Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Hospitality
Enoch called his 'Opa' earlier this evening. They were in a meeting and so were not able to take the call. When Asha called later, 'Oma and Opa' were trying to prepare food for 18 people. Turns out the meeting was a prayer meeting and was held at Shanti Kunj - the amazing home that Mum and Dad have filled with love, high up in the Himalayan foot hills.
What with the cool air of the hills - that would make 18 very hungry people to serve. I can just imagine the hustle and bustle in the warm kitchen - the laughter and conversation in the dining area - some music on the CD player and the night lights of Dehra Dun twinkling in the valley below. Our kids will certainly get to talk to their grandparents tomorrow - we expect a call from Oma and Opa sometime before they go to school in the afternoon (Asha and Enoch that is - not Oma and Opa).
The sheer breath-taking beauty of Mussoorie can mask some of the pain that goes on. Dad sent an email yesterday saying that one of the women that they as a family have been helping died. She had HIV and passed away at the Landour Community Hospital. HIV doesn't only live down in the gutters of slum-dog Mumbai - but also clings on to the sides of the mountains where the wind whistles through fir trees.
We are so proud of both sets of parents that God has blessed us with. Both are continuing to live out lives of love. Reaching out to people who other people steer clear of. While we always want them to 'slow down' - it looks highly unlikely given the big hearts they have.
Mum and Dad have created an amazing home. And it is not the staggering view from Shanti Kunj that makes the place - or even the interiors with the quaint beauty that Mum has filled them with. What really draws people there is the love that they receive. The real sense that they are cared for and special. The beauty of two lives - who have grown old together - and are still seeking to reach out and touch others with the hope that they have in their Lord Jesus.
Mussoorie all seems very far away for us here in Thane - as the heat has come upon us with a bang - and as the old mixture of tiredness and mental and emotional fatigue works its way into our days. But as I parse back in time I remember the same things taking place in Nana Chowk. Mum's kitchen had a small table put there so people could sit and talk with her while she cooked. That place had a special beauty and was treasured by those who spent time with her. For all the people that Dad touched through his speaking and visiting the teams - perhaps just as many were blessed through Mum listening and speaking with them over coffee - while half the traffic of Bombay droned outside in the manic intersection of cars that Nana Chowk was.
How much we underestimate the gift of hospitality. Would that our home would be a place where we show a big heart. We love people - but get so tired. But that can't be an excuse. We have seen how much our parents went the extra mile in their lives. I certainly relished having new folks at the dinner table almost every day while growing up. May God grow our hearts bigger.
We saw a little bit of the kind of hospitality we would like to practice more of in an unplanned visit of two little girls to our place today. One of them had had her 4th birthday the day before - but her mother had been sick and depressed and so had not come for work. It was a public holiday today so none of the kids had school. We made up for the little girl's lost birthday by holding a small impromptu party here - and a lunch together with Asha and Enoch. How proud we are of our kids. Asha and Enoch just took these two little ones under their arms - patiently playing with them - and even feeding them the remaining part of their lunch.
May they follow in the footsteps of their grandparents - both the ones in the Himalaya - and the ones on the Bay of Bengal!
This brings back a good memory of the day and night that Gretchen Berggren and I spent in your parents home. We did truly feel loved and valued. You are right there is a special love there that can only come from Christ Himself.
ReplyDeleteMy regards to your parents.
Peace!
Muriel Elmer