Did I Just Say that Out Loud?

We had company over the other night for dinner—and if you didn’t know this about me, I love to entertain.

My freshman guidance counselor took one look at my intake forms and told me I should marry a politician because I had the personality for throwing parties and hosting socials. (True story!)

Well, fast forward about twenty years, and she was right about one thing: I DO love to host a good party! I didn’t marry the politician, but honestly, I think I did even better. 🙂

We try to invite a family over once a week (or every other, depending on our schedule). We do it not only to build community but also to teach our children the gift of hospitality—even though it’s very rarely picture-perfect and our home gets a little squishy. My thought is: if I’m already making a meal, why not just cook a little more and invite another family in?

These particular dinner guests eat differently than we do daily, so I couldn’t just pull out my standby fan favs or grab meat from the basement freezer. I actually had to do some Googling for crowd-pleasing recipes that fit their needs. And I wanted to fill in the gaps with fresh, local fruits and veggies for picky eaters if they weren’t all about my sweet potato and sage lasagna.

So, I spent the morning running to two different grocery stores and a local Amish farm stand—three-year-old in tow. (You mamas know what that’s like!). The older boys were in school that morning, so I knew I had to use my “free-ish” time to knock out the errands.

I spent the next several hours unpacking everything and getting right to work: prepping, cleaning, setting the table, and putting toys away (again). You know, all the things! If you entertain with littles, you know the delicate juggling act: keeping one eye on making sure they put away the toys they just pulled out (because apparently, open floor space MUST be filled), and the other eye on the oven timer so the food is hot and ready without sitting out too long while the cooked veggies wilt on the stove. (Oh and then there’s the attitude issue that needs to be addressed right then and there. :))

Despite the chaos, we had a lovely evening. It’s always a fast-paced dance getting food on the table and diving into good conversation (or at least starting thousands), while managing kids, keeping them in their seats, passing dishes, and making sure everyone is having a good time.

As our guests walked in, the mom exclaimed, “Oh my! You’ve been cooking up a storm. It must have taken you all day!”

I was taken back—and genuinely honored she noticed the effort it took to pull together a meal for ten.

Yet, I immediately brushed her comment off with a quick, “Oh, it was nothing! We’re just so glad you’re here!”

Wait… what?

I paused, internally rethinking what I’d just said while simultaneously trying to keep up the conversation out loud.

“It was nothing?”

Did I really just say that? I did. I didn’t mean it—well, in a way, I guess I did. I didn’t want her to feel guilty or feel like a burden. But the truth was, I had spent the majority of my day preparing our home and a meal to make their family feel valued, loved, welcomed, and (hopefully) rested.

My knee-jerk reaction reminded me of a recent incident at my parents’ home.

A tornado had ripped through our little corner of Lancaster County, taking down the tops of many trees in its path. We spent the day helping my parents clean up their property (they have far more backyard trees than we do), and a neighbor kindly offered his time and power tools to help.

During a water break, my dad graciously thanked him. The neighbor brushed it off, saying, “Oh, I had nothing else to do. It was no problem at all.”

That moment stuck with me. It’s easy to help, love, give, run errands, or listen when we truly aren’t doing anything else. But the reality is, we very rarely are. Truthfully, if we weren’t doing that act of service, we’d be doing something else for ourselves. And let’s be honest—sacrificing for someone else doesn’t come naturally to our selfish human nature unless love is the motivator.

Right or wrong, we pull this response out quite often, don’t we?

We don’t want others to feel like an inconvenience. We want them to think we didn’t have to go out of our way, or that it cost us nothing at all.

No guilt. Easy peasy.

But wait—do we need to hide the effort? Shouldn’t we go out of our way for others? Doesn’t serving people in a meaningful way supposedly cost us something—whether that’s time, convenience, or resources we could have used on ourselves? Is not love an action word?

I’ve been challenged in my thinking about generosity lately. Generosity isn’t a task we check off a list. It’s not just a “tenth” we put in the offering (or more conveniently) have automatically come out of our bank accounts (sorry if I just burst your bubble!). It goes so much deeper.

I think generosity is actually the fruit of living out God’s command to first love Him with our whole heart, and then to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Loving God first keeps all our other loves in proper order. And loving Him first brings so much joy—because He is joy! Out of that abundance, we can truly love others.

Living out these commands as Christ-followers will (and should) cause action. Right? And often, I’d argue, it means sacrifice. It means the inconvenience. Loving people well requires action—and that action will cost us something.

Had I responded differently to my friend, I think it might have made her feel all the more valued, loved, and welcomed. Because she would have known it did take a lot of effort (no, I’m no super mom). But I did it all out of love. I did spend the day preparing a special evening for them because I wanted her to feel cherished. It cost me my day, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat (which we will probably do next week).

Because that’s what it means to love well. This is living generously.