practical ways
is always growing in grace.

That's the kind of woman I want to be five years, ten years, fifty years down the road.

But 2028 is not the time to choose what kind of woman I want to be in 2028.  Now is the time to choose who I'll be then.

My choices, your choices - today - are the things that shape and form our characters in the future.  We can't believe that one day we'll wake up, magically mature and Godly and exemplary.  How we choose to act, how we choose to think, the way we respond to everyday life - these are the bricks that build the people we become in the future.

I can't hope to be a wise woman someday if I don't take steps toward wisdom now.  When correction comes, how do I respond to it?  When I have the opportunity to learn, do I take it?  Do I listen to and glean from others (whether in person or through some other media like books), or do I fill my mind with shallow thoughts?  Do I ask God for the ability to sift through various situations I encounter, or do I rely on my own ideas and understanding?

So who do you want to be?

Today is the time to choose the future you, to respond to God's work in your life.  Character never happens overnight.

The Sanctifying Quilt

It's a bright, cheery quilt, showcasing all sorts of lovely fabrics from Africa.

Some I bought with Angèle the last time I visited.  Some pieces are from the very first two skirts I had made when I moved to Senegal.  Some are fabulous wax prints I found on Etsy.

And this ever-so-happy-looking quilt has also been a sanctifying quilt, something God has been using to teach me.

I am a perfectionist.

I am also human.

Which means that I'm forever wanting, striving, reaching for perfection…and forever falling short.

Even in the most mundane aspects of my life, I play this foolhardy chase, me after ever-elusive perfection.

Perfectly matching quilt seams don't make me an amazing person.

They don't make God happier with me.

And conversely, when those blessed seams are puckered or just off, He is not disappointed in me.

Nothing comes to a screeching halt either in heaven or on earth.

I sometimes act like it might.

Why, having tasted grace, do I insist on going back to the chains of perfectionism and self-effort?

I know all about grace in my head.  I love talking about it, writing about it, singing about it.

But something as simple as a sewing project shows me all over again how much I still need it.  Grace isn't a need from my Pharisee past.  It's something I'll need for as long as I live, more desperately than I need oxygen.

Sanctification, this walk with Jesus, is a process. It so rarely comes in the adventures, the flashy moments, the next exciting experience, but in the flat, mundane path of the everyday.

Learning takes time.

Growing takes time.

Grace means He walks with me, shows me myself, shows me Himself.

Right here in the midst of everyday life - with its puckered seams and stacks of fabric on the ironing board and pins strewn across the dining room table - Grace Himself walks with me.

Could I wish for anything more?

Singleness: A Choice or A Gift?

It all seemed so straightforward.  I was used to making decisions based on logic and not emotion, on a strong sense of duty and responsibility.

I believed God had called me to be a missionary.  I wanted to serve Him in a remote location and be a part of translating His Word.  This would be a big responsibility - one that would take much time over many years.  Being single would mean fewer demands on my time.  More freedom to devote to the task.  I would be able to throw myself into it in a way that a married person could not.

It didn't even seem like a sacrifice.  Just an undeniably logical choice.

So I made it and moved through my teen years and into my twenties with barely a second thought on the subject.

But then grace came on the scene, and it was bound to affect every area of my thinking sooner or later.

Grace said nothing I did or didn't do would earn me favor with God - that His favor was mine because of Christ alone.  Being single secured me no special-something-extra over my married counterparts.

But I still saw singleness as my choice, if not for favor, then for expediency's sake.

It was like I was telling God that I had it all figured out and that I'd be able to do more for Him this way.

He had a most disconcerting way of showing me that my human logic was both flawed and unreliable.  Who was I to tell God what was the best or most efficient way His work could be accomplished?

Thus began the re-framing of my perspective.  I went to Scripture - not just 1 Corinthians 7, but all of it - for help.  It started to dawn on me: both singleness and marriage were good.  Both could bring Him glory.  Both provided opportunities and challenges.  I'd been wrong all this time to think a comparison ("good" and "better") was necessary.

Suppose I saw this less as a choice I was making for God and more His gift to me?  I am single, not because I made some noble decision about the direction of my life, but because He loves me and chose to give me this gift.

How that changes the conversation!

If singleness is the good gift my Heavenly Father has, in His love, chosen to give me today, then I am free.  Free to rejoice in it and to rejoice with others in their own differing gifts, to trust that no matter what gift He gives me in two years, five years, or ten years, it will be abundantly good.

This is grace.  All I have is given to me.  There's no room for smug self-satisfaction; no room for comparison; no room for fear over the future.  Grace says, Take the gifts, all these beautiful gifts He's given, and let them spill over in joy and thankfulness.  Receive the gifts of today and trust Him with tomorrow.

It's so much simpler and sweeter this way, to just let Him be God.