Thank you for another wonderful article. I can’t remember which of your writings on hospitality it was that stirred in me several years ago the desire to invite people into my home - this Lent somehow became through God’s providence the Lent of hospitality for me. We started inviting over just a few of my husband’s friends in the evenings after dinner, because at the time I figured it was less embarrassing for the husbands to see my house than the wives, which seems pretty silly in hindsight. Then their wives and kids started coming too. Then we started having one family over for dinner here and there. On St. Patrick’s Day our tiny house had about 4 families here, every table and counter was covered in dishes to pass, and there were kids running around while adults drank Guinness. It was my first encounter in my adult life with the kind of thing you talked about here and it was so beautiful. Thank you for talking about how important community is. Starting to be unafraid to open my home to friends has been so life giving for my whole family.
I cried. I felt as if I were standing next to you in your kitchen watching all the stories you spoke about. I heard the laughter and watched you cry. I heard the children running and playing. Thank you for sharing such insight on a home filled with Gods love.
This is beautifully written. I'm just so curious- is 1800 sq ft really a small house in the US? I grew up with nine siblings in a 1750 sq ft house, and we considered it fairly large (in Canada) and I'm now raising my four children in a 1250 sq ft house (which is a little small, but housing is very expensive here). But we have people over whenever we can, because if we wait for the perfect space, we'd be waiting the rest of our lives, and I love cooking for people!
Not super small. But it was an old house and 1800 square feet in a 1915 home feels much smaller than 1800 square feet in a home built after the 1940s, because they used space so differently.
That's so true! Both the house I grew up in and the house I live in now were built in 1910 and the lack of closet space, and cramped kitchens are a real problem. But I still fall for a century home every time. Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, or maybe it's just what I'm used to, but I do like them so much more than more modern houses.
I can’t tell you how much I loved this. A leap of faith relocation brought us to a large empty house in the country, in a new state, which had stood empty because a family’s story had fractured. It has brought us so much joy to restore it, and raise our family in it, and bring faith and laughter back (and hilariously crazy Christmases). It eclipses the hard parts (like the rerouting of the dryer vent my husband had to do this weekend), and you’re right—having chickens is great! ;)
This was one of your best pieces of writing. Thank you for sharing your beautiful heart, and giving voice to the unspoken sentiments of many of ours as well. What a rich and beautiful and glorious life he has given you, through it all. And may His name continue to be praised in and through you, in this new house you are making a home. I strive to do the same here on a lonely hilltop Missouri farm that I am discerning daily how to build into a home.
Eloquent and thoughtful. I always default to the most local perception of the world as the place we can extract the most meaning and purpose and effect the most change. You have given me new and valuable insight into how I might approach forthcoming and dreaded house projects and and the attendant purging required for them.
Loved reading this:
It’s all part of the cosmic liturgy of redemption, allowing us and all that our love encompasses to be caught up into what C. S. Lewis described as “the Great Dance”—the perfect worship of God through life lived in perfect accord with His plans—which allows every creature in Heaven to look back on the whole of their life from the perspective of eternity and somehow cry out about every last beautiful, broken, heart-wrenching moment, “Blessed be He.”
Thank you for another wonderful article. I can’t remember which of your writings on hospitality it was that stirred in me several years ago the desire to invite people into my home - this Lent somehow became through God’s providence the Lent of hospitality for me. We started inviting over just a few of my husband’s friends in the evenings after dinner, because at the time I figured it was less embarrassing for the husbands to see my house than the wives, which seems pretty silly in hindsight. Then their wives and kids started coming too. Then we started having one family over for dinner here and there. On St. Patrick’s Day our tiny house had about 4 families here, every table and counter was covered in dishes to pass, and there were kids running around while adults drank Guinness. It was my first encounter in my adult life with the kind of thing you talked about here and it was so beautiful. Thank you for talking about how important community is. Starting to be unafraid to open my home to friends has been so life giving for my whole family.
I cried. I felt as if I were standing next to you in your kitchen watching all the stories you spoke about. I heard the laughter and watched you cry. I heard the children running and playing. Thank you for sharing such insight on a home filled with Gods love.
This is beautifully written. I'm just so curious- is 1800 sq ft really a small house in the US? I grew up with nine siblings in a 1750 sq ft house, and we considered it fairly large (in Canada) and I'm now raising my four children in a 1250 sq ft house (which is a little small, but housing is very expensive here). But we have people over whenever we can, because if we wait for the perfect space, we'd be waiting the rest of our lives, and I love cooking for people!
Not super small. But it was an old house and 1800 square feet in a 1915 home feels much smaller than 1800 square feet in a home built after the 1940s, because they used space so differently.
That's so true! Both the house I grew up in and the house I live in now were built in 1910 and the lack of closet space, and cramped kitchens are a real problem. But I still fall for a century home every time. Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, or maybe it's just what I'm used to, but I do like them so much more than more modern houses.
I can’t tell you how much I loved this. A leap of faith relocation brought us to a large empty house in the country, in a new state, which had stood empty because a family’s story had fractured. It has brought us so much joy to restore it, and raise our family in it, and bring faith and laughter back (and hilariously crazy Christmases). It eclipses the hard parts (like the rerouting of the dryer vent my husband had to do this weekend), and you’re right—having chickens is great! ;)
This was one of your best pieces of writing. Thank you for sharing your beautiful heart, and giving voice to the unspoken sentiments of many of ours as well. What a rich and beautiful and glorious life he has given you, through it all. And may His name continue to be praised in and through you, in this new house you are making a home. I strive to do the same here on a lonely hilltop Missouri farm that I am discerning daily how to build into a home.
This piece was particularly beautiful, Emily. Thank you, as always, for this work that you share with us
Eloquent and thoughtful. I always default to the most local perception of the world as the place we can extract the most meaning and purpose and effect the most change. You have given me new and valuable insight into how I might approach forthcoming and dreaded house projects and and the attendant purging required for them.
Loved reading this:
It’s all part of the cosmic liturgy of redemption, allowing us and all that our love encompasses to be caught up into what C. S. Lewis described as “the Great Dance”—the perfect worship of God through life lived in perfect accord with His plans—which allows every creature in Heaven to look back on the whole of their life from the perspective of eternity and somehow cry out about every last beautiful, broken, heart-wrenching moment, “Blessed be He.”