I thought that I knew hospitality before I came on the race.
Let me preface this by saying – my mom is the perfect hostess. Hospitality is her thing. When I was growing up, she was the best example around. She organizes surprise parties, church groups, holiday gatherings. Oh, twenty people are coming over for dinner? No problem! She'll bake a triple batch of homemade cookies, whip up a delicious dinner, clean the entire house and have it all prepped and ready to go with time to spare. She'll even have time to curl her hair before guests begin to arrive. It's more than an acquired skill – it's a gift.
My mom thrives in these situations. She flits around the house while chatting with friends, offering hors d'ourves and replenishing drinks. She doesn't stop moving until the end of the night when her guests are gone. Or, if it is the holiday season and people are staying at our house it starts all over again the next morning with breakfast. It's nothing less than impressive. She always knows what to say; she has an abundance of patience and grace. Somehow, she has this sixth sense that just knows when someone needs something or the quiche is within seconds of burning to a crisp in the oven.
Romans 12:13 says “practice hospitality.” Believe me, my mom has taken that and run with it. I never thought that I would find an equal to her.
Then I visited Nepal.
It is unfortunate, but… I'm sorry Mom. I think I found someone who will give you a run for your money.
Team Beauty for Ashes visited Nepal in November. From the moment that we got to our contact’s in Sarlahi until the moment we left I was thankful and astounded. Our contacts treated us with the utmost respect and love and service. It was beyond anything I could have hoped for and it blew my expectations out of the water.
The family that we lived with and the people that we interacted with every day took hospitality to a whole new level. We weren’t allowed to help cook; we weren’t allowed to clear the table or do dishes. They would not let us help with anything whatsoever despite our asking. We were guests and therefore we were served.
[Pastor Amar, me & Brother Saimon]
To be a guest in someone’s house is a hard thing for me. Our culture is independent and though I have seen an incredible example of hospitality and service, which is, in my opinion, better than that of the average American, it isn’t usually prolonged for several weeks. For one, guests don’t often stay for such long periods of time in America. For two, (and maybe this doesn’t apply to you) I find myself insisting that I can do whatever someone else offers and often refuse to let them serve me. It makes me uncomfortable for others to go above and beyond what I personally deem necessary. It’s a pride thing, to be sure. It’s hard to have a humble spirit that allows others to serve you.
Add an apologetic spirit to the overall sense of service and I become a bit overwhelmed. Even when things were beyond our expectations and we were better served than we would have ever guessed, they apologized. They wanted to know how they could better serve us. They wanted to know what wasn’t “up to par” in our opinion. I would shake my head and say that they didn’t need to apologize and that everything was perfect. The food was delicious, my bed was comfortable, the people were incredibly nice. For the entire time we were with them I felt as though I was a long lost sister, welcomed home.
[Shanta & me]
My newly adopted Nepalese brothers, Arjun and Binod, were some of the most dedicated & hardworking teenagers I have ever encountered. They would spend all day with us, cook us dinner and then return home in the evenings to do their homework until 1:00 am. They gave up their time and energy to make sure that we were taken care of.
[Arjun, me, & Binod]
Binod once told me that in America, we have everything. We have so much; it’s true. He then said that because people in Nepal have so little the Lord has blessed them with having huge hearts. He told me that their capacity to love and serve is greater than ours. I don’t doubt it for a second. Their example is one that I certainly shall never forget and that I will attempt to imitate for the rest of my life.
Mom, I adore you, but for now, I’ll raise a glass to my Nepalese family.
