Recently, my mom told me that when she was growing up in Marble Rock, IA, her family would occasionally decide to go on a bike ride around town. But the bike ride was less about riding bikes and more about stopping to talk with whoever was out and about. Their visits were always welcome because there was always an open invitation. One that never had to be formally delivered. It was unspoken, but it was there.

Not long after we moved in, my wife made bread for our neighbors. It was the middle of winter, and we just planned to drop it off and be on our way. Instead, Mark & Deb Rhoades were quick—even insistent—to invite us into their warm home. We soon found ourselves chatting by a cozy fire. That was special. 

But it got even better. Our friends Jeremy & Susan Beebout were on their way to visit us. When they arrived at our house, they discovered that we weren’t home. We saw them looking for us, but before we could say, “Adieu,” to Mark & Deb, our hospitable neighbors invited in our friends, strangers to them, and we all found ourselves comfortably seated and conversing. 

Before our move into town, we were neighbors with Jeremy & Susan. I cannot number the amount of times we dropped by to visit them. No agenda. No hurry. I look back on these visits with great fondness. I can’t think of one where we were turned away, even when they were running kids around to various activities. In fact, they only invited us further in. If we stopped by while a meal was being prepared or served, we were invited to join. Even if it was leftovers on Sunday night!

I’m sharing these stories because they’re beautiful examples of hospitality to the rest of us. Let’s make more of them!

Yet, despite what I’ve stated above, I would say that we, Americans in general, have greatly declined in our understanding and demonstration of hospitality.

There are Saudi Arabians hanging out in tents in the desert (this is what they do for fun) who are more hospitable to strangers than we are to acquaintances. Granted, theirs is a hospitality culture. Still, they’re in tents in the desert. What excuse do we have?

As I considered this, I started to wonder: Does the problem lie in the inhospitableness of the visited? Or does it lie in the hurry of the visitor?

The answer is surely some combination of both as well as situational. But as I searched my own heart, I found that the issue doesn’t lie with my neighbors as much as it does with me. I simply think too highly of myself. I only have so much time, and there are better uses of it, I think.

But that’s scarcity thinking and proud thinking. That’s not the economy of God where talents are multiplied and others are thought of more highly than ourselves. I need to realize and remember that God can do more with my little than I can ever do with my much. 

The truth is, we need to slow down and linger with the people God has providentially placed right in front of us. Hospitality given and received is only as good as the time we make for it. That’s an investment. Do we have faith that God will make a return on it?

Whether the visited or the visitor, many of us could go a long way in recovering a hospitable spirit if we cast aside our hustle and bustle mindset. What would it look like to invite and welcome unhurried time together? Something like the stories above, I’m sure. Something like eternity. Greater and deeper fellowship awaits. 

When God gave us seed,
It wasn’t to determine which would grow;
It was to take by the handfuls and sow.

To the many friends who have taught us hospitality through theirs.

Thanks to Forrest Dawkins for sharing his knowledge of Saudi Arabians and hospitality with me. There's much more that could be said that I didn't fit into this blog post. He has stories to share! If I misconstrued anything, that is entirely on me.