Open Porch Policy
As much as I tell myself that I like the idea of welcoming people into my home, sometimes I am simply overwhelmed by the reality of all the work that it would actually require to make that happen. Rebekah Lyons writes that “...the true power of connection takes place when we welcome others into our lives and spaces” (16). I agree with her, and yet for the most part, I shy away from the idea as well…
This chapter felt swollen with ideas that I valued and understood as important for a healthy life and rhythm but have found difficult to implement. My mom excelled at this invitation to bring people into our home and yard, though, as I think back to our childhood. We lived on a street that had lots of kids around the same ages as my brother, sister, and me. My mom began a Saturday afternoon habit of opening our yard to anybody who was around to play outdoor games: my favorite week was when we played capture the flag. What a joyous and memorable time we had getting to know these other kids in those ways. Later, my parents put in a pool in our backyard, and our favorite neighbors were often at our house enjoying that with us. Even now I see my former neighbor, Luke, at a restaurant or a daughter’s softball game, and our connection is instant and palpable - so familiar, even now more than 30 years later. We gravitate toward each other and easily ask about each other’s lives, and I am so thankful for all those hours I spent getting to know him.
So what holds me up? It sounds so easy when I think back to my mom extending that invitation to the neighborhood. Is it because it’s a different time period than we live in now when my children are growing up? In the 1980s, parents had less reservations about their children heading off on a bike ride or hanging out at a neighbor’s house than they do now. The world can have scary things in it, and we hear horror stories of things that can happen. Does this deter me? Do I feel people’s palpable lack of trust in humanity resonating in our world? I’d have to say that although there is some element of logic in this reasoning, that really isn’t the biggest answer to the “why not” question.
When I really start to analyze my hesitation, I find all sorts of reasons staring back at me! Part of me leans toward blaming the messy house or the lack of landscaping in our yard; another thought that crosses my mind is the expense of providing snacks or beverages. Then my thoughts turn to buying toys or equipment or planning activities, and I again allow myself to feel overwhelmed. I am absolutely certain that part of my mindset revolves around the possibility of rejection: what if nobody wants to come? But I think the truth - the central underlying factor in all this - is that I’m afraid: afraid to let people into the messiness of our existence and the uncertainty of “how will things go”. I feel convicted and guilty as I process this selfishness and this desire for control.
Someone once laughed at me when I was coaching basketball because I was really struggling to “go with the flow” when a particular person in my charge was not fitting into the pattern of how I felt things should be going. This particular player did not have her uniform on and didn’t even seem to know where all of its pieces were. I kept watching the clock on the game before ours ticking down and glancing at this young athlete and feeling stress. The friend who laughed at me threw another idiom at me - “Just roll with it!’ I genuinely did try to follow her advice, until I finally shrugged my shoulders in frustration and confessed, “I’m a square. I don’t roll!”
This may be part of the grappling in this scenario too, and I admit that my invitations aren’t as spontaneous as I wish that they were. However, in spite of all of this mental wrestling, I still do feel convicted and convinced that inviting people into our lives and homes is the right thing to do! May God grant me the courage to get past these obstacles and invite into my life the blessing of being a hostess.