Be Our Guest.

To this day my favorite Disney movie is Beauty and the Beast.

I know, I know. I am twenty-something and still, when toodling around the house cleaning or cooking or something, every now and again I think, "I should have Beauty and the Beast on in the background."

So I do.

Oh boy, do I.

And while the first song ("Provincial Life") is really my favorite, I just can't really get over the Be Our Guest one. You all know that hospitality is like---BIG---to me, so I guess it goes without saying.
But, like all the other times: I will say it again. Hospitality is big to me.

I love being an overnight guest. I love having overnight guests. I think there is something special that happens when you wake up in the same house and eat breakfast in your jams with someone. There is a bond.

 

But being an overnight guest is different than having overnight guests. I know this because, honestly, I have been an overnight guest way more than I have had overnight guests (hopefully the tally will be evened out soon!).
Here are some snapshots (some you may remember) from some of my favorite times of being an overnight guest.

Since I am an overnight guest frequently due to the nature of my life, I have thought long and hard about this subject. Long and hard. I have been fortunate that the overwhelming majority of my overnight-guest-experiences have been wonderful. The Lord has blessed me with great peoples in my life and for that I am grateful. But sometimes I can't help but think: "But what if these were not good experiences?"

You know what I mean? In my opinion, things can go from good to bad in about a matter of three seconds. I have told you this in so many words in describing at length my feelings about bathrooms. Easy peasy, things can be good, and then they can go very south. But I haven't had too many of those experiences (praise the Lord).

Back to what I said though, being a house-guest is quite different than having house-guests. I mean, you are kind of at the mercy of your host and hostess. You eat what they give you, you stay where they tell you, you use what they provide. No matter how you cut it it is a sign of generosity and generosity is the be accepted thankfully and gracefully.

And as I was pondering this in my head, the thought occurred to me, "But what if I was a terrible house-guest?"

Ungrateful. Rude. Demanding. Critical.

What if I put up a fit? Or was like, "Oh sorry, I don't eat that...." as I look across a table that the hostess has so graciously set and put together?

I mean, can you imagine? Pride much? Looking at what they have done (that you don't deserve and didn't pay for) and basically saying, "Oh yeah, that's not good enough. You don't meet my standards..."

Yikes.

My mind ran to all kinds of places and scenarios about how terrible that would be and as I was ghastly horrified, I was reading in a different translation of the Bible. For whatever reason I picked up A New Living Translation, which is done in totally modern English. I was browsing through there the other morning and came upon Psalm 39.
The NLT put it into quite the little perspective for me.

"Hear my prayer, O Lord; listen to my cry! Don't sit back, unmindful of my tears. For I am your guest. I am a traveler passing through the earth, as all my fathers were." (very 12)

Do you see that??! I AM YOUR GUEST.
At first I thought, "How rude to say!" for I thought that it was implying, "I am your guest, wait on me, do my bidding. Go out of your way to please me."
But then. Then. I realized that that's not what it means at all. Because what happens when you are someone's guest?
YOU ARE AT THEIR MERCY.

Now tell me. When was the last time you rightfully judged your life and admitted, "God, I am at your mercy"?
Because you are.

We are his guest.
If our concept of the ordering of the world is right, we know that we are powerless apart from Christ. We cannot provide for ourselves. We cannot make things happen. We cannot save ourselves. We can't keep our own lives from harm.
We are at his mercy. Because we are his guest.

We eat what he gives us, we stay where he tells us to, we use what he provides, because all we have is what he has provided.

What a thought.

So then, because it begs the question: What kind of house-guest are you?

Do you look at your life and understand that it is all due to his generosity and his love (and love isn't all just flowers and hearts, it can be tough sometimes too)? What you have has come from the hand of God and that is to be treated reverently?

Or.....are you maybe in the other camp? Like the person refusing to eat what is placed before you? Because maybe it doesn't fit your standards? Or because it doesn't seem to be good enough for what you think you deserve?

The thing is, Wolfies, we don't deserve any of it. And we most certainly didn't pay for it. We are the beggars at his table, the lame ones he brought in off the street and chose to make his own.
He is not our guest, as if he is at our mercy to do as we bid. We are his guest. Don't get that role reversed, babies.

Revel.

Remember my Robins?

Eggs hatch.

And then the babies need to be fed.

Pretty horses outside my window.

Fuschias. My favorite.

Basil and Tarragon.

Tiny tiny tiny and perfect.

Last night was kind of magical. It was one of those evenings where, if you live in the country and on a gravel road (like I do), you are familiar with, but not because it happens so often but because it is so rare and you therefore remember it vividly.
For starters, there was no wind. Now, I live in the middle of a wind farm, so not having any wind happens almost never. A number of years ago they put up something like 268 of those huge wind turbines in an 8 mile radius of my house because when it comes to wind energy, my backyard is like Saudi Arabia.
So there was no wind and this almost never happens.

But when it does....

Magic.

I say that because there is a quality the stillness adds that seems other worldly.
As I said, I live on a gravel road. And what do gravel roads produce? Anybody?

Dust.

Which usually flies away on the breeze as quickly as the speeding car produced the tan colored cloud.
But when there is no wind....it just hangs there. Almost like fog. And it either floats or stands completely still. Sometimes a very slight breeze will come and will make it dance and twirl the way a full skirt of organza would on a little girl moving in circles.

So last night was that night; a night when the dust hangs onto the air.

Last night was also a night of dark clouds. Surprisingly it never rained, but the inky tone to the sky made the green of the forests and fields look like velvet, so dark it was, lit only by the setting sun which gave it's most lovely light display in the north sky (very strange), the only direction in which clouds did not cover.

It can't help but put you in a mood. It can't help but mesmerize you, take your breath away a bit and make you know that words are not needed. You just revel.

Yesterday afternoon I had a lovely little visit at work from a very dear friend and two of her babies. What a fabulous surprise! It brightened up my whole day and after they had gone I continued to smile and be thankful. Thankful for them, thankful for surprises, thankful for someone taking the time to say hi, thankful that they care, thankful that I am blessed to have really good people in my life.

I sat there at work being reminded of a few days ago when I was over at their house visiting for a bit and, my friend, being the proficient gardener and cultivator of all kinds of wild plants and growing things that she is, showed me around her yards a bit. And we talked and walked awhile, grabbing this herb and that edible weed and that flowering shrub, rubbing them together in our hands to release their oils and breathe in deep of their brilliant and pungent fragrances.

We do this sort of thing often (basically every time I am over) and were joking that the people who drive by her house and see us doing this frequently are probably like, "What's wrong with those women? Why are they always smelling those plants....?"

And we laughed. Because laughter is good among friends.

In thinking about all those delightful growing things we were partaking of, I can never help but be amazed that while they all are green in color and they all spring up from the dirt, they are about as different as a Moped from a Mercedez.

So last night then, in the magical stillness, I had to go over the another friends' house to pick up some books and paintbrushes and homemade bread.
How great is that?! To have friends that I can get books and paintbrushes and homemade bread from?!
In much the same way, what did we do before I left? Walked around her (also beautiful) yard, looking at lovely flowers and growing plants and smelling leaves of all kinds.

And as I was there with her, being reminded of my other friend as well, as we were doing a very similar activity, I was a little overwhelmed, if I admit it. I was overwhelmed by the fact that God orchestrates both.
Really blessed friendships and really spectacular foliage.

I think of the beauty of nights like last night, the vast vast vast array of plants alone, and know that anything less than praising God for being who he is and creating such excellencies has to be some sort of heresy.

How can it be denied? That God is good and creative and wants to be involved in every infinitesimal aspect of our lives I feel is never more evident then when you look at a flower in a rock garden, not any bigger than a penny, yet still so full of color and life and design, is there any other appropriate response than "Amen"?

And yet.

For all the beauty of these gardens, for all the most intricate engineering of them, for the beauty of nights where the dust hangs in the air, I was reminded that creation is not the crown of creation.

We are.

Humans.

Living, breathing, moving.

Praying, weeping, mourning, rejoicing.

Whatever the state.

Walking around gardens on still nights.

Surprising friends at work just to say hi.

Loaning out paintbrushes and books.

Calling to say hi.

God is most glorified in us.

We are the ones Christ made in his image (Colossians 1).

We are the ones with souls that will live through eternity.

And these times we spent in these gardens, looking at this flower here, and smelling that herb there, what were we doing? Connecting. Building relationships. Sharing in the glory of God's goodness. Doing what we were created to do: be in relationship with others, for God is three in one; it is not good for us to be alone (Genesis 2:18).

For not only is God so good that he has given us flowers and plants that produce food to nourish our bodies and herbs that make things taste even more sublime, but he has, in a sense, given us to each other. He has given us people to live life with and share things with.

Like quiet nights, and times of weeping. Paintbrushes and rejoicing.

And isn't it all really kind of miraculous?

Roses and relationships alike.

All come from His hand.

Because he is so good to us.

So today, think about it.

Whether it's the beauty of June that jogs your memory of it or something else entirely, recognize the fact that not only, if you have entrusted your life to Christ as Savior, has God given you himself (and that would have been enough), but that he has then gone and given you people and companions to walk this life with. People to revel in Christ with. People to walk these days with, and then to worship God in eternity with. You have never beheld a mere mortal, Wolfies. You have never known nor will you ever know a more excellent creation than those people God has given you.
What a good God we have.