Yesterday marked 10 years since our moving truck arrived so we hosted a happy hour to toast our amazing neighbors who welcomed us so beautifully and who have been such an amazing community for us.
NEIGHBORLY HOSPITALITY
by Emily Huff
“There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
-Leonard Cohen
Tomorrow marks the 10-year anniversary of when our moving truck arrived to our home with our stuff when we moved to Seattle, and the story of how we landed here in our neighborhood speaks volumes of what I have learned about hospitality through the years.
As I look back at this, I am struck by how beautifully grace showed up on that particular day through our neighbors. One neighbor showed up that morning in our empty house and offered to pray with me before the day began, and she got snacks and drinks that day to keep people’s spirits up. Her husband made numerous calls to reach out and rally the neighborhood to pitch in when we realized that it was going to be a long day, and we had our first glimpse that he’s a mover and a shaker and the best advocate a neighbor could ask for. Four guys in the neighborhood were among the first of the burly men to show up and recruit even more muscles to chip in with hauling boxes and furniture. The college guys renting rooms in one of their houses whom we had never met before that day created a human chain to carry boxes into the house and were worth their weight in gold. Another family invited us over to their house that night for an unforgettable steak dinner and welcomed us around their table. We experienced John 1:14 in living color that day: “The word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one of a kind glory- like Father, like Son– GENEROUS INSIDE AND OUT— true from start to finish.”
I was in a fragile place that day- exhausted from the move itself and emotionally raw from leaving beloved grandparents and dear friends behind. And I was just plain done from the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day that we had had, but the way our new neighbors showed up felt like a scene out of Les Mis when Jean Val Jean is given the silver candlesticks from the priest. We did not deserve this grace, but we were experiencing God’s lavish gifts through our neighbors, and it was all I could do to not dissolve into a puddle of tears with gratitude.
A friend of ours who was a professor of English and cinema studies sent us this response after we relayed what had happened. “What a story! It’s a cautionary tale about choosing moving companies, but it’s also an IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE ending, isn’t it? Potter may still have the $8,000, but he’s alone on Christmas Eve. So thankful for all those near and far who have helped to make this side of the story WONDERFUL!”
Another friend emailed me that following week these words that I now have displayed in our kitchen symbolically in one of the frames that was broken in our move: “In the coming days, as you discover and rediscover the brokenness of life, may you be reminded of His perfecting work. May your heart continually turn to Him to be repaired and healed, and may His glory shine through.”
I was pinching myself in those early days in the neighborhood recognizing that we had landed a community that gathers around broken pieces and works together to bring healing and restoration. While I felt fragile and was literally piecing our stuff back together, I resonated deeply with these words from Ted Loder: “What can I believe, except what Jesus taught: that only what is first broken, like bread, can be shared; that only what is broken, is open to your entry; that old wineskins must be ripped open and replaced if the wine of new life is to expand.”
We experienced hospitality in a way I had not seen it lived out in a neighborhood quite like this before. I remember an article in a Young Life magazine years ago talking about Young Life leaders being “Jesus with skin on,” and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that we encountered the living Christ that day as we were welcomed so beautifully.
One year my neighbor Annie sent out holiday cards that said, “Loved people love people.” As we experienced such grace and hospitality, we then could settle in and begin to welcome others into the community who came after us. “Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand – shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16.
Heidi Haverkamp writes about Benedictine hospitality and I think it relates to our neighborhood as well:
I am grateful for the way I have met Jesus in profound ways here in our neighborhood over the last 10 years as He has shown us His love through our neighbors time and time again. And, I am grateful for these people with whom I share the journey that we get to keep pointing each other to the light in the broken stories we carry together.
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