Friends, or "Friends"

When I was in the second grade, I learned an important lesson: how to win friends.

I had moved from Hong Kong to the United States just one year before.

Then after attending first grade in one school, my family moved to another part of town and I had to begin all over again at a different school.

So I found myself trying to break into established social circles while speaking a new language. I spent many lonely lunches by myself, chasing butterflies on the grass and biding my time until class started again. I honestly believed that if I could get a butterfly to sit on my hand, it would prove that I'm special in some way, and maybe my classmates would notice me too.

The butterflies never chose me. But it didn't matter. One day, I brought a pack of ramen noodles to school. But I didn't eat it in a bowl with warm water. Instead, I crushed up the noodles in the packaging, then opened the bag, took out the spice package, and shook the spices onto the bits of uncooked noodles. The result was a tasty, salty, crunchy treat, and soon I was a favorite among some of my classmates.

It didn't take me long to realize that as long as I brought ramen noodles to school, people paid attention to me at lunchtime. I knew that they weren't really my friends, but I didn't care. For five to ten minutes at lunch every day, I was not alone.

Funny how, many years later, memories like this suddenly come back to you. Second grade was nearly forty years ago. And this afternoon, as I was washing dishes, I realized that I still often think that my friends just want something from me. I don't expect people to truly want to be with me. Deep down, I still think that people like me only for what I can give them or do for them. I had learned this lesson as a little girl, but I had learned it too well.

Of course, I have friends who love me; they tell me so often. I just don't allow myself to believe it. And they aren't just Facebook "friends"–they bring me meals, check up on me, take my kids to the park so I can rest, and invite us over. But if I'm completely honest with myself, I still don't really believe that they love me just for being me. It shows in how I hold back sometimes–how I can't be open in conversations, or how I hesitate to ask for help. Forty years later, I have a lesson to unlearn. I myself need to work on being more than a "friend". 

In this present culture of social media, commuting, texting, and fast-paced living, true friendship–having a deeper connection with a person and loving him/her for who he/she is, not what he/she can do for us–is slowly fading away. If you want to fight this trend in your life, I recommend this book: Made for People: Why We Drift into Loneliness and How to Fight for a Life of Friendship, by Justin Whitmel Earley.

Adopt a Grandparent!

At our church's 4th of July picnic, I noticed an older woman dressed festively in a red and white striped shirt. Though she needed a walker to move about, she was right in the middle of the activities–watching the water balloon toss, trying the different desserts, chatting with people of all ages. She came right up to me and started talking to me about my young children. We became fast friends.

By the end of the picnic, I knew many things about Kathy. One of her two brothers died when he was fairly young. Her sister Rita (a connection!) passed away last year. Her husband died a few years before that. Of her four children, only one is still living. Her family is now only her other brother, her nephew, her son, and herself. She lives with her brother, but her son does not live in the area. She has no grandchildren.

I, on the other hand, have grandchildren to spare. Immediately, in my mind, I adopted Kathy. She and her brother came for dinner recently and they had a fabulous time. They loved the children, the food, the conversation and the music, and my husband and I enjoyed their delightful company. I'm already planning to invite them to Thanksgiving dinner, and to make it known to them that they always have a place at my house on the holidays.

I have a deep love for inter-generational interactions. I grew up in the United States, oceans apart from my grandparents in Hong Kong. Now I see the role of grandparents in a child's life. Grandparents are a direct link to our past, and it is in that relationship where children first learn how to interact with people who are older, and hopefully wiser, and yet are not their parents. It is where children learn to care for someone who may need to move a little slower or need special care. And by spending time with their grandparents, children grow comfortable with being with people who are elderly. And children play a very important part in an elderly person's life too. They bring joy, energy, and a spark to everything. Their wide-eyed wonder makes anyone, no matter how old, feel young again.

You may not be living near your parents. You may sadly have parents who had already passed away. Or maybe your relationship with your parents is tenuous and unstable. In any case, I encourage you to reach out to the older members of your community and adopt a grandparent or two. They will be blessed, and so will you.

10 Unique Ways to Show Hospitality

Okay, maybe my title is a little misleading… there is really nothing amazingly creative or blow-your-mind-earth-shaking about this list. BUT… in light of what I wrote in my recent posts, this list may help you think outside-of-the-box when it comes to hospitality. Note that none of these ten ways involve cooking a fancy dinner or throwing a Pinterest-worthy party. This list is about true hospitality, which is simply loving your neighbor as yourself. 

1}  Offer to babysit for a couple who does not have family living nearby. (after getting to know them first, of course)

2}  Visit someone who is housebound, or visit seniors in nursing homes and assisted living facilities. (especially if you have children!)

3} Drop off a meal (either bought of home-cooked) for someone who recently had surgery or a baby. (ask for food allergies or preferences beforehand)

4}  Invite a new person to sit with you at church.

5}  Offer a ride to a person who doesn't drive.

6}  Surprise a neighbor with flowers or vegetables from your garden.

7}  Offer to pick up things at the store for someone who has a hard time getting out.

8}  Invite someone to join you on what is usually a family outing- the park, the farmer's market, a walk.

9}  When you meet a new person at church, invite them to lunch that day. And if he/she can't do lunch that day, schedule a meal for another day.

10}  Go out for tea or coffee (or ice cream!) with someone who is not in the same age bracket as you. 


To think of more ways to show hospitality, ask yourself, "What do I do already?", then ask yourself, "And how can I invite someone to do this with me?"

Final Thoughts on Hospitality (Part 5 of 5)

Hospitality sounds complicated, but it really isn’t. 

Magazines, stores, TV shows, and Pinterest make standards look impossible to achieve, but notice that the Bible doesn’t mention anything about cooking, decorating, cleaning your house, or being a good conversationalist. It simply says “seek to show hospitality.” Dioko philoxenia. Pursue a love of strangers. Cultivate it. With confidence, use the gifts that God gave you and be the first to reach out and make a connection. You don’t have to qualify somehow before you can practice hospitality. It’s as simple as a child going up to another child in the park and asking “Do you want to play with me?” or “Do you want to share my cookie?” That’s hospitality. 

And though I say it’s simple, I know it’s not always easy. We all have obstacles to overcome. Some aspects of hospitality will come easily to you, and some will be hard. Scripture memorization is easy for some people, and difficult for others. But just because it's hard doesn't mean we shouldn't do it.

And sometimes practicing hospitality takes courage. Sometimes it takes energy. Sometimes it takes repentance and inviting over the person that you feel had wronged you somehow. Being obedient in hospitality, like any spiritual discipline, takes work, practice, and preparation. And as a followers of Christ, we are called to be hospitable. We are called to obey. It’s evangelism. It’s loving your neighbor as yourself, one of the great commandments given by Jesus. So don’t discredit hospitality as something other people do, or something you can do someday. 

Of course, obedience doesn’t mean inviting people over even if you are ill, or you had a baby recently, or you are dealing with family issues. If your own life isn’t in “order” (for example, if your marriage is struggling) you need to take care of that first. Those are times to receive hospitality. There are seasons when you will practice hospitality more and seasons when you will practice hospitality less–that’s natural. I myself go through phases. I’ll have people over every week for several weeks in a row, then I need to take a break for a few weeks. I'm naturally an introvert and so I need time to recharge.

And–this is important–I need to practice hospitality without grumbling.

I Peter 8:8-9 Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. 

There has been times when I’m getting ready for a dinner and I’m tired and have a bad attitude. 

"Last thing I want to do is host a party right now," I would say to myself. "I'd rather hide in a hole." 

But remember the story of sisters Mary and Martha. Martha  is busy serving and preparing a meal while Mary simply sits at Jesus's feet. When Martha asks Jesus to tell her sister to help with dinner, Jesus says, “She has chosen the better thing.” I never understood this before. Was it wrong for Martha to be making a meal while Jesus was there?  No, Jesus gently scolds Martha, not because what she was doing wasn’t worth the time, but because she was grumbling. Her heart was in the wrong place. She wasn’t really being hospitable. But Mary was. 

The beauty of the way my story ends is that God still uses my shortcomings to bless me. After having people over, I’m always glad I did it. 

To end this series on hospitality, here is a quote from Joanne Thompson’s book “Table Life- Savoring the Hospitality of Jesus in Your Home.”

“Christian hospitality is like a great harvest of bread, delighting us with a joy only God can supply. It’s common to hear phrases like “pray by faith,” “witness by faith,” “give by faith.” But how often have you heard someone say, “I entertain by faith”? It sounds unfamiliar, doesn’t it? Our tendency is to categorize hospitality into two groups of people: those who naturally love to entertain and those who say, “That’s not my thing.” Both perspectives may be devoid of faith. And yet it is faith–that is, our living connection with God– that opens the door for every Christ follower to experience God’s treasures of the table.

Hospitality is more about your faith than your competence. A farmer can’t create a single grain of wheat himself, but by faith, he cooperates with God by tilling, planting, watering, and expecting a great return. Sharing your table isn’t fueled by faith in your magnificent entertaining skills or gregarious personality; it’s believing that God will satisfy hearts as well as appetites when you share your table in Jesus’ name.”

The Call to Hospitality- Passing on Blessings (Part 4 of 5)

My husband and I and our friend Susan recently had an opportunity to visit the home of an Iraqi refugee. We were invited into the small apartment and offered sweet, delicious Turkish coffee. It was hot that day; there was no air conditioning in the home. The family did not own much; their furniture were most likely second-hand. But we chatted for hours and left feeling like old friends.

Sometimes I forget that hospitality doesn't depend on the size of my home, or the price of my furniture, or the food I offer my guests. I live in an area where many of the homes, inside and out, look like they could be featured on a magazine cover. I feel the pressure to impress. But as I mentioned in previous posts, biblical hospitality is not entertaining or showing off. Biblical hospitality is taking what God has given me and multiplying it by sharing it with others.

So what does that look like? My family has sit-down dinners, so we invite people join us. I sing and play the piano, so on occasion I will visit the elderly in nursing homes and play for them. When I bake, I will make an extra loaf for a neighbor. I have a car, so I can offer someone a ride. I'm not a gardener, but if you are, you can drop off a bouquet or veggies at someone’s home. If you have time while riding the airplane, chat with the person next to you instead of scrolling on your phone. If you are sitting with friends at church, invite a new person to sit with you. There are an incredible number of ways to be hospitable when we focus on what we have, more than what we don't have! And you can be hospitable in ways that I cannot!

In the first century church, Christians opened up their homes to host church meetings. They shared everything. Acts 4 says there was not a needy person among them. People noticed that Jews and Gentiles, masters and slaves, men and women, rich and poor were welcomed. They would gather for dinners that Bible scholars call "love feasts", where communion would be shared and Christ's sacrifice be remembered.

And that is what I picture heaven to be, a giant potluck where people of all different ages and backgrounds gather together to feast. We all bring something to contribute to the meal and we all partake of what others had brought. Everyone feels welcomed and loved. It's the most amazing party of ever!

That is hospitality. A bit of heaven to earth.

The Call to Hospitality- Strangers as Family (Part 3 of 5)

We are surrounded by lonely people. 

An article on the Scientific American website says, “Thanks to remarkable new technologies and the widespread use of social media, we are more 'connected' than ever before. Yet as a nation, we are also more lonely. In fact, a recent study found that a staggering 47% of Americans often feel alone, left out and lacking meaningful connection with others. This is true for all ages, from teenagers to older adults.”

It’s true that once a person graduates from college, it’s harder to make friends. You might make friends at work, but rarely are those deep abiding friendships. More and more, people commute long distances to work, families don’t live near each other, and neighbors are aloof. So a person hopes to find friends somewhere, at a book club, for example. You look for friends among those who share your interests. 

But this is not the case for those of us in Christ's family.  We come from many different backgrounds and have many different interests, but we are united by the amazing love of Christ. We ourselves, having been invited by God to become a child in His family, now in the name of Christ look to invite “strangers” who may be very different from us. This is hospitality, treating a stranger as family, bringing in outsiders, loving others even though we may not have much in common.

Remember Hebrews 13:2, Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. 

The word 'hospitality' in the Greek is philoxenia, which literally means 'love of strangers'. This love is a brotherly affection, phileo; it’s the love described in Romans 12. If our phileo is genuine, we would not hesitate to show hospitality even to a stranger. This may mean talking to a new person on a Sunday morning. This may mean making room for one more at Christmas because someone brought with him a person who had nowhere to celebrate. The Old Testament is full of commands to include strangers, or sojourners, at the Jewish festivals and to treat them the same as if they were a Jew.

Leviticus 19:33-34 “When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God."

Deuteronomy 16:14 You shall rejoice in your feast, you and your son and your daughter, your male servant and your female servant, the Levite, the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow who are within your towns.

And these are just two of the many commandments given to the Israelites. The idea here is when you see at stranger, you don’t look upon him as an outsider. You treat him just as if he is one of you.

Now, of course this doesn't mean that you have to invite home every person you meet on the street. The key is to remember that as Christians, we are not a part of an exclusive club. We should never become detached, elite, or cliquey. We should strive (dioko, remember that verb from Part 2?) to be the first one to intentionally break the invisible barrier that divides us as strangers. And for some of us, this is hard. We feel vulnerable. We worry about what people might say if we shared ourselves with them. But put aside your self-consciousness and uneasiness as you look to Jesus as the ultimate example of love. He loved us even when we were His enemies. He loved those who were dirty, broken, and unworthy of love. He removed all barriers so that we could be with Him.

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." ~Matthew 25:37-40

The Call to Hospitality- Ambassadorship (Part 2 of 5)

Did you know… the most hospitable person who ever lived was a homeless man?

This man was Jesus of Nazareth, who never threw a party in his home, but invited everyone he met to the biggest and grandest party that ever was–the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus talked about the Kingdom more than anything else (yes, more than anger, murder, hypocrisy or adultery)! Everywhere he went, he shared about the Kingdom and revealed this Kingdom through his actions: he ate with the outcasts, he fed people, he called the friendless to be his friend, he touched people who were deemed unclean, he comforted the sad and lonely. This is hospitality.

And that is what we are called to do too. Hospitality is being an ambassador of the King of Heaven. As ambassadors, we are going out in Jesus’s behalf and representing the King of heaven to the world. This is the King who loved us even when we were his enemies. This is the King of peace and hope and unconditional love. And we get to wear that badge! And if we’re ambassadors, then our homes are an embassy, a safe place where people can find a peace and comfort that they may not find elsewhere. A cup of tea, a chair, and a listening ear are all you really need for this kind of hospitality.

But it’s not just in our homes that people should feel loved; it’s in our presence. You make people “at home”, and you can do that anywhere. It can be an another person’s house. It can be at work. This is the fundamental difference between being hospitable and entertaining. Any person can entertain and have friends over. Any event coordinator can throw an impressive party. Any interior decorator can make a house look lovely. But hospitality is the overflow of an inner change, an evidence of maturing in Christ. As you mature in Christ, you become more and more an ambassador of heaven, and people see that in you. 

Paul writes in his letter to the Romans:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.... (Romans 12:1-2 ESV)

You may already be familiar with these verses. They talk about growing and becoming more Christ-like and standing out in this world. See, though, what Paul says as he continues with his list of ways to grow in our faith. Just a few verses down, he writes:

Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. (Romans 12:9-13 ESV)

Have you ever noticed that hospitality is on this list? If you want to be more Christ-like, you must seek to show hospitality!

And what does it mean to "seek to show?" In the Greek, the word is dioko, a very strong verb meaning "to pursue, to cultivate, to strive toward, or to run after". In the NIV, the word is translated to "practice", but it would be practice with intense effort and a definite purpose or goal. My husband studied the work dioko and discovered that it was the same word used in Acts 9:5 to describe Saul and his persecution of early Christ followers. Saul was intensely pursuing Christians to kill them. We should be intensely pursuing people to love them. This is not a haphazard activity or weekend hobby! If we are mature followers of Christ, we should be actively looking for opportunities to show hospitality, because God’s love is overflowing in us so much that we "Bless those who persecute you, bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:14-15 ESV). We desire to reach out because we know that we are representatives of the God of love. 

So the first step in understanding biblical hospitality is knowing that it is not limited to your home. We are not called to throwing impressive Pinterest-worthy parties. Remember my definition from the last post: hospitality is showing love to your neighbor and caring for him/her in ways that embody the home. I seek to look beyond my circle of family and friends and people with whom I feel most comfortable. I strive to show hospitality to the librarian and the grocer and the mom at the park. I work to show hospitality even to the person who spoke to me rudely or the neighbor who seems to be antagonistic towards me. After all, God loved us while we were still his enemies (Romans 5:8) and as His ambassadors, He calls us to do the same.

The Call to Hospitality (Part 1 of 5)

What comes to mind when you hear the word 'hospitality'?

"Yes! I LOVE throwing a good party! Baby showers, birthdays, holidays, you name it! I have decorations and dishes ready for every event and I know exactly what will be on the menu!"

or

"No! All the cleaning I have to do beforehand! And I'm just not a great cook! And where would everyone sit?! Our house is so small!"

Before you read any further, you should know that this series of posts is not about throwing parties. I will not be giving you tips on decorating or menu planning. I will not even include a recipe. Because, hospitality is not about parties! But don't be disappointed, because we will be talking about so much more! Just what does the Bible say about hospitality? And why is it important?

First, let's look at the modern definition of hospitality: the entertainment of guests in your home. The problem with this definition is that it is very limiting. What if your home is not very big? What if your budget is not very big? Does entertainment mean telling jokes and juggling? And how does this kind of hospitality differentiate between a warm, genuine invitation for a simple dinner versus a gala thrown by a hired event coordinator?

In contrast, let's look at the definition of biblical hospitality.  There is no one verse that clearly states what hospitality should look like, so this is what I came up with based on what I've learned from the Bible:

Through love, caring for your neighbor's needs in ways that embody the home.

Why your "neighbor"? Because you can show hospitality to anyone who is near you. Why "needs"? Because you are thinking about what this person needs the most at this time, more than thinking about what you are willing to give. And why "ways that embody the home"? Because the home is a place of love, trust, care, and acceptance, and we would not be truly hospitable if we did not give those things. Just think, a simple cup of cocoa and conversation warms a heart more than a buffet and a DJ.

But maybe this definition is still too ambiguous. So to help you (and not to overwhelm you), I will take time in my next four posts to describe biblical hospitality in depth (and what the Bible has to say) and giving you suggestions on how to make it a part of your life.

One final thought for today: as followers of Christ, we are called to be hospitable. Romans 12:13 says simply "Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality." Hospitality is evangelism. It is loving your neighbor as yourself–one of the great commandments given by Jesus. So don't discredit is as something other people do, or as something you can do someday. But also don't feel discouraged if you feel ill-equipped in this area. We are all growing, and I hope to encourage you if you seek to grow in the area of hospitality!

Joy & Honor

God's Power Through Our Meekness (by guest writer, Stephanie McDaniels)

Meekness is not a word that is used much nowadays, especially in a culture that equates meekness to being weak. 'Meekness' does not mean 'weakness', though according to the worldview's definition, it means exactly that. The worldview thinks meekness produces men and women who have no backbone and no boldness.  The biblical definition of meekness means 'power under control'.  Jesus says, “for I am meek and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11:29). Jesus by far was not weak, but rather, courageous and bold.  Jesus walked this earth with meekness, having complete control over His power with obedience to the Father (Philippians 2:1-11). 

The question then becomes...

How do we as Christ followers show meekness in today's world where it is looked down on? What stops you from desiring this quality Jesus possessed?

Jesus, our High Priest, who faithfully obeyed the Father's will and died on the cross for our sins, was the perfect example of a humble servant. The Father's son came not to be served but to serve (Matthew 20:28). This is in contrast to today's “ME” culture of putting our desires first. As Christians, we have to separate ourselves from this natural sinful nature and consciously put others before ourselves.  This could be as simple as allowing someone to go before you in the grocery store line when you were the obvious next customer. Or extending forgiveness and grace to a husband who has said unkind things to you after a stressful day at work.  Another way could be like a mother showing love to her rebellious teenager who just spent the last hour yelling and cursing at her.  When we choose to be meek, God's power and love is made more evident to the people around us.

Showing meekness (power under the Spirit’s control) means knowing and trusting that God can use everyday events to conform us more into the image of Him. Use these opportunities to glorify our Father in heaven.  Always know God is good. He cares about us in every aspect of our lives. As we go through our daily lives, we must put on a humble servant's attitude.  Allow the Holy Spirit to work within you, for it is He who possesses the power that sustains you. 

I recently wrote a note to a dear friend of mine, and in the note I mentioned how I admired her meekness. She e-mailed me after receiving the note, a bit surprised because she never thought of herself as being meek.  What an awesome testament of how work the Holy Spirit works in our daily lives without our even knowing it!

When I Grow Up

Permit me a moment to brag about my friend Sharon. She had sent me such a sweet, hand-written note with her Christmas card, that I feel the need to tell you about her.

After years of homeschooling her four children, Sharon "graduated" and turned her focus to mentoring women and growing as a leader. She spoke at MOPs meetings, led Bible studies, and attended Bible classes and conferences. So when our church was in need of a new leader for the women's ministry, Sharon was the obvious choice.

Now what is surprising to those who do not know Sharon well is that Sharon is very much an introvert. She would be the first to tell you that she doesn't have the dominant personality that people would associate with a natural leader. Quiet and shy, Sharon prefers to be behind-the-scenes cooking and baking for church events. She and I have much in common! 

But I have heard her share about her personal struggles and her desire to be obedient to God, which has led her to where she is now– a pastor to women, a speaker, a daughter of God following the words of Titus 2:3-5. And as I have gotten to know her through our Bible study group and our women's discipleship time, I can say that, without a doubt, Sharon is who I want to be "when I grow up". My ambition is not to be her successor at our church, but to live in such a way that I could be a candidate.

As 2017 quickly approaches, I find myself thinking about my goals for the new year. One goal is to be purposeful in taking steps toward "growing up", with women like Sharon as my role models and mentors. Then in twenty years, I hope to be more kind, more patient, more wise, more bold, and more gracious than I was in 2016. I hope to be someone that young women can look up to. In short, I hope to be more like Christ.

Home for the Holidays?

"How was your Thanksgiving?" I asked the man behind the check-out counter.

"It was enjoyable," he replied. "I was with my friends and we had a good time."

"Oh, is your family not local?" I asked sympathetically.

"Oh, they're local. I just don't like being with them. It's always drama when I'm with them and this year I wanted some peace."

This scenario is becoming all too common. Mention "going home for the holidays" and you will get a number of scowls and frowns. How sad it is that so many people grew up in a house that was full of anger, abuse, or abandonment. They would never want to sing, "I'll...be home...for Christmas." Some don't even have a home to go to anymore because their parents are divorced or estranged.

Christmas is the perfect time to open your doors to these people. Invite them into the warmth of your home. You don't have to put on a big party or make a fancy dinner. Just think the three C's: coffee, cookies, and conversation. Start by getting to know them and making yourself available. Show them through your actions what a loving home is like. Then when the time is right, share with them the fourth and most important C: Christ. If a person grew up in a broken home, only God can heal them of those wounds.

And if you are the one groaning at the thought of going home for Christmas, but you are going anyway, pray for your time with your family. God can do miraculous things! Pray that you will be the peacemaker, the one showing God's grace. Remember the words of James 1:19: Know this, my beloved brothers, let every person be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger.

One more thought for this holiday season: Christmas is a bittersweet time for those who have lost loved ones. In the last month, four of my friends have lost parents. Others have lost loved ones earlier in the year. Be tenderhearted towards those who feel especially lonely right now and need extra love. Look for opportunities great and small to shine some light in their darkness!

Ashamed of My House

Sigh. What do people think of us when they see our house?

Boards in the fence are either missing or hanging on for dear life. The lawn is dead (brown is the new green, right?), which gives our faded-orange-sherbet house a very monochromatic, tired look. The kitchen is also tired, so much so that the dishwasher, faucet, stove, and cabinets seem to be giving up on us, one by one. Cracks and holes in the walls cry out for patching and a fresh coat of paint. The backyard is in its usual state of chaos, like the rest of the house– the house full time of mismatched, hand-me-down furniture and loud, energetic children.

We are the "ugly" house on our street. The "poor" family. "Those" neighbors. Sometimes, I admit, I am ashamed of my house. I wish it looked more shiny and welcoming. I wish I had more time and money to spend on landscaping, remodeling, and decorating. To steal a line from the musical 'Into the Woods', "I wish…"

Then a family from Iraq visits us. We have a wonderful, simple time together learning about each other's culture. Without knowing why, I start feeling a bit uncomfortable.

What do they think of us when they see our house?

A feeling of shame comes over me again, but not because my house isn't as lovely as I would like it to be, but because it is more than anything they have in Iraq.

Air conditioning and heat. Sturdy walls and a roof. Appliances that wash my clothes or heat my food and water. Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and two living areas. A patch of lawn.

And this doesn't include the amazing food we eat, the general good health we experience, and the feeling of security we have.

I live a blessed life of ease and luxury.

But my Iraqi friends don't lecture me for our extravagance. They are grateful for our friendship and the hospitality we show them. And yet, I know that they have seen refugees run for their lives with nothing more than the clothes on their back. They live among the truly poor– people who live in cardboard houses in the dead of winter. Their church meets in a small building furnished with only old couches and folding chairs. And they are not ashamed to say, "Come visit us!"

It is my turn to be grateful– for renewed perspective, for brotherly love that knows no boundaries, and for a shame that leads to repentance and contentedness.

Sunday Expectations

(This post is based on thoughts that are directly and indirectly connected to my last post on koinonia.)

Do you get annoyed when you order something at a restaurant and the waiter says, "Oh, we're out of that today"? Or when you are at a store and you wait and wait for service, and finally someone comes to help you?

We have an expectation of a certain quality of service when we enter an establishment, whether it is a restaurant, grocery store, or nail parlor, but (time for a heart check) do we have those same expectations when we enter our church building on Sundays?

Ask yourself these questions honestly:

-Would I be grumpy if there were no donuts and coffee at church?

-Would I complain if the music was different or someone other than the usual preacher gave the sermon?

-Would I be angry if there was no children's or youth program?

-Would I leave if the chairs were hard or the temperature too hot or cold?

Sadly, here in the United States, many church-goers (and I say church-goers because this includes those who go to church out of habit and those who are Christ-followers) have lived in comfort for so long that sometimes they treat our Sunday mornings like they would a trip to a restaurant. They go there expecting to be served and they have come to expect all churches to provide certain services. And if they don't receive it at one church, they simply go to another.

We, as Christ-followers, must remember to be gracious. If I can be gracious when I see a waiter running ragged to fill in for a sick co-worker, or when a store or restaurant is out of stock on an item, then I can certainly be even more gracious when it comes to Sunday mornings. If I simply remind myself that a church is NOT a place of business, then my expectations will also change. Why do we gather with other Christians? To serve one another, with the gifts that God has given us. It's our opportunity to care for people whom we don't see everyday. It's our chance to invite people into our family. It's koinonia.

So, what should we expect from our Sunday (or Saturday) worship time?

1) The church is full of broken people, all in need of a Savior. Though a person may look happy and healthy on the outside, his/her inside may be crying and looking for comfort. Go to church expecting to be used by God to meet someone's need.

2) The church is served mostly by volunteers. These are people who are giving their time and energy, on their own accord, to help make a Sunday morning service happen. Be grateful for those people (say "Thank you!" to the one who picks up the donuts every week) and be gracious when something happens and that person is not there to fulfill his/her role. Go to church expecting to serve those who are serving you!

3) Expect things to be different from week to week. The Church is not static, nor is it confined to a building. Missions trips, visitations, and pastors speaking at other churches are all a part of a healthy church body. If you are in search of a new church, I recommend visiting a church more than once to get a better feel for the life of that church body.

4) Expect God's spirit to fill the place with warmth and love whether or not there are coffee and donuts, a five-piece band, cushy chairs, or a top-notch, state-of-the-art childcare program. If you visit a church that has all of the above but is lacking in strong, Biblical teaching or a welcoming spirit, "all of the above" CANNOT fill that hole (and neither is it really a church then… it is a childcare facility that offers free food, live music, and a place to kick back.)

Koinonia

My family just got back from a weekend in the mountains with our church family. As always, our time together was fruitful: new friendships were formed, old friendships were deepened, memories were made. This year, I was especially blessed because I am now 31 weeks pregnant and people were quick to step in and help with our tent or our energetic toddler. I love the strong feeling of community that I get on a weekend like this one.

But even as I experienced wonderful care and friendship, I noticed that there were people on the outskirts. I know how hard it is to break through the invisible barrier of an established community. Which is why I especially love our church body; we strive to practice koinonia.

If you've never heard of the word koinonia, let me tell you a little about it. It is a Greek word that means 'communion', 'sharing', or 'fellowship'. It is the deep connection that Christ nurtures in a church body, one that goes beyond superficial commonalities. An example of koinonia can be found in Acts 2:42-47:

And they devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. And awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved.

It is koinonia that sets the Church apart from the rest of the world. It is koinonia that astounds people when they see multiple cultures and social classes worshiping together. It is koinonia that allows people of different backgrounds to form a bond of love and encouragement. Without Christ as the foundation and koinonia as a fruit of His love, the Church would fall apart. As Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsame:

The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. (John 17:22-23)

And so, even as I noticed those on the outskirts at camp, I also noticed those who were dedicated to cultivating koinonia. I saw them making an effort to meet new people and to reach out to those who didn't easily mingle, and I was so thankful for them. At dinner one night, a young friend of mine came to me, her plate in hand, and whispered, "I'm looking for a place to sit, with people I don't know. Do you have any recommendations?" 

I pointed to a table where an older, tattooed, grizzly-looking gentleman was sitting. I had only met him the day before, but I knew that he had some great stories to tell.

"That man there has fostered more than 200 teenagers in 15 years. He's amazing. Sit with him."

Our last morning at the camp was especially sweet. My young son was waving and saying 'hi' to everyone he saw. Everywhere he looked, he saw a friend. During our morning service, I glanced around the room and felt an overflow of gratitude for the people I saw, especially those that I had gotten to know over the past two days. I prayed for the man who was reevaluating his life after experiencing heart failure; the couple who was recently married and were now learning to join their families and their lives; the homeschooling family who moved from another state and was looking for a new church family. Before I left, I invited this family to join us on Sunday mornings. I want them to experience koinonia through our church body like I have.

My Fishes and Loaves

There are times when I feel overwhelmed by the need I see in the world. When I am on the road and I stop at an intersection, I study the cars that "meet" me at this juncture and estimate how many people are in the cars, and how many families they represent, and how many stories and sadnesses they hold all together. Then I feel like the author of Ecclesiastes when he writes, "I saw the tears of the oppressed- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of the oppressors- and they have no comforter" (4:1).

Or if I simply sit on a Sunday and watch people as they come and go for the morning service, I see various groups, each with specific needs. There are the handicapped, the elderly couples or widows/widowers, young married couples, teenagers, dating couples, single parents, divorced parents, families with children, families without children, and all the children themselves– how could I possibly help them all?!

The temptation for me is to fall into utter hopelessness, or to veer to the other extreme: I want to do all that I can to help as many people as possible. Then I end up saying, "Yes, I can do that!" to everyone and everything until I collapse in an emotionally and physically-exhausted heap.

Gladly, that was the tendency of a much younger me. Since becoming a wife, a mother, and a more diligent follower of Christ, I have learned that it is not my task to save everyone. But neither is it my job to sit back and mope. And a great example of this is the story of the boy with the fishes and loaves (see Matthew 14, Mark 6, Luke 9, and John 6), which I read with my younger children earlier this week. Picture this...

It had been a long day. People had journeyed from all over to meet this man named Jesus, and among them was a boy. His mother had sent him to the Lake of Galilee to see what was going on there. And when he arrived, he was excited to see the healings and to hear the teachings of Jesus.

But it was still tiring to sit out in the sun for so many hours. The boy was grateful for the meal his mother had packed for him. No one else seemed ready to leave, and so the boy settled on a small rock and prepared to devour his five loaves of bread and two small fishes.

Then, just before he bit into a loaf, he heard some men talking.

"Even if we had eight month's worth of wages, we couldn't feed all these people!"

Jesus and his friends were going to try to feed everyone?! The boy looked around him. From his position on the hill, he could see the people stretch between him and the lake. Never before had the boy seen so many people! It would be impossible for anyone but Caesar to feed such a large crowd! What could anyone do but send the people home?

The boy lifted the loaf to his mouth again, ready to savor his mother's delicious bread, when he saw one of Jesus's friends come near. The man was scanning the crowd, asking here and there, "Do you have any food?"

The boy didn't know what to do. What difference would his two fishes and five loaves make? But maybe the man was asking for food because Jesus was hungry. The boy stood up.

"Excuse me, sir, I have some food."

The man quickly ran over. "How much do you have?"

"Only five loaves of bread and two fishes. But Jesus can have it all, if He wants."

The man heaved a tired sigh. "Okay, that's fine. Come with me then."

The boy gathered his basket and cloak and walked with the man towards the hill where Jesus sat. His heart pounded. He was going to share his food with Jesus! But what would Jesus think of such a meager meal? There was no turning back now. When they reached Jesus, the boy shakily held his basket out. Jesus smiled at the boy, took the basket, and held it up to the sky, giving thanks for the food.

Then Jesus did something the boy did not expect. Without taking any for himself, Jesus told his friends to pass the food out to the crowd. The boy watched as person after person was fed fish and bread, and even as he watched, he couldn't explain how this was possible. It took an hour for Jesus's twelve friends to pass out the food, and when everyone had had their fill, Jesus told the men to collect the leftovers– each returning with one big basketful!

The boy could have kept his food for himself. He could have shrugged his shoulders in pessimism or apathy because, logically, his food could not have fed more than three or four people at best.

But the little he had, he gave to Jesus. And it was Jesus who took that little and made it more. And He didn't make it 'just enough', He went above and beyond! Jesus is the God of abundance!

So I don't need to give in despair, nor do I need to take on the burdens of the world. When Jesus sees people driving in their cars or sitting in a church service, and He sees ALL their sadnesses and heartaches, He also sees a very different picture–one of joy and healing– "…for He Himself knew what he would do." (John 6:6) 

And the best part is that he invites me to take part in it, to have a front row seat, to be his right-hand man! Every thing I do, no matter how small, if I do it for Jesus, can be used (and multiplied) by Him to bless people. Which reminds me of one of my favorite verses:

Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him. ~Colossians 3:17

I will give to God what little I have to give, by writing this post, or inviting a friend over, or watching someone's baby, or sending someone a card. Who knows how far reaching my one action can go when I allow God to be the One who saves, the One who makes abundance flow from nothing?