When Ordinary Becomes Holy
Hospitality isn’t something we must try to fit into our schedules; it is a practice that builds a culture in the home and in the heart. As we practice hospitality, we become more aware of God’s presence in our lives and more open to the people around us.
More often than not, we are too tired, too afraid, and too busy to open our hearts or our homes. I believe what often holds us back most is the idea that hosting people—and serving God—has to look like our neighbor’s, or that it must be polished to perfection for it to matter. Let’s consider it from another point of view. Imagine entering a grand hall where fine china shines beneath candlelight and servants carry out course after course of exquisite food. Yet the hostess never meets your eyes. She barely notices you’re there and is too busy to connect. You leave feeling unseen, wondering why you came in the first place. It isn’t the meal or the presentation alone that makes an evening meaningful. It’s the heart of the person behind the hosting that does.
One of the Bible’s most compelling stories of hospitality is found in Genesis 18. “The Lord appeared to him by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the door of his tent in the heat of the day” (Genesis 18:1, ESV). The passage unfolds: three visitors stand before Abraham. Without hesitation, he runs to meet them and bows low to the ground. He urges them to rest beneath the tree. He offers water to wash dust-worn feet. Sarah kneads some of their best flour into bread. Their best calf is prepared. Abraham ran, hurried, hastened—each movement intentionally made with a heart to serve and to be generous.
There is something we often overlook in Scripture. This encounter comes immediately after Abraham’s circumcision (Genesis 17, ESV). Rabbinic tradition has long noted the physical vulnerability he likely still carried. Abraham could have had excuses, but he chose to serve instead. He did not feel pressured to; he desired to respond. And his hospitality becomes the very space where covenant promise unfolds; the promise of Isaac is reaffirmed at the table (Genesis 18:9–10, ESV).
Hosting in today’s world often takes a backseat. But I believe God calls us to live out a rhythm of hospitality in our everyday lives. For me, it has looked like turning my attention to God while washing dishes instead of thinking about what I need to do next. It has meant using the afternoon quiet hour for my children as my own quiet time with God—instead of scrolling, cleaning, or checking something off my list, I fight the temptation to “do” and instead return to the place of “being” with my Heavenly Father. It has meant kneading a loaf of bread for my neighbor after preparing one for my own family, or inviting someone new to dinner simply to get to know their story.
All of these are acts of hospitality, whether big or small. Each one costs us something—our time, energy, and space. Each one draws us closer to Jesus and closer to one another.
Reflection
Where in your daily rhythms might God already be inviting you to make room?
What expectations of “perfect hospitality” might you need to release?
With a whole lot of love and grace,
Jessica Tobler
Our downfall as the church
Our problem, as it often has been, is that we stop at the “salvation prayer,” and we don’t teach people how to move forward after that—or we don’t know how ourselves.
I remember running down the aisle in an old church at the age of 10 because I felt the presence of God calling me to Him. I knew deep down in my soul that He was the One I was born for, and yet I was met with a pat on the head and a “good job.” Deep within me, I felt sad and whispered under my breath, “Is that it?” As a child, I knew there was more. But why didn’t they tell me? Where was the discipleship?
Today, I witness this as a major problem still in the body of Christ. We do not know how to know Him, and therefore, we don’t show others how. Or we assume they already know, so we say nothing. But the epidemic in our world today is that we are an orphaned people. We do not know our Father; therefore, we are not about our Father’s business. So what must we do?
We are invited into the greatest love story of all time. The God of the universe sent His one and only Son to die on the cross for our sins so that we could be free and so that we could be restored to connection with the Father. We get that He died for us to be free, but we’ve missed the fact that this freedom was to restore us to the Father—not so we could do whatever we wanted with our precious freedom.
Take a look at this Scripture with me:
“You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh[a]; rather, serve one anotherhumbly in love. 14 For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”[b] 15 If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.
16 So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. 17 For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever[c] you want.”-Galatians 5:13-17 NIV (Bible Gateway)
So let’s start here. What does it mean to live close to God? Subscribe to my blog and follow along this journey of unpacking what it means to know the Father and make Him known.
the start of something new (or is it?)
It’s been a long time coming—writing here, sharing with you. I’ve waited so long to pursue this dream of writing and sharing God with you, consistently. And in many ways, I have over the years. And stopped. And started. And stopped. And started. So many seasons, so many letdowns and unknowns. For a long time, I felt my soul give up under the weight of trying to make all of these promises God has given me, in my writing and speaking, happen on their own.
Recently, someone from small group asked me, “Are you glad it didn’t all happen when you tried to make it happen?” To which I replied, “Yes, I am. Because if I had made these promises happen in my own strength, I would have had to sustain them in my own strength. But now that I’ve fully released this over to God, He will be the one to sustain me, and I don’t have to worry.”
Isn’t that the point? To let God build with us and through us, so that when hard comes, He will sustain us.
So, as I begin again—this time fully releasing it to the One who made me—I want to encourage you. Is there anything you’ve given up on that God has called you to do with Him, for His glory? Maybe it feels too far or too weighty because you haven’t released the heavy lifting to Him yet. Whatever it may be, hand it over to Him and allow God to re-inspire you and cause you to come alive again to the things He created you for.
After all, we need the piece of God that you carry so that we can all grow into the knowledge of God together.
Love,
Jessica