a guest in my own home

Shortly after we got to Michigan, my extended family started arriving for a week of reunion.  As happens at large gatherings these days, by the end of the week five people had tested positive for Covid.  One of those was my husband.  I ended up moving into the upstairs guest room for over a week, so that his lingering cough would not keep me awake at night. 

The upstairs in our summer place is the domain of my son and his family.  I’ve tried to give them  some agency in how it is arranged.  One day the whole cottage will be theirs, but in the meantime, I want them to feel that this is their home.  They can redecorate, and if I have any ideas of my own, I always consult them.  Last year we redesigned a bathroom together.  But I left all the finishing touches to Kimberly and Court.  Therefore, when I moved to the upstairs guest room, I tried to behave as a guest in their home.

I’ve heard a story (it may be apocryphal) that one of the First Ladies used to sleep in every White House bedroom, just to see if each room was physically equipped with everything a guest would need:  waste basket, tissues, etc.  My stay in the guest room taught me less about the physical needs of the room than it did about how to be a good guest.

First of all, I had to share a bathroom that adjoined with my granddaughters’ room.  I tried to leave a small footprint, with only a washcloth-sized area of toiletries on the counter.  In the night, if I had to use the bathroom, I tip-toed quietly to the toilet located off their family room, so that flushing wouldn’t wake the girls.  I tried to make my presence as inconspicuous as possible.

Fortunately, my husband and I spent several years learning the art of being guests when we traveled with our Family Bible Jamboree!  We stayed in many people’s homes, some palatial, some humble.  As Paul wrote, “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”  But that was a long time ago. This summer I rediscovered that the art of being a good guest is giving up a measure of control, conforming to my hosts’ way of doing things.  I also realized that it is more challenging to adapt as I get older and more set in my ways. 

And though I was a guest, I was also the host.  That got me musing that in many ways Christ is both host and guest.  It is His world, and we are invited to enjoy it.  At the same time, He knocks on the door and enters into our lives as a guest, not pushy or demanding, but waiting to be included in our every thought and action.  It behooves me to learn how to be both a good guest and a good host from the One who knows both roles. 

I thank Kimberly and Court for putting up with me in their space.  I know that being a guest in my home for the summer isn’t always easy for them… I hope I made their summer enjoyable as my guests, and that I also made it easy for them to host me in their “home away from home”.

Love, Liz