"You are welcome here."

On a recent roadtrip, a dear friend and I landed on the discussion of what character traits we really value and really despise in friendships. I may attribute the topic to it being 2 am and us being lost in the winding roads of West Virginia, but it was so enlightening.

As my closest friend in DC, she has great ability to speak about the good (and not good, terribly bad) traits I portray. An honest and open conversation it became and we soon discussed how to remedy and not become the people or characteristics we detest.

She echoed back what I said I value most in a friendship: hospitality and trustworthiness. Not hospitality in the "let's have a slumber party at my house" way, but the type of "what's mine is yours" and "please take my jacket". I respect the individuals in my life who have shown me such a great and sacrificial welcome that I strive to be like them, and to create a world where deep hospitality is normal.

I attended a bible study in college at a professor's house. I honestly cannot tell you a lot of what we discussed, but I so vividly remember and treasure their genuine hospitality. Tim would greet us at the door, always saying "You are welcome here." I actually believed him every time. Sarah prepared the tea, and always offered her top-shelf, coveted black licorice tea. They were genuine and honest and truly welcoming.

Fast forward to a month ago when I made an extended visit to the South. Yes, the southern hospitality rumors are true. But again, it did not come in the form of a quick dinner or house party. Instead, I found genuine hospitality in the way an elderly family friend welcomed all the bridesmaids to a southern high tea at her beautiful estate. She wanted to welcome us into her home--not because she knew us or loved us--but, she said "because I know I have the ability to do this." She is gifted at making people feel comfortable and welcomed, and she beamed with love when she did so. The entire bridal family overflowed with hospitality as well--sending me back to DC with lots of food and goodies, and offering a Thanksgiving in the south. These amazing people who I have met twice make me feel ever so loved and cherished just by saying "you are welcome here."

Feeling loved evolves when one feels comfortable and welcomed. I begin to trust when I know you want me in the space you have created. Such profound conversations and friendships have evolved when someone breaks bread at their dinner table, or invites the community to their living room. I believe (and want and desire) the church should function like this; we are a community of many houses, of many spaces created to welcome any and all. What if we all welcomed in such a genuine and selfless way? There would be no person left unloved.

You are welcome here. You belong. You are loved.