On Being a Guest

The whole concept of “being a guest” is a fairly big part of our life. As we walked through our home in Indianapolis one last time, one of the things that we remembered most fondly were the many guests we had had in that home for fellowship and meals over the years. One of the main reasons we bought our Grand Rapids home was to be able to capably house overnight guests. We’ve hosted a lot of people in GR already and I’m certain that we’ll continue to do so.

I am also frequently a guest in people’s homes worldwide. While I love this, it can also be a bit overwhelming at times. Sometimes it is overwhelming in the sense that I feel guilty for “special guest” treatment—being given the only room with an air condition in tropical Africa, being given a room to myself in Eastern Europe while seven children share a room, the feeling of disrupting a family’s normal routine and home comfort. Sometimes it is linguistically awkward. Sometimes it is just difficult to figure things out. Figuring out bathrooms can be especially tricky, from teeny-tiny toilets in Indonesia to bidets in the French-speaking world. There is always the fear of making some horrific cultural blunder. I’ve probably made a few in my time, but my hosts are gracious.

Staying in a home, as I’ve done the past few days here in Senegal, gives you a unique perspective into the culture and life of the place. I’ve enjoyed watching the teenage daughters of this family. The afternoon heat usually finds them reclining on sheets on the tile floor, resting and chatting. The kitchen fills with giggles after dinner every night as they roll out a mat and take their food from a common bowl there. The six or seven-year-old nephew keeps the water buckets filled throughout the day and is always quick to bring me or his aunty or uncle a chair when we sit outside. One of the girls seems to be charged with tending the front gate when visitors arrive. This is also an African pastor’s home, so other people come and go through the day, greeting the foreign guest brightly in what for some is probably their few words of French.  

More than anything, the whole practice of hospitality weaves us together. It takes us out of our comfort zones, whether we be guest or host. It helps us understand one another just a bit more.