A reflection on hosting families Interfaith Hospitality Network
by Susanna Lambert
I have done evening meal hosting before, but this was my
first time as an overnight host. This role involved simpler logistics,
less interaction and fewer responsibilities than I had imagined. (And the
room was pleasantly warmer than I'd imagined, too.) However, the
experience offered me a more humbling perspective.
First,
observing these families ushering their children through bedtime routines made
their situation more real to me than ever. Second, keeping the same hours
they keep was a deeper experience than sharing a meal in Whitford Hall. I felt
more like their guest up there, since it serves as their most private space for
the week and I was a newcomer. Third, sleeping under God's roof
with these families was a timely reminder about our sameness in His eyes.
Being in service to these less fortunate brothers and sisters of Christ
grounded, humbled and refreshed me.
Before becoming involved in IHN, these families' presence at our church was ghost-like to me; I knew they were there for that week, but the reality escaped me. If you have never participated in this ministry, please consider it. This important work will fortify your connection with our congregation, our city, and our faith.
Before becoming involved in IHN, these families' presence at our church was ghost-like to me; I knew they were there for that week, but the reality escaped me. If you have never participated in this ministry, please consider it. This important work will fortify your connection with our congregation, our city, and our faith.
ReplyDelete“It is often the last key on the ring which opens the door”
Another reflection on Interfaith Hospitality Network
John Legge
I appreciate Susanna’s reflection, but who could blame me for being reluctant to share my story, after she all but said that hosting overnight with IHN is pretty darned easy. I stayed last Wednesday night and things started off with a good evening. The guests, as usual, were interesting and engaging, the kids adorable. I’m always amazed at the grace and steadfastness the IHN guests possess. I also had a chance to catch up with good friend Robin Langford, a cohost for the night. I have many happy memories of opportunities to get to know fellow church members during IHN, chatting as we hung out in the kitchen. In addition to catching up on our children’s activities, I shared with Robin that the following day was a big one for me at work, since I was leading an important meeting and presentation.
The IHN families started waking at 4:30 the following morning. I told Robin that if we left church by 5:30, I could drive the van to the IHN house and still have enough time to get to work for my big presentation. A cold front blew through during the night and it was blustery and chilly, but we left on time, kids bundled up, car seats and snacks in tow. When we arrived at the house, I exited the van in order to help carry a few belongings into the house. I’d left the side door of the van open, but darned if a gust of wind didn’t blow it shut before I made it back to the van. It was about at this point that I felt a shiver pass through me, and it wasn’t related to the cold night air. When the van door blew shut, the doors had locked! With the keys in the van! And the engine running!
It was dark. It was cold. Some really choice words went through my mind. Ones like &%#@! How was I going to get in the van? What about my important meeting? Why me? I immediately experienced a profound sense of deflation. My first brilliant idea was to circle the van, jerking all the door handles. Lacking success, I circled again, pushing and pulling all the windows. Meeting failure again, I made one last pass, trying the house keys I had in my pocket in the door locks. Needless to say, I remained outside, engine still running. My next course of action was to call and roust poor Roger Loyd out of bed. Being the good natured saint that he is, Roger patiently began to problem solve the situation with me. I’m sure he could sense my frustration building, and once I told him about my important meeting, he volunteered to head over to the IHN house to relieve the situation. I returned to the still running van and decided to make one last van-jacking attempt, using my little Swiss army knife as a makeshift key. And it worked. Roger didn’t have to come after all. I was able to return the van to the church, go to work, and have my important meeting.
That night, I reflected on my ordeal and experienced one of those epiphany moments. One should not leave keys in vehicles while the engine is running! But I also couldn’t help but compare what happened with the experiences of the IHN families I had met that day. I imagined that they’ve had an awful lot of experiences of being locked out, feeling profound helplessness and frustration. What had been a really bad half hour for me paled against the hardships they’ve endured. And how would I feel if those helpless experiences included my children, too? Truly a slap in the face kind of humbling moment. I was grateful for the gifts bestowed on me, for the IHN program and for our church. I was glad to know I have people I can call. Thankful that once again, my mistakes had been washed away. And I wondered if what had been important that day was not my meeting after all.