Four Steps to Extending and Enjoying Hospitality by Leslie Verner

I have loved to have people in my home for years. One of my favorite gatherings back in my single days was a creative party. To come you needed to create: food to share, a song to sing, a picture you painted, a poem to read….Those who came with no creative offering were grouped, given a bag of props and asked to do a skit using every prop. This soiree took little effort, was lots of fun and helped us connect with each other.

That’s what Leslie Verner encourages in her new book, Invited: The Power of Hospitality in an Age of Loneliness. Extending hospitality can be easier than you think and more engaging than you imagined. I have invited Leslie to offer some practical helps.

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Since writing a book called Invited: The Power of Hospitality in an Age of Loneliness, I’ve noticed many people have a nearly visceral reaction to the word “hospitality.” They either “love” it, or they are already skittering to the streets as they try to outrun the negative connotations.

But what if we re-thought hospitality? Redefined it, even? What if it was just a bit simpler and easier to swallow? Here are a few ideas anyone can tackle in attempting to practice more hospitality:

1. Stop.

“Sorry, I’m too busy/have too much going on/already have plans …” are common refrains in American society. One way to show hospitality is to seek to stop the busyness and frantic living. When we say no to another lesson, sport, or activity for our kids or ourselves, we reserve time in our lives for spontaneous hospitality and unplanned connection with people.

What happens when we step into slowness and retain a buffer in our schedules reserved for relationship, rest, and wonder? We begin to notice the living, breathing souls right around us. We have time for them. We may even get to know their names, feel known, and start to feel less lonely ourselves.

2. Start

It’s easier for me to offer hospitality than to receive hospitality from others. As we risk the discomfort of giving up control, we learn the humility necessary for relationships to start. Has someone asked you into their life recently? What did you say?

When we refuse busyness, we’ll have more opportunities to start pausing on the sidewalk to chat with a neighbor. We might have more energy to invite someone over spontaneously or ask someone to meet us at a park or outdoor concert. Clearing away the extraneous clutter in our lives leaves space for us to say yes when God nudges us to ask, invite, or welcome outside our comfort levels.

3. Smile

I stumbled on an article recently meant for hotel staff, but have begun to apply it to my own life. It describes the “10 and 5 Staff Rule.” The rule goes like this: If you pass within ten feet of someone, called the “zone of hospitality,” you make eye contact and “warmly smile” at a person. When you are within five feet of them, this smile is accompanied by a greeting or some kind of gesture of acknowledgment.

While it seems obvious (and visits to the south prove the regional nature of the head nod, steering-wheel-finger-wave, and vocal greeting), I’ve started doing this here in Colorado. Mostly, I greet the people I pass on my runs. I often think to myself, What if I’m the only person who smiles at them or acknowledges them all day long? Some days, hospitality looks like a simple smile and a head nod to a stranger.

4. Step Out

Admittedly, mustering up the nerve to put ourselves out there and risk rejection is one of the hardest parts of hospitality. But the truth is that it takes very little effort on our part to send a text to someone we’ve been wanting to get to know. We pull out our phones, swipe to our text messaging app, and tap out: “Hey! Can you come over sometime?” And then we worry about the details when “sometime” comes around.

This article was originally published here.   

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Leslie Verner is the author of Invited: The Power of Hospitality in an Age of Loneliness (Herald Press). She traveled widely and spent five years in China before returning to the U.S. to marry an actor in Chicago. A former middle school teacher with a masters in intercultural studies, she now writes before dawn and reads too many books at once. She, her husband, and their three small children live in northern Colorado. Leslie writes about faith, justice, and cross-cultural issues at www.scrapingraisins.com, in her monthly newsletter, and elsewhere on the web. Follow her on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.