How I Experienced Hospitality at its Best

It was a Sunday morning and after the worship service ended, my husband left church to visit a friend that was in the hospital (out of town). 

That meant that I would need a ride home. I thought of asking a friend who lives close to me, but she didn't sit in her usual place (down the isle from us). Instead, another friend sat next to us, who usually sits elsewhere. So after the service ended, I asked Myrian if she could take me home. She was happy to do so. 

We left the church and made the short five-minute trip to my house. But, I didn't get out of the car immediately because we had been engaged in conversation which now continued in the parked car in front of my house. In fact, we continued to talk for about an hour in Myrian's car. 

All this time, I was being nudged by the Holy Spirit to invite Myrian into my house, which wasn't in perfect condition - it looked lived in. But I just continued on with our conversation until I had to go into the house to feed the dog. Even then, I didn't invite Myrian in (I'm ashamed to say!). 

Once in the house and after feeding the dog, I looked around the living room area of my home and it hit me. What was keeping me from welcoming in my friend? The house simply looked a little lived in. 

Besides, it was lunchtime and I had an opportunity to feed the hungry - that was both of us. But what could I serve my friend? And then I remembered the homemade soup - delicious at that - in the refrigerator from the day before.

It was time for me to swallow my pride and obey the mandate given in Scripture to be hospitable. So back out to the car I went and finally asked Myrian to come in for lunch. She was delighted.

I put the soup in a saucepan to heat and while it was heating, I set about to make a simple salad to serve alongside the soup. Next on the table - after pushing aside the papers that were occupying the space we needed for our soup bowls - was some wonderful artisan sourdough bread and butter. Finally, the table was ready with a savory and delicious repast - the perfect meal that Myrian and I needed to nourish our bodies and satisfy our hunger. 

We ate and continued to enjoy the sweet fellowship we have in Christ. What a precious time we had, encouraging one another, laughing and be nourished by the love of Christ as we ate the leftovers from the day before. I've never had a better meal! And what the Lord taught me through this joyful appointment was priceless. 

At that time, I had been reading a book called The Gospel Comes with a Housekey by Rosaria Butterfield. It was the testimony of how the Lord had redeemed Rosaria through a Christian family's ministry of hospitality to her. I had been convicted while reading the book for having had a worldly mentality when it came to opening my home to welcome others. Now the Lord was showing me the joy of welcoming others, prepared or not, into my home, perfect or not.

Through this sweet time with Myrian, I've come to realize that all the busyness and frenzy to get my home perfect for guests had limited me in welcoming others into my home. My home is not a museum nor is it the White House and it especially is not to be shut up to others when it's not perfect. 

We live in our home and it looks lived in. When I thought about that, it hit me that life happens in my home. Productivity via life creates a mess sometimes. And sometimes people come to my door before that mess is cleaned up. Do I typically invite them in? No. Instead. I'll step outside and casually visit with them on the front porch. 

But the Lord has provided a home that should be His first and foremost. If He truly lives here, He would never hesitate to warmly invite anyone who drops by to come inside, no matter what life has done to my house. 

For a welcome mat to be laid at my doorstep and yet nary a welcome extended by me is paramount to hypocrisy. It is anti-Christ! How stingy I've been with what I've always said belongs to Him. 

What blessings I've missed because of the mentality that my house must have a "photo-finish" look to it for a welcome to proceed from my mouth. And how enslaved I've made myself to the flurry of cleaning and polishing this place I call home before anyone can enter in. What I've actually done is to pamper and polish a house instead of loving and caring for others in the lived-in home I have been blessed to share with them.  

And for the very reason I call it home (not "house"), it should be a home, not just a house. There are phrases that express the meaning of home: "being at home" means for one to have a relaxed sense of well-being, to be able to let all the agitating aspects of life go and simply calm one's self in a peaceful state of mind. Should this benefit of my home be only for me? Would Jesus want me to invite others in to "be at home" here also? Would He want me to use my home as a vehicle to minister to those who are harassed by life?

This, I believe, is what happened when I invited Myrian into my lived-in home. That was true hospitality! It was not me entertaining guests. It was the Lord Jesus ministering to both of us as He used a little piece of earth on which a shelter had been erected in 1941 to calm us, to enjoy one another, to bring laughter and to remind ourselves of the kind "welcome" the Lord Jesus has extended to us. This truly was God's will being done on earth as it is in heaven. In fact, it was "heaven on earth"!

My earthly father used to tell us, his children, about the most welcoming family in the church that he attended growing up (where his own father was the pastor). 

This family was not only the most welcoming in the church, but they were also the most financially deprived family in the church. There was hardly anything of value in their home. The couch was old, threadbare and broken down. Yet folks visiting there sat on that couch with no hesitation because of the warm reception they received from this family. Their feeling at home there had nothing to do with the furniture. Rather it was the Christ-like hospitality extended to all who entered.  

There was a great deal of laughter and love in that little ramshackle house. As a child, my father loved visiting there. The joy inside the home was contagious. It was the healing and strengthening joy of the Lord shared by all who entered. This family truly used their home to bring glory to God. 

I do not know the name of those saints, but you can bet that they are with the Lord now and He's welcomed them into His eternal home with the words we all long to hear from Him, "Well done, my good and faithful servants...enter into the joy of your Master."

And those are the words I long to hear my Savior say me when I meet Him face to face. And it won't be because I entertained others in my sparkling clean museum of a home. It will be because I welcomed others as Christ has welcomed me. 

Now may the God who gives perseverance and encouragement grant you to be of the same mind with one another according to Christ Jesus, so that with one accord you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, welcome one another, just as Christ has welcomed you to the glory of God. (Romans 15:5-7)

Posted by Sharon Kaufman

How I Experienced Hospitality at its Best

on September 07, 2025 0 comments

The Art and Heart of Hospitality

We have no idea how wealthy we are just to have a roof over our heads. I take so much for granted. This struck home so profoundly to me today.

And it also struck me that our homes must be shared at all times, even (or maybe especially) when they look lived in. This is how these thoughts came to me:

My neighbor had texted me to ask for ice. When she came to my door, I gladly handed the frozen cubes to her. She then told me that she needed to drive her truck to the store just down the street so she could use the restroom there.

I know you think that you read that last sentence wrong, but you didn’t. You see, this neighbor and her husband, though they live across the street from us, do not live in a house.

Instead, these friends live in their tarped, broken-down truck. It runs, but barely. They have been our neighbors for three years, parked on the curb across the street from our house (though we’ve only gotten to know them better in the past two years or so).

My husband and I love these dear people. They are good friends and good neighbors. They are part of the “homeless” population by today’s standards though they themselves consider their truck to be home. But they do long to have a real roof over their heads as soon as possible.

But back to the story. Knowing that Estelle (not her real name), needed to leave quickly to get to the store to relieve herself, I promptly invited her in to use our restroom. She was so grateful.

As we entered the front door of my house, I apologized that the house was a little messy. And this was Estelle's response, “Please don’t worry about how your house looks. I would give anything to be able to say that.”

Did you get that? Estelle was saying that she would give anything to be able to make such an apology - to have a house that was a little messy to invite guests into, apologizing as I was. I can’t tell you how her response has sobered me!

The Lord has been impressing this message on me heavily for well over a year now. So what Estelle said has been that same message personified by the Holy Spirit through my neighbor. I must not ignore this!

My home (dare I say “our homes” since we are commanded to be hospitable many times in the Bible) must be open to others. We are even commanded to be hospitable to strangers.

Our homes are not museums where a janitor is constantly cleaning to make sure that the antiquities there remain dust-free so they can be admired by the visitors. A museum is a place where non-living things - even dead things - reside and people stare at them, awestruck, in order to connect with the past. Those who visit, walk through the museum till they reach the exit, never having rested all the while because museums are not made for resting.

Instead, my home should be a place where living beings reside, a place that is not constantly being cleaned but rather where people are productive and fruitful and also where they can rest from the living that happens there. Our homes exist for those who are living, not for the dead and/or inanimate.

Our homes should be fruitful and restful, and not just for us. They should be open for others to come in, sit down and find rest from their weariness (even if that means finding rest in the most humble room in our home - our bathroom). 

Our homes should also be a place where others can partake of the home-based fruits of our labors. Perhaps this would be lived out by providing a meal. And that does not have to be hard. It could be a meal of leftover soup from the day before (don't we say that the soup is always better the next day anyway?). Or that shared fruit could be a simple cup of coffee and an encouraging truth, ie., a spiritual fruit, that the Lord impressed upon you earlier in the day as you communed with Him through His written word. 

But back to the museum analogy, do I mean to imply that it’s wrong to clean my home? Of course not! It would be wrong for me to let my house go. What is wrong, however, is to operate under the misconception that my house must be “museum-clean” in order to have “guests” in. It’s wrong to think that my home must be picture-perfect for those who enter so that they can gaze in awe at the well-dusted, cared for and cherished furnishings (exhibits?) therein. 

The account of Zaccheus in the gospel of Luke helps me think deeper about how available my home is and, more to the point how available I am personally to serve others. This short little man, with a name that was bigger than he was, climbed up into a tree so that he could see Jesus above the crowds that obscured Him as He passed by.

We read in Luke 19:5, "When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, 'Zaccheus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.'"

Oh my! In reading this, I can't help but wonder what Zaccheus’ house looked like when Jesus invited Himself over to stay there. My knee-jerk reaction would have been to panic, race home and try to get things in order. But what does the little tax collector do? Luke tells us, “So Zaccheus came down at once and welcomed Jesus gladly.” (Luke 19:6)

"So Zaccheus CAME DOWN..."! I would have been tempted to climb higher to get out of sight. But Zaccheus came down. In fact, the text continues to tell us, "So Zaccheus came down AT ONCE..."! He hurried down that tree. But that's not all, "So Zaccheus came down at once and WELCOMED JESUS..."! He didn't stress that Jesus was coming to stay at his home. It was quite the opposite. He welcomed Jesus and it wasn't just any halfhearted welcome. Not at all! Read his entire response to Jesus: "So Zaccheus came down at once and welcomed Jesus GLADLY"! Zaccheus was thrilled that Jesus had invited Himself to his house. Knowing that your house was a little messy, would you have responded so enthusiastically? Would I have?

At this point, I am thoroughly in awe of the dramatic, comprehensive and instantaneous heart change that the Spirit of God makes within this one who has been so enamored with and enslaved by money. Neither the Lord nor his fellow man was on Zaccheus’ radar until Jesus transformed him. Now he was all about Jesus instead, with his enthusiastic, joyful welcome to the Savior.

Should not this be my response, your response as well? If we are each a child of God, has He not transformed our hearts also? And when we welcome weary ones into our home, do we not likewise welcome the Lord Jesus in? 

At this point, there are so many challenging thoughts swirling through my mind. There is so much to explore and my heart needs a constant transforming tuneup. I want to explore this further so that I do not forget and so that I do practice the art and heart of hospitality in my place of fruitfulness and rest - in my home. 

In the next few weeks (God willing), I will be posting more about hospitality as it is practiced and commanded in the Bible. But for now, I have been so blessed to have shared with my neighbor the smallest, most humble room in my home, a room where she found rest in her weariness. Thank You, dear Savior, for this unforgettable opportunity! And thank You that when Estelle came for this short visit, You came with her and spoke to my heart.

Posted by Sharon Kaufman

The Art and Heart of Hospitality

on June 28, 2020 0 comments

Christ in My Kitchen

Today I offer a blessing for the kitchen. I found this poem on an old wall hanging at a thrift store. (Oh...the joys of thrifting!) I did edit it a little and added the last few verses. There was no name on the picture to identify its author.

But the poem reminds me why God has ordained the wonderful sphere of the home as the wife's occupation in life. What better place could we be? It is a heavenly and high calling. In the home, specifically the kitchen, godly women do the very work that God Himself has does. God feeds His people. We feed others. This is divine activity!

In the garden, God fed the man and woman He created; in fact, He created their food even before Adam and Eve were created. The LORD fed the children of Israel manna in the dessert. God kept the widow's jug of oil and jar of flour replenished for herself, her son and Elijah the prophet (1 Kings 17) during a time of famine.

During Jesus' earthly ministry He fed the multitudes (the first time there were 5000 men alone, not including women and children). On one of those occasions (John 6:1-14), Jesus used a young boy's five barley loaves and two small fish to feed upwards of 10,000 hungry people.

But besides physical food, God supplies His children with spiritual food. In the 23rd Psalm, our Shepherd leads us and feeds us (Psalm 23:1-2). Jesus told His followers, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst" (John 6:35).

Nourishing others with physical food from our kitchens opens to us the opportunity to nourish them spiritually as well - to introduce them to our dear Savior, the Bread of Life, who alone can satisfy the hungering soul. And that, my dear sisters, is what our kitchens are all about.

Feeding Others

Bless my little kitchen, Lord;

I love its every nook.

And bless me as I do my work,

Wash pots and pans and cook.

May the meals that I prepare
Be seasoned from above

With Your blessing and Your grace,

But most of all Your love.

As we partake of earthly food
The table You have spread,

We'll not forget to thank You, Lord

For all our daily bread.

Please bless my little kitchen, Lord

And those who enter here;

May they find Your joy and peace,

Through Christ the Savior dear.

For what I offer on each plate
Can only gratify

The temporary need one has -

T'will never satisfy.

But Jesus is the Bread of Life

It is the soul He feeds

He gives to every hungering heart

Himself, to meet the need.

"She rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household and portions for her maidens." (Proverbs 31:15)

"I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst". (John 6:35)

Posted by Sharon Kaufman

Christ in My Kitchen

on September 23, 2010 1 comments

Aprons for My Girls

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For Christmas, I made aprons for my granddaughters. From left to right: Melissa, Courtney, Isabella and Joy.

Several years ago I also made aprons for my daughters, out of a surplus of pink and white ticking I had on hand. With so much of that fabric leftover even after making my daughters' aprons, I went ahead and made aprons for my four granddaughters for this Christmas. Each one had a different companion print for pockets and trim that complimented the pink and white ticking, as you can see in the photo. I choose those prints according to the girls favorite colors and personalities.

They looked so cute all lined up ready to bake. The photo just does not do the girls justice. Well, being a somewhat partial grandmother, I don't think there ever could be a photo that did capture their charm and character.

Anyway, a friend of mine recently sent me a little blurb about aprons. I also wrote a poem about the lowly apron when I gave my daughters theirs. I offer these two pieces below. First the salute to aprons from my friend. Thanks Jann!

The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, because she only had a few and it was easier to wash aprons than dresses. Aprons used less material also.

But along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven. It was wonderful for drying childrens' tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.

When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids. And when the weather was cold Grandma wrapped it around her arms. Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.

Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron. From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls. In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds. When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men folks knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that 'old-time apron' that served so many purposes. They would go crazy now trying to figure out how many germs were on that apron. I never caught anything from an apron but love!!!!!

 And now for the poem I gave to my daughters along with their aprons:

 The Humble Apron

I wear my apron – it’s a friend,
To help me cook and clean and tend.
It takes the brunt of splats and stains
And saves my clothes from laundry pains.
It helps me sense my duty clear,
To cook and clean for loved ones dear.

Yes, in my apron I become
A servant to the ones I love.
Yet under all the apron’s stains
My clothing bright and clean remains.
Then when removed it hangs unseen,
And I am crowned the household queen.

 SKK

Hail to the humble, protective and useful apron! Melissa, Courtney, Isabella and Joy...may you wear your aprons in good health and good heart. 

Posted by Sharon Kaufman

Aprons for My Girls

on January 18, 2010 6 comments