Low-Pressure Hospitality: Open Your Home Without Losing Your Mind
There was a Lego under the couch cushion and I found it with my elbow while I was trying to find a comfortable place to sit. I'd invited a friend from church over for coffee and spent the morning wiping counters and shoving laundry into closets. The house still looked like a house with four children lived in it. I almost cancelled three times.
I didn't cancel, and I'm glad I didn't. The door opened and we sat on the couch with mismatched mugs, and she didn't look at the dust on the baseboards. She looked at me, told me about her week. Somewhere in there I realized I'd wasted the whole morning worrying about the wrong thing.
I almost didn't write this, but it turns out I keep coming back to the same question. Why is it so hard to open the door when you live in an actual home?
How to Be Hospitable with a Messy House
The honest version is that I spent years thinking hospitality meant a clean house and a planned menu and table settings that matched. I'd see pictures online of perfectly styled gatherings and I'd close the browser and look around my kitchen and decide we just weren't the kind of family who could have people over.
I'm not sure when I started to change my mind about all this. Maybe it was the morning my toddler dumped a box of crackers on the floor right before someone knocked at the door. I stepped over the crackers and opened the door anyway, and the person on the other side was a neighbor who'd just had a hard week. She didn't even glance at the floor. She sat down at my scratched kitchen table and started crying.
I think about that morning a lot. The crackers were still there when she left.
"And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." (Matthew 25:40)
I've started keeping that verse in my head when I feel the urge to clean before anyone comes over. The person on my doorstep isn't coming to inspect my home. They're coming because they need connection. The ministry of the unprepared home is still a ministry.
LDS Perspective on Opening Your Home to Others
Growing up in the church, I heard a lot about gathering. Gathering Israel, gathering for worship, gathering as families. But nobody talked much about the gathering that happens in your own living room with a bag of chips and a pot of tea.
I remember reading about the Savior ministering in homes, at tables, on hillsides wherever people happened to be. He didn't wait for the venue to be perfect. He showed up where people were and met them there. I think opening our homes works the same way. The welcome matters more than the setting.
David built a table for our kitchen a few years ago. He's an engineer and the wood shop is his place. The table has scratches from homework and crayon marks and a ring from a hot pot someone set down without a trivet. I used to feel embarrassed about those marks. Now I see them as evidence that the table gets used the way a table should.
I wrote a little more about this in Sacred Art of Hospitality: From Perfect Home to Genuine Welcome if you want to read more. The short version is that the table doesn't need to be perfect for someone to feel loved at it.
Simple Hospitality Ideas for Busy Mothers
I've learned a few things over the years about keeping hospitality simple enough that I actually do it instead of just thinking about it.
The first is that I stopped cooking elaborate meals. Now I keep things I can put on a plate in five minutes. Cheese and crackers, fruit, a bowl of popcorn, a pot of tea. People don't actually care if you made the bread from scratch. They care that you made a place for them.
The second is that I set a minimum acceptable threshold for the house. The table needs to be cleared and the bathroom needs to be clean. Everything else can wait. If I wait until every room is perfect, nobody ever comes over.
I wrote about the rhythm of gathering in Ministry of the Unprepared Home: Holiness in Parenting's Mess too. The people who love you will love you whether the dishes are done or not.
Overcoming Anxiety About Hosting Guests
I still get nervous before someone comes over. I'm not sure that ever fully goes away. But I've stopped letting the anxiety be the thing that decides whether I open the door.
I try to remember this on the nervous days, when the anxiety is about me and whether I look good, whether my house looks good, whether someone will judge me. But hospitality isn't about me and I have to keep reminding myself that it's about the person on the other side of the door. When I shift my attention from my own nervousness to their need for welcome, the anxiety quiets down.
I don't know if this will make sense yet, but I think the door is easier to open when you stop trying to impress and start trying to love.
Teaching Children Hospitality in the Home
My children are learning hospitality whether I plan it or not. They see me open the door and they see me panic about the state of the kitchen. They see both parts.
I've started asking them to help when someone comes over. My second-grader likes to offer people a drink. My middle-schooler will show a guest where to sit. Even the toddler gets involved by bringing someone her favorite book.
I want them to grow up knowing that their home is a place where people are welcome. Not a place that has to be perfect before someone can walk through the door. A place where the love is real even when the house is not.
Frequently Asked Questions
How do I handle the feeling that my house isn't clean enough for guests?
Set a good enough threshold like a clear table and a clean bathroom and then stop. The people coming to see you are not coming to inspect your baseboards. They are coming because they want to be near you. Your welcome matters far more than your decor.
What are some low-stress meal ideas for impromptu hospitality?
Keep things you can assemble in five minutes. Cheese and crackers, fruit, a bowl of popcorn, a pot of tea. The point is not to impress anyone with your cooking skills. The point is to share a moment together and that works just as well with a simple snack.
How can I involve my children in hospitality without it becoming a struggle?
Give them one specific job like helping a guest find a seat or bringing them a glass of water. Frame it as a way to show love to someone else and let them see that a little bit of mess is okay when the goal is making someone feel welcome.
I still find Legos under the couch cushions. I still shove laundry into closets before someone knocks. But I open the door more than I used to and I think that's the part that matters.
with love, Melissa