Hospitality of the Heart: From Perfect Hosting to Genuine Belonging
The laundry was still in the basket when the doorbell rang. I had meant to fold it before anyone arrived but the toddler had other plans and the second-grader needed help with a spelling list and somewhere between the letter C and the letter K I lost track of time. So the laundry stayed in the basket on the good chair and I opened the door and welcomed my friend into a house that looked exactly like four people lived in it.
She sat down on the edge of the couch and I apologized for the mess before she could say hello. I pointed at the laundry and the toys on the floor and the dishes in the sink and she looked at me and said something I still think about. She said your house looks like a place where people actually live and that is exactly why I wanted to come over.
I almost didn't write this because it felt too small. But I have been sitting with the difference between hosting and hospitality and I think the laundry on the chair is part of it.
How to Make Guests Feel Welcome in a Messy Home
I used to think hospitality meant having the house clean and the snacks arranged and the table set like a magazine spread. I would spend the whole day before someone visited scrubbing and organizing and hiding the things that made my house look lived in. By the time the doorbell rang I was exhausted and short-tempered and not really present for the person I had invited over.
It took me a long time to realize that I was doing it backwards. I was so focused on how the house looked that I forgot to think about how the guest felt.
The Savior never once commented on the state of someone's home. He ate with Zacchaeus in a house full of tax collectors and sat with Martha while she worried about the serving and He told her that one thing was needful and it wasn't a clean kitchen. He cared about the person and He always cared about the person and the state of the house never mattered to Him.
And Jesus said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things. But one thing is needful (Luke 10:41-42).
I wrote about this in The Open Door: From Perfect Hosting to Heart Hospitality and the response was overwhelming. So many of you wrote to say the same thing. You want to invite people over but you feel like you need to have everything perfect first. You are waiting for a clean house that never comes.
Overcoming Perfectionism in LDS Home Life
There is a particular pressure in our community to have a certain kind of home. I feel it too. The expectation that our homes should be orderly and peaceful and ready for the Spirit at all times. And I believe in order. I believe the home should be a refuge. But I have started to wonder if our pursuit of order has become a barrier to the very thing we are trying to create.
If a guest walks into my house and sees a pile of laundry on the chair they might think I am behind on my chores. But they might also think I am a real person who has real life happening and that they are allowed to be a real person too. The mess signals safety. It says you don't have to pretend here.
I think about the homes in the scriptures where the most important moments happened. The upper room where the Savior instituted the sacrament was a borrowed space. The home of Mary and Martha was a place of grief and confusion and then resurrection. On the road to Emmaus the disciples found recognition over a simple meal in a stranger's home and none of those homes were perfect but they were open. I think about that when I worry about the state of my own house.
Creating a Sense of Belonging in the Home
Here is what I have learned after twelve years of opening my door to people. The most welcoming homes aren't the cleanest ones. They are the ones where the person opening the door looks genuinely happy to see you. Where they offer you a drink without apologizing for the state of the kitchen. Where they sit down with you instead of continuing to clean while you talk.
I try to practice this now. When someone comes over I let the laundry stay in the basket. I make tea and I sit down. I ask real questions and I listen to the answers. If the toddler interrupts I let her climb into the guest's lap. If the conversation gets interrupted by a school pickup I invite them to come back.
I wrote about this in Hospitality as a Spiritual Practice of Inclusion and the principle has held. Hospitality isn't about the event. It is about the person. It is about making someone feel like they belong in your space and in your life.
Spiritual Meaning of Hospitality in the Gospel
The word hospitality comes from the same root as hospital and hospice. Places of care and refuge. That is what our homes are meant to be. Not showrooms. Not stages. Sanctuaries where people can rest from the weight of their own lives for a little while.
I think about the widow of Zarephath who shared her last meal with a stranger. She didn't have a clean house or a full pantry. She had almost nothing. But she opened her door and God multiplied what she had. That is the pattern. We don't need to have everything together to be hospitable. We just need to be willing to share what we have.
The mental load of hosting is real and I don't want to pretend it is light. But I want to offer this. The people who remember your hospitality won't remember whether your floors were mopped. They will remember how you made them feel. They will remember that you saw them and welcomed them and let them be themselves in your home.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is the difference between hosting and hospitality?
Hosting is about the event. The food and the decor and the presentation. Hospitality is about the person and making someone feel seen and valued and like they truly belong in your space regardless of how the house looks.
How can I be hospitable if my home is chaotic with young children?
Embrace the chaos as a sign of a lived-in loving home. Other parents often feel more comfortable in a house with toys on the floor because it removes the pressure for them to be perfect too. Focus on the warmth of your welcome rather than the tidiness of the room.
Does the gospel require us to have a perfectly clean home for guests?
No. The gospel encourages order as a general principle but it doesn't demand perfectionism. The higher law is the law of love. Making a guest feel loved and accepted matters more than making sure every surface is dust-free.
What if I feel embarrassed about the state of my home?
You aren't alone. Most of us feel that way. Try inviting someone over anyway and notice what happens. More often than not they won't see the mess. They will see a friend who trusted them enough to let them in.
How can I make my home feel welcoming without spending money?
Hospitality doesn't require a budget. A cup of tea and a genuine welcome cost nothing. The most memorable hospitality I have received was a glass of water and a chair pulled out from the kitchen table. It was the attention that mattered not the presentation.
I put the kettle on after my friend left and I looked at the laundry still sitting on the good chair. I thought about what she said. A place where people actually live. I think that is what the gospel is asking us to create. Not a perfect home. A real one. A place where people can find rest and belonging and a warm drink and a chair that has room for them.
with love, Melissa