Friends for Dinner

For the first time in over a year, we entertained INSIDE the house! We have gathered friends and family on the patio periodically, but remember, I live in Minnesota, so winter weather has greatly limited that ability.

Now that we have had both vaccinations and are in the "safe" zone, as are many of our friends, we are beginning to open our home, and we invited two friends for dinner on Good Friday.

I laughed at myself and wondered if I would know how to set the table, for Bruce and I have our dinner each evening on tv trays while watching the PBS News Hour. Meal time has been casual, to say the least. My sister teased me, saying I could Google how to set a table if I had forgotten on which sides of the plate to place the flatware. 

Like riding a bike, however, I remembered how to do it, and I delighted in the process. I love setting the table not only because we have a variety of pretty dishes, but as I prepare the table, I open my heart to the guests who will enter the door. And after such a long time of not opening the door, of no one crossing the threshold, I was so eager to share our space, or food, our love.

During the day, as I chopped and sautéed and simmered, I glanced at the waiting table with its tulips, candles, white Damask napkins, blue and white Danish dishes and my mother's flatware, and I remembered other times of gathering with friends or family. The insightful conversation. The warm laughter. The increased connections. Oh, how I have missed that! 

And it was good. I fixed risotto with peas and a delicious green salad with celery seed dressing. Our friends brought a yummy trifle with strawberries and blueberries and even left some for us to enjoy the next day. Don't you wish you had been there?

Now here is a confession. Good Friday is a solemn night--a time of lamentation, and we invited our friends to watch our church's service on Youtube with us and then we would have dinner. Well, we were not very solemn. Instead, we were almost giddy with our eagerness to be together. As we hugged, we seemed to have moved into Easter's rejoicing. I trust we were forgiven.

Our routine after our guests have left is to do a complete clean-up. Bruce is in charge of filling the dishwasher, and doing the additional hand washing. I return the table to its previous look, wipe, and put away the dishes. We are a good team. And as we do that, we review the evening's conversation, which feels like an additional blessing. 

The next morning when I got up and walked through the house, I sensed a different energy in each of the rooms. It was if the house remembered one of its main purposes--to be a place of love and welcome. 

I can't wait to do it again. 

An Invitation
Have you entertained recently? How did that feel? I would love to know. 

 

A Welcoming Heart: Tuesday's Reflection

                      You are all welcome here today:
            In all the beauty of languages, cultures, skin tones and 
            size that come together in your uniqueness, 
                       you are welcome here.
            In all the ways you experience and express gender,
                      you are welcome here.
           In the beauty that is who you love and how you love,
                      you are welcome here.
           Muslim, Pagan, Humanist, Jew, Christian, Buddhist...
           with all the traditions that inform your spiritual life, 
                      you are welcome here.
           No matter how long you've been away,
           nor how soon you will return, 
                     you are welcome here.
          Whether you come feeling whole, broken, or anywhere 
           in-between, 
                     you are welcome here.
          You are invited to join us with an open mind, a loving 
          heart and willing hands. 
                     We welcome you today. 

A friend who lives in Boulder sent me these opening words from the morning service at her congregation, Boulder Valley Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. Aren't they wonderful? I would feel welcome there, and I hope you would, too.

I invite you to make these words yours. 

                      You are welcome in my heart.
                      You are welcome in my community.
                      You are welcome 
                                     where I work,
                                     where I play,
                                     where I learn,
                                     where I live,
                                     where I worship.
                      You are welcome 
                                      in our differences,
                                      in the ways we are the same.
                      You are welcome.
            

An Invitation
How do you express welcome? I would love to know. 

NOTE: I often hear the question, "What can I do?" Here's a suggestion. Check out the website Americans of Conscience to receive a weekly email with clear, no drama scripts that empower you to speak up for:
                   * Expanding voting access
                   * Welcoming aspiring Americans
                   * Achieving equal rights for all Americans

Gatherings at the Little House: Thursday's Reflection

During the last few days our home has been filled with Spirit. The

Spirit of laughter and new friendships. The Spirit of connection. The Spirit of response to our true callings and essence. The Spirit of blessing as one leaves our midst, but remains in our hearts. 

Most days our Little House is quiet. True, I meet my spiritual direction clients here and the walls absorb our reflections. True, our grandson Peter sometimes is here after school, chatting about his day, teasing his Papa about this and that. And now with the windows open we hear the neighborhood children enjoying outside play, but inside our house we move through our days with quiet contentment, tending to our tasks and our pleasures. 

How good it has been these last few days to fill the house with lively conversation and a welcoming sense of community. Sunday evening ten of us gathered for an informal potluck supper, and Tuesday morning the women of Opening to Spirit, a monthly group I have led focused on spiritual practice, assembled to offer blessings to one of our participants before she leaves on a big adventure. And that afternoon the women in my writing group met, each one in our usual living room spot, as if huddled around a campfire, to share our latest efforts. 

 I loved preparing for each of these circles of Spirit. 

I welcomed each guest in my heart even before the doorbell rang or someone crossed the threshold. And I thought about the often-quoted verse, "Where ever two or more are gathered in My name, there I am with them." (Matthew 18:20)

                 As I lay the fork near the plate,
                 let me remember this is Your table, not mine.
                 As I set the water glasses down
                 and fold the napkins, let me be reminded
                 that every setting at this table
                 is Yours, not mine.

                 Each one who will partake of this meal
                 is a particular someone You love, a someone
                 You have made and whom You sustain.
                 In You nothing and no one is forgotten.
                 How vast and providential is the memory
                 with which You keep us all. 
                                            from "Setting the Table"
                                            Being Home, A Book of Meditations
                                            Gunilla Norris

The house has returned to quiet now, but the gifts of fellowship and communion remain. I feel nurtured and fed, even as we have offered food to others. I feel the Presence of Spirit. 

An Invitation
When do you feel Spirit's presence? I would love to know.