Whiffleball season has begun at the Demi Compound (as Kimm Harvey affectionately calls our home). Already three big dirt spots have appeared replacing the once green areas that were sown last fall. I'm gearing up for the onslaught of neighborhood kids who will take over our yard in the coming months. How does one prepare for such an invasion?
About 17 years ago I read a book by Karen Mains which changed my perspective on hospitality – especially in showing hospitality to kids. In the book she told a simple story about carrying a load of laundry down the steps. As she nudged her away around her daughter and her friend who were seated on the stairs, she heard her daughter's friend say, "I love to come to your house. Your mother doesn't yell all the time the way my mother does." She also shared about how, when in high school, her girlfriend said to her, "Does your mother always sing around the house like that – like I heard her singing when we were talking on the phone yesterday?" When Karen answered that she did, her girlfriend looked at her with envy and said, "You're so lucky!"
After reading those stores, so many years ago, God began planting the desire in my heart to cultivate a home where even kids would be welcomed - that they would experience something different - the love of Christ.
I know that it's a miracle of grace which causes me to love having the house where the neighbor kids hang out. The Holy Spirit helps me to think when the kids are outside making bare spots in our grass, coming in for drinks or using our bathroom (when their own houses are only yards away) that we may be the only Christian family that they will ever see. With that in mind, I want to represent Christ to them. I want them in my home to see how Jeff and I interact, to hear the music that we have playing, to smell a home-baked meal, to overhear our conversations, or even occasionally… my singing.
Thanks to the intentional leadership of my husband, our kids are aware that they should be looking for opportunities to share the gospel with these unsaved friends. We pray for our neighbors together as a family. And, through our relationship with these kids, we're developing relationships with their parents. We don't think that where we live is an accident or that our home is ours but that it's God's instrument to be used as He desires.
Yes, there is a cost to this type of hospitality… handprints on the walls, cups outside on the porch, popsicle wrappers in the yard, fingerprints on the sliding glass doors. But, by faith I'm believing that just maybe God will use the experience that they had in our home to draw them to Himself. Compared to that hope, I can live with a few dirt spots in our lawn.
