We are almost exactly seven months in to this voyage. This Wednesday will mark the occasion. We have been away from home for 7 long, yet surprisingly fleeting, months.
This month in South Africa has been met with all the comforts of home, percolating coffee, oven-baked cakes (yes, I made a pretty tasty tomato soup cake, in honor of Scott’s birthday last month), malls with wireless, a double bed with full size pillows, real showers (whenever we want them), and surrogate parents.
Kent and Shay are the house parents of the mission house here at 85 Ehmke in Nelspruit. They’ve cooked us some wonderful meals, and driven us around as if we were a bunch of teenagers. They’ve even gone out of their way to find me an ice cream cake on my birthday and a cheesecake for Tana’s. They are masters of hospitality, making sure that we are all comfortable, and ensuring a sense that we are all family.
It’s been really amazing to hear their story. How they met, when they got married, when they met Jesus and were filled with the Holy Spirit, and the road God has them on now. How God brought them from a place of 9-5 jobs, and placed them out on the mission field.
Since becoming a wife, some of my own dreams of being hospitable have been fostered by being the recipient of this gifting. I don’t know that before Scott and I were married that hospitality was even a gift, muchless one that is God-given. When I moved into our little one bedroom basement apartment after we were married, I set to work. I wanted that little place to have a homey feel. I wanted people to feel welcomed when they entered that home.
Scott didn’t quite understand why I got all tensed when we were preparing for company. Why did I need to vacuum, dust, arrange all the pictures (10 times), get all the dishes washed, and have an appetizer waiting upon their arrival. He thought that it was all too much work, and no one would care anyway if the place was a mess. Even more, he didn’t get why I went to the hardware store and bought cans of paint to energize the looks of our kitchen and bathroom. (I would have painted the bedroom too if we hadn’t just signed up for the World Race). I placed candles strategically, and color coordinated them, to fit the schemes of each room. Scott was just bummed because I didn’t want to display his beer bottle collection.
As small as it was, that place had a charm that was inviting. Although I felt it wasn’t an entertaining home, it was still a place that brought many guests to late nights of laughter and prayer. However, I know it’s not about the apartment. It’s about the people who lived there. Scott and I made that place a dwelling of comfort. It had a revolving door, so much so that I don’t remember locking it (you didn’t hear that Mark and Kathy!)
It is a reminder that no matter where God takes us in life, He has already given the gifting of hospitality. So, we could live in a mud hut (please God, I’d prefer concrete if at all possible!) or a mansion and it doesn’t matter. It’s not about the building, it’s about those who live there. And if God chooses a somewhat nomadic life for us, well, that promise will still ring true for the tent we’ll travel with.
As I continue to dream of what this gifting will look like in life, it’s encouraging to know that it’s already happening. That it’s about who He’s making me, not the physical place He’s got in store for us.
