The time finally arrived for my four-month furlough—a time I would spend in 11 different cities with nine different host families—a time to not only reconnect with ministry partners and dear, long-time friends, but as circumstances would orchestrate it, a time to learn about hospitality.

“I’ve got some people for you to meet tomorrow.” 

“There is a new aquarium that just opened nearby. You’re really gonna love it. I’ll take you there tomorrow.” 

“My in-laws have been wanting to meet you. I’ve set up a time for them to pass by this evening, so you can share about some of what’s been happening in…” 

“Auntie Coco, can you show us the ABC song on your phone?” 

“Can you play with us now?” 

...and on and on it went. From Suzanne’s incoherent, never-ending, long-winded, juicy tales which would always start with “Well, Honey…”, to the high-pitched screams coming out of the kids’ playroom at the crack of dawn, to the family that had every minute of my stay with them scheduled for entertainment or special bites of this or that “I should taste”, I surely did wonder how I would survive. 

I had anticipated my furlough to be spent resting, sleeping in, occasionally hearing chirping birds gently waking me up in the morning—staying with families who would sensibly remember there was a guest in the next room needing much sleep, rest and times of solitude, but circumstances dictated otherwise and in the midst of my crushed expectations, I learned something crucial about hospitality. 

Since hosts are hospitable to make room for different types of guests, guests should also make room for different types of hosts. There is no cookie-cutter definition of what a host should be like. Hospitality is multifaceted. Those gracious families opened their homes and their hearts, they provided me shelter, cooked my favorite meals, took me out to fancy restaurants so I could get a taste of meals I hadn’t eaten in years while away. They got super excited to show me every corner of their town, loan me their car for whichever trip I needed to take around town, took me shopping when they heard I had a hole in my shoe. One night, when I humorously complained about the pounds I had gained while staying with them, their youngest son exclaimed “We usually never eat like this” and this is when I humbly realized how much they had sacrificed for me to have a pleasant stay. All the food they had purchased and all those elaborate meals they had cooked had all been for me.

When I started to focus on all the sacrifices each of one of those families had made to show their love toward me and understood that hospitality is practiced in many forms, I treasured every moment I had spent with each family. They had in their own way served me the best way they knew how, living out Romans 12:13 by sharing their home, heart, meals and much, much more as they practiced hospitality.