now that it's the rainy season again, i'm beginning to get it. there are patterns here, little seasons, they're just different. i will be able to find a rhythm.
yesterday an old woman came to the door selling baskets. she speaks not a drop of english and goes on and on speaking lugandan with out a care in the world that we don't understand each other. this is the third time she's come and every time i buy something from her. because she makes beautiful things and i like her and she's just trekked her old self up to my house with her goods so how can i not buy her mats and baskets.
when she came i was drinking a coffee and the kids were running around and mike was there and i was trying to figure out dinner- but i had a nudging- a stirring- to ask her to come in for a cup of tea. it wasn't a full thought- just that gentle inner suggestion- and i'm ashamed to say- i ignored it. i motioned with her about the basket and the price and needed to call florence to help me understand and i paid her and she left. i think the other unformed thoughts that were floating around inside me were about how i couldn't sit and talk with her anyway and how i wouldn't be able to conclude our visit so it might just go on and on.
that night our lenten reading was about hospitality. not in the tea party and crumpets way, but in the way of meeting each others needs- of generous reception. because so much of loving your neighbor is about this- welcoming, caring, receiving each other.
i love to entertain- to have dinner parties, to get to know people better, to share a meal, to enjoy good food and drink and conversation- but that's one small, tiny, easy part of hospitality. the heart of hospitality is about welcoming in the stranger, not the friend. it's about receiving the one with less, with need, who might be hungry, or thirsty or alone. it's about caring more for another person, than worrying about our stuff (because we don't fully trust them) or our time, or our agenda. it's about giving freely our ourselves, it's about generosity and invitation and peacemaking.
doh!
again, i should have listened to the stirring, the soft voice inside saying 'welcome her in'. because in the sharing of our lives with each other, gifts are given. those little gifts of story, or smile. when we sit together we are not alone, even if we don't speak the same language. we are two people having tea, two people trying, to people practicing gentleness, two people caring more about unity than our selves.
thankfully, i'm sure she'll be back with more beautiful treasures next month. and i will ask her to come and sit and have a cup of tea.
yesterday an old woman came to the door selling baskets. she speaks not a drop of english and goes on and on speaking lugandan with out a care in the world that we don't understand each other. this is the third time she's come and every time i buy something from her. because she makes beautiful things and i like her and she's just trekked her old self up to my house with her goods so how can i not buy her mats and baskets.
when she came i was drinking a coffee and the kids were running around and mike was there and i was trying to figure out dinner- but i had a nudging- a stirring- to ask her to come in for a cup of tea. it wasn't a full thought- just that gentle inner suggestion- and i'm ashamed to say- i ignored it. i motioned with her about the basket and the price and needed to call florence to help me understand and i paid her and she left. i think the other unformed thoughts that were floating around inside me were about how i couldn't sit and talk with her anyway and how i wouldn't be able to conclude our visit so it might just go on and on.
that night our lenten reading was about hospitality. not in the tea party and crumpets way, but in the way of meeting each others needs- of generous reception. because so much of loving your neighbor is about this- welcoming, caring, receiving each other.
i love to entertain- to have dinner parties, to get to know people better, to share a meal, to enjoy good food and drink and conversation- but that's one small, tiny, easy part of hospitality. the heart of hospitality is about welcoming in the stranger, not the friend. it's about receiving the one with less, with need, who might be hungry, or thirsty or alone. it's about caring more for another person, than worrying about our stuff (because we don't fully trust them) or our time, or our agenda. it's about giving freely our ourselves, it's about generosity and invitation and peacemaking.
doh!
again, i should have listened to the stirring, the soft voice inside saying 'welcome her in'. because in the sharing of our lives with each other, gifts are given. those little gifts of story, or smile. when we sit together we are not alone, even if we don't speak the same language. we are two people having tea, two people trying, to people practicing gentleness, two people caring more about unity than our selves.
thankfully, i'm sure she'll be back with more beautiful treasures next month. and i will ask her to come and sit and have a cup of tea.
1 comment:
You are so wise,
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