hospitality.

It is 4:30am.

I'm at my second part-time job right now, which oddly enough includes working 8-hour shifts overnight with my brother Eric. Other than the fact that I would love to curl up under my cubicle right now with a warm blanket, it's not too bad.

Working the "graveyard shift" is a very interesting experience. You're driving home while everyone else is just starting to get up and out for their jobs. You crawl into bed when everyone else is crawling out. You see the sunrise as your cue to get some rest, you view breakfast as dinner, and your sleep (if/when it actually happens) feels like more of a long nap than a full night's rest.

And while I would love to be back on a normal sleep schedule, I'm grateful for the opportunities this job has opened up. One of which is the new apartment Joe and I have moved in to.

It's modern while still being comfortable and home-y. It's big enough for the two of us, and small enough that I don't feel like I'm cleaning all the time. It feels like we've been there forever, yet still has the "new carpet smell" when I walk in the door.

It's the first chance we've had to really make a place our own. When we were first married, we rented a beautiful house from friends in Mount Vernon. It was way too big for just the two of us, and I felt spoiled every day I was there. One of those homes that just has character, you know? But because we were renting for a short time, and they were in the process of trying to sell, I didn't work too hard at really decorating it.

Then, of course, we made the dreaded move into the basement of my parent's house when we first moved out to PA. It wasn't necessarily a forced thing; we could've moved right into an apartment out here, but we wanted to get settled and have time to shop around and make sure Joe got a job before we committed to a year-long lease. So, obviously, I didn't do much to our space at my parent's. I did burst into tears on one occasion, out of nowhere, and that was when we started looking for our place.

And now we have it. A second floor, two-bedroom apartment. Our place. My chance to really flex my interior designing muscles and make it look gooood. Now, I'm not sure how good it looks- I like it, and that's what matters- but it was a fun process. Figuring out color palettes and scoring great buys at the thrift store. Moving furniture only to move it back a day later. Hanging paintings and buying curtains. The works.

Something Joe and I have always agreed upon and believed firmly in is the concept of hospitality. Wherever we end up, we always want our home to be a place that people feel like they can come and just be. A relaxed atmosphere where others don't feel the need to put on a show, but understand that they are loved and welcomed for who they are in that moment and not who they've been or who they'll become.

Maybe that seems a bit overly dramatic, or extreme. But it's what we feel has been put on our hearts to make happen.
We've only had a few people over so far... my brother not included, who seems to have found his own home-away-from-home in playing Call of Duty with Joe in our living room.

And while it's been a hard transition to move here from our college town where we had such a solid community of friends, we're not giving up on the idea of God using our space for good. Because in reality, it's not our space. And I don't want to waste time being tight-fisted and fearful, but instead to relax and let our door be open.

Someday, when we are in the next stage of kids & family, we will open our home up to kids who may not have otherwise had one. I may not know what I want to do for a job in ten years, but without a doubt I know that I want to be a mom to a house full of kids, both biological and adopted. There is not a single thought that brings me more peace and joy than that one.

I'll end with this: "Hospitality" can mean generously providing care and kindness to whoever is in need.
There are so many people in need around me on any given day. I would be wasting my life if I didn't respond to them in any possible way.

Here's to life together.
SMF