Why there's a chocolate stain on my bathroom mat (a single's thoughts on hospitality)

caveat: my beloved and thoughtful roommate unknowingly threw this mat in the wash the other day, which makes this entire post null and void. But, here we go anyway...

.......................................................................................................

I found it after the group of young families had said good bye and tromped up the hill from my little apartment: A shiny brown smear winking up at me from my bathroom rug. And after close inspection revealed it was not what it could have been (due to several potty training toddlers), I laughed out loud as I imagined just how a chunk chocolate may have found its way to such an odd place. 

And I left it there. 

In fact, if you were to hop over to my house a few weeks ago, a casual glance at your feet would reveal a faded, "well worked in" sphere of chocolate. But, lest you faint in horror over my lack of sanitary prowess, let me explain myself. 

It's there on purpose. 

To remind this single lady of certain realities that can easily be forgotten in the rat race of a full time job, busy church ministries, and unending life responsibilities...

Reality #1: Life is not stuff. 

Stuff is a weakness of mine. I love to hunt for, arrange (and rearrange), and take comfort in the things I place in my home. And singleness magnifies stuff. No husband or children to hang my identity on. Only my home. And so it becomes hugely important to make that home "picture perfect" and fill it with things that are a genuine, beautiful expression of who I am. 

And this is not necessarily bad. 

The "bad" comes in when my stuff hinders my life. Like when...

• I don't have nieces or nephews over because they will leave my stuff a wreck (actually, they don't, but they could.) 
• I don't have married women in my home because I don't want them to stare at my stuff and compare it to their better stuff (there's no way to top what you get at wedding showers).
• I don't have families over because my stuff is not "family proof."
•  I find that I have no money to minister to people in my home because I'm blowing my budget on more and more...you guessed it, stuff. 

And when I glance at that bit o' chocolate on my fuzzy green mat I remember, that (although it coordinates beautifully with my powder room motif) it is just stuff. Christ's words in Luke 12 ring true: "a man's life consists not in the abundance of things which he possesses." And, like this passage says, I need to daily beware of the covetousness that wells up from thinking life is stuff. 

Reality #2 Life is not me. 

I know, right? That should be a no-brainer. But singles have that privilege which is at once both gloriously wonderful and painfully horrible: We can choose to be alone. 

In fact, we can choose most things in our life. And this provides a constant opportunity for selfishness. When you're alone, what do you most often think about? Yourself. When you have a choice, what do you choose? Most often what will give you greatest pleasure. 

And if you're single, unless you're intentional about it, it's possible to go entire days without considering anyone else but yourself. You work to support yourself. You eat alone unless you choose otherwise. You shop to buy things for you. And the list could go on. Problem is, with all this mememememe in every day, it's easy to think life is about just that.

But when I glance down at that brownish spot in my bathroom everyday, I remember life is not actually about me and preserving the right to choose and think about myself. In fact...Christ Himself didn't come to be pleased by those around Him. He came to give away His life (Mk 10) and lay it down (Jn 10). Your mind is probably reeling right now with many Scripture passages that speak of how the Christian should deal with self. And however you phrase it...The conclusion is the same:

 Life is not me. 

Reality #3 Life is people. 

God made man in His image. They are important to Him. They have worth because He has given them worth. And His actions towards them support that. His overriding purpose in life was not to build a beautiful home, land a "dream job", or prepare for retirement. His purpose was to seek and save and minister to (wait for it...) 

People. 

And (yes, even as a single) as I knock out my every day life, I must wrestle with what I am doing with that Divine example. Where do people fit in? Lost and saved. This is where the philosophy of hospitality comes into play. 

As a single, my home (or dorm room, or apartment, or...) is one of my greatest resources. It provides a ready platform to seek, and save, and minister. So, I keep my home clean and comfortable (okay, okay, I'm working on it) so I can easily have a neighbor in for a lemonade, or a game night with young families from church. I look for inexpensive beautiful things that will make my home a relaxing oasis for all who enter. I skimp on eating lunches out so I can treat family and friends to a movie and popcorn party. 

I say no to a lot of "stuff" because it doesn't fit into this purpose.

 And I say no to self because it never will. 

And that chocolate stain jogs my mind from thoughts of stuff and meditations of me, and reminds me that it's about time I have those young families over again. They are souls that I can minister to simply by providing them a place to meet. They are people. 

And life is people.

Beth

................................................................................

Coming Soon....the post you've all been waiting for... boldly going where no man has gone before...discovering strange new worlds...ok, I'm cracking myself up...

(Ahem)

Coming Soon: Top eight things NOT to say to single women (and why) 
.