Home by Candace Echols
The irony of the close relationship between the words “hospitality” and “hospital” strikes me each time I think of it. Hospitality reminds me of peonies and duvets and sun-kissed leaves; hospitals are cold with harsh lighting and hard surfaces at every turn. I know, because this summer, I had to spend some time in a hospital with one of my children. I saw nary a rug, nor a flower arrangement. There was not a window treatment in sight and even magazines and books were scarce.
But when my daughter received a chronic neurologic diagnosis and we were given the hard facts about what was ahead, the genuine sympathy on the face of the doctor, and the hug from a nurse who mothers a child with the same disorder made that place feel like the cover of Southern Living. I was struck, even in those difficult moments, by the stunning overlap of good hospitals and genuine hospitality.
This new diagnosis, on top of the worldwide events of the last two years, means that the day-to-day stress our family is carrying feels more taxing than ever. Watching my husband and five children walk through the door heavy laden each evening has caused me to rethink my calling as a homemaker.
And in that thinking, a new truth has dawned on me. Home is not just the place we go by default when the day is over. An intentionally hospitable home—maybe now more than ever—has a God-given purpose.
And it has something to do with healing.
Home as a hospital for the soul...
When the bad news about my child’s diagnosis came, a meal sign-up from friends quickly followed. Through their dinners, I was reminded how almost nothing comforts like home-cooked food. After we made our way through the first few weeks of our new norm, I realized we needed the intentionality of good cooking to continue. Feeding my family well was a ministry to their souls, by way of their stomachs. The scent of apples and cinnamon in the crockpot, beef braising for dinner, and fresh bread were like a hug from the inside out. I have been astonished at my family’s reaction to good smells coming from the kitchen. Wafting scents of sizzling bacon or sautéing garlic communicate, “Good things are being prepared for you, because you are loved,” which is actually a spiritual principle.
In John 14:1-3, Jesus says he is going ahead of us to prepare good things for those who believe in Him. “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms…And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” The hearty anticipation my family experiences when I’m cooking in the kitchen can be used to point them to all that Jesus is preparing for his Bride. That may sound hyper-spiritual for the modern American home, but it shouldn’t. A healthy eternal perspective mixed with eager anticipation is the most buoyant mindset available. A table full of yummy food coupled with a well-timed thought on Heaven will restore our families, both body and soul.
Home as a foreshadowing of Heaven...
In my house, there are tears every day. Somebody gets mad. Somebody gets hurt. Someone is frustrated or hungry, tired or stressed. But it won’t always be this way. Revelation 21:4 tells us, “[God] will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” The homes of Christians should be places where we are tools in God’s hands as we gently apply the salve of his grace to one another. Because of our brokenness, at some point, we have all played the part of the offender and the offended. The forgiveness we have received from Jesus empowers us to empathize with those we love in order to extend that same mercy to them when we are hurt. This ongoing pattern of offering forgiveness creates an atmosphere of peace, which is a foreshadowing of Heaven.
I’ve had to ask myself if I’m slowing down enough to have these grace-filled conversations. These things take time, thought, and the help of the Holy Spirit. During the hospital stays with my child, my attention was laser-focused on the doctor when he entered the room. I had my questions ready and wrote down each of his answers. My phone was on silent and I was fully present in every way. Recently, I’ve forced myself to make a cup of afternoon half-caff and to sit down for thirty minutes with nothing in hand. This communicates, “I’m here to listen. I’m not in a rush. I might even laugh!” This a very practical way to point those in my home toward the joys of Heaven and the heart of our Father, who is ready for us to “cast our cares on him, because he cares for us [I Peter 5:7].”
Home as a home for everybody…even mom...
I remember my mom quoting a poem when I was a child about a woman’s work never being done. It was cute and funny and it felt true at the time, but it was not actually biblical. Sabbath rest is a gift from God to all his children and that includes the mothers! Hebrews 11:9 tells us, “So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God's rest has also rested from his works as God did from his.” While this refers to our resting in Jesus’ finished atonement, it echoes the Old Testament gift of rest on the seventh day. The ironic beauty here is striking.
While we are scurrying all week to create a soft place in our homes for our families to recharge, God is creating a soft place in our calendars for us to settle down and recharge in his love.
Homemakers have a unique opportunity to minister to others by creating a soft place to land in this harsh world. Just as the intelligence and kindness of the medical staff met my child’s physical needs, by God’s grace, our homes can become hospitals for the soul, meeting the heart needs of those we love most.
Candace Echols and her husband Jim live in Memphis, Tennessee, where they are raising their five children and their Bernedoodle, Rookie. She has written for The Gospel Coalition, Risen Motherhood, Deeply Rooted, Style Blueprint, and Storyboard Memphis. This past year, she released her first children's book, Josephine and the Quarantine. Candace loves the fine art of asking good questions as well as traveling. She can't wait to return to England sometime soon!