Company

You will agree that five inches of rain over a couple of days is more than the average camping family can handle. Now imagine being a parent alone with a nursing newborn and three other children…. No wonder I got the privilege of surprise company for three days at my lovely canyon home near Paradise.

Our routine was punctuated by the changes that come naturally when company arrives. We stay up late, play card games, emphasize mealtimes. I could do these things in my daily life, but don’t usually. I find this interesting enough to expect you to bear with me as I speculate...

I am almost always grateful for last-minute invasions of friends and family into my space and schedule. Company at an unexpected time helps me put a new rhythm in my life; redefine what I can accomplish and re-prioritize basic elements of life like good food and conversation. I am reminded that when I think of folks as guests to be received, I don’t mind the extra sacrifice of time to feed them well and catch up on their life. In contrast to this, I sometimes begrudge this same sacrifice when it concerns the people I live with daily.

Why is that? In my current arrangement, Jason and I pitch in together to make most dinners happen, yet they seem like such a chore some nights, rarely a celebration. Conversation becomes a ritualized exchange of information vs. the thing I find when guests arrive: a spacious place to talk about one’s life.

I need to be reminded that the daily tasks of cooking, cleaning, eating can overlap with the talk of hopes and fears, disappointments and dreams. I need to have that extra motivation to pick up all the clutter in the house and make a space for sitting, dancing, reading.

I am reminded of a day five years ago, when my daughter strutted to the kitchen one Saturday morning and announced, “I am the guest today!”

I could avoid the growth to be gained by pondering that statement, and gloat over the good way I treat my family, friends, and neighbors. Or I can use this” teachable memory” to say, “Are my children still wishing they could be the guest who visits me?”

It is a sobering thing to think about. Most days, I think I forget to greet them with all the love I carry for them daily. I want the chores done, and the bills paid. I want gratitude and appreciation. I suppose I want from my husband and kids the very thing that is so hard to extend to them sometimes: the gracious invitation to sit down and relax, and catch up on life. I want to know this: when do I get to be the guest?

I think the answer to my question is startlingly obvious now that I ask it. I get to be the guest when I’m willing. I live in a family of folks who love to play games, go outside, listen to music, or snuggle up in front of the T.V., so the invitation to do those things is offered to me almost daily. The problem is, I’m worried about the household falling apart if I stop managing it. It is as if I think people won’t eat or sleep or pick up their things if I stop arranging it. Not that there isn’t some truth in that statement....

I relax most when I’m alone, and when the house is empty. Then I know no messes can grow unsupervised, or then I know that I’m not getting in anyone’s way. I’m grateful for an empty house today, even though I’m missing my friend and her kids who came to live with us for three days. It's good to value alone time again, and be grateful for it.