Ooff! This one hurts. That rug burn/turf burn sort of pain of exposure. I built a life and family on welcoming sojourners on the way. Whether for a night, a month or a year, I’ve almost always had a place and a space to welcome a Michael. As a woman built more like a linebacker than a debutante, I’ve had the privilege of not thinking twice about my physical safety in situations like this, but rather being led by my intuition. I’ve also been on the receiving end of such radical grace.
Until this last year, when a family member became the untoward threat, and God made it clear that continued shared space had become dangerously life and soul threatening. The very person I spent 20+ years building a hospitable life with was now challenging every idea I had about sacrificial love, covenant marriage, loving the mentally I’ll and having an open door. I had to remove him and slam the door shut. Antithetical to every ounce of my being. I had to trust that my brothers and sisters in Christ could step in where I could no longer stand. And figure out how to be ok when they failed him and me. I continue to wrestle with everything else, but I love how your posts challenge me to think, acknowledge that this becoming Christ-like is a messy, fretful journey where we get it wrong many times before we get it right, and that Jesus still makes good use of the mess. You prompt me to reflect and dig in, creating space to be ok with things not being ok… a virtual sanctuary of sorts.
Thank you for sharing this tender response, Cara. One of the fundamental tenets of Christian hospitality (as you reinforce so poignantly here), is that we can't do it without the support of the Body of Christ -- there are seasons are ability to welcome others will be constrained or threatened, and we must, as you say, "trust that my brothers and sisters in Christ could step in where I could no longer stand. And figure out how to be okay with they failed him and me." Life in the Body of Christ is hard, but who else has the words of life, right?
I hope you'll continue to share as we explore these questions together.
Ooff! This one hurts. That rug burn/turf burn sort of pain of exposure. I built a life and family on welcoming sojourners on the way. Whether for a night, a month or a year, I’ve almost always had a place and a space to welcome a Michael. As a woman built more like a linebacker than a debutante, I’ve had the privilege of not thinking twice about my physical safety in situations like this, but rather being led by my intuition. I’ve also been on the receiving end of such radical grace.
Until this last year, when a family member became the untoward threat, and God made it clear that continued shared space had become dangerously life and soul threatening. The very person I spent 20+ years building a hospitable life with was now challenging every idea I had about sacrificial love, covenant marriage, loving the mentally I’ll and having an open door. I had to remove him and slam the door shut. Antithetical to every ounce of my being. I had to trust that my brothers and sisters in Christ could step in where I could no longer stand. And figure out how to be ok when they failed him and me. I continue to wrestle with everything else, but I love how your posts challenge me to think, acknowledge that this becoming Christ-like is a messy, fretful journey where we get it wrong many times before we get it right, and that Jesus still makes good use of the mess. You prompt me to reflect and dig in, creating space to be ok with things not being ok… a virtual sanctuary of sorts.
Thank you for sharing this tender response, Cara. One of the fundamental tenets of Christian hospitality (as you reinforce so poignantly here), is that we can't do it without the support of the Body of Christ -- there are seasons are ability to welcome others will be constrained or threatened, and we must, as you say, "trust that my brothers and sisters in Christ could step in where I could no longer stand. And figure out how to be okay with they failed him and me." Life in the Body of Christ is hard, but who else has the words of life, right?
I hope you'll continue to share as we explore these questions together.