Toddler Valentines Party at our place. We're missing almost 10 little ones from this picture, they were busy playing in the bedrooms or outside, but these babies are just too cute!
Recently my mom sent me an article called "In praise of scruffy hospitality" and just the title alone sold me on whatever life-lesson this author was selling. Robin Shreeves talks about her quest to embrace her authentic life, family and home, which maybe wasn't perfectly put-together but was full of warmth and love. The article really resonated with me because it's my reality. We have friends in our home almost on the daily and while the windows never sparkle and the floor is rarely without a fishie or two, I know they feel welcome and safe within my walls. And that is enough for me. No, that is everything to me.
Shreeves quotes someone named Father Jack who says, "Scruffy hospitality means you're not waiting for everything in your house to be in order before you host and serve friends in your home. Scruffy hospitality means you hunger more for good conversation and serving a simple meal of what you have, not what you don't have. Scruffy hospitality means you're more interested in quality conversation that the impression your home or lawn makes. If we only share meals with friends when we're excellent, we aren't truly sharing life together."
Isn't that amazing? I was so encouraged after reading this article and realized that I was creating the home I have always wanted for our family.
But that's not where the story ends. No, that's not even really where it begins. I had no intention to mention this article on here at all were it not for a special experience I had this morning that made me see the principles it shared in a new light.
I dropped Cora off at her playgroup and rushed to the temple, trying to make the best use of my two hours sans kids during the week. Just after parking and before running in the doors I glanced in my rearview mirror only to realize that in my haste to get the kids ready, fed and out of the house I somehow forgot to apply half of my make-up. Oh well, I thought a little self consciously, no time to go home so I'm going in. Already feeling a little out of sorts, I started putting on my white temple dress and immediately noticed that despite my preparations it was wrinkly beyond belief, and more than that it had a couple of dark spots that must have happened when I washed it last.
A little embarrassed, a little disappointed, I got dressed and looked at my wonky reflection in the mirror. Unexpectedly, this silly article about scruffy hospitality came instantly to my mind and warmth filled my body. Although the parallels are not perfect, I immediately knew the lesson I was supposed to be learning. While praising scruffy hospitality came easy to me, I was taught that accepting my deep and good desire to be a disciple, no matter my scruffiness, came easy to the Lord. My clothes are not what matters in the temple, frankly my clothes are never what matters to the Lord, it's my heart He desires and it was in the right place. I want to be the kind of disciple that hungers for His word and accepts that although I am not perfect, He loves me perfectly. I knew how to be a scruffy host, and this morning I learned how to be a scruffy guest, because sometimes it is what it is, right? And there is beauty in it all.
I ended up spending a wonderful hour in the temple, one of my best experiences in recent memory. I cried at the beauty and simplicity of promises that God has given me and I felt angelic while serving along so many other faithful women. When I was getting back into my normal clothes I realized that not once during the hour had I remembered my imperfections, I guess it didn't really matter after all.
I'm far from perfect, like
really, really far, but I'm showing up to my life and trying to do the right thing and I'm so grateful for little moments like this morning that remind me I'm doing alright.