Know and Be Known

My small group girls were sophomores in college when they decided we wanted to host a party. THE FALL THING, they called it, which I found adorable. A party for any girl in our church’s college ministry, the THE FALL THING was to be a place where girls could meet each other, get into small groups, and have a pinterest-y good time. 

In the weeks leading up to the event (and listen, when you have twelve 20-year olds planning one party, it is an EVENT), the girls and I would shop and plan and pray. They made decorations out of tissue paper, ordered little gifts for each girl they hoped would attend, pinned recipes for which we divided the cooking responsibility. (They also cleaned my house and reorganized my furniture and hand-crafted window treatments for my living room, so yeah, I was a happy hostess.)

The night finally arrived. My girls were nervous and excited and paced back and forth, wondering if anyone would show up. Within minutes of the start time, young women began pouring into my house. We hit max capacity—that moment at a party when everyone is so squished it feels like bumper cars going from one corner of the room to the other.

What impressed me most was not how my girls decorated or cooked, though both skill sets were on point. What brought tears to my eyes was how they connected with each gal who attended. I watched as my girls asked real questions, were vulnerable with their own stories and lives, putting themselves out there to make sure the visitors felt welcomed, cared for, and known.

Yes, the environment and food and prizes mattered that night in my house, but those one hundred or so college girls walked out of my house feeling important. And that is what REALLY mattered.

What I witnessed at the party that night was not unlike this scene at the well in John 4. Jesus saw—really saw— the Samaritan woman as she came to draw water. He took time to talk—really talk— to her about what mattered in her life. He made her feel welcomed, cared for, known.

And when we as women feel known? It changes who we are.

It would have been easier to clump up and talk to each other at their party, but instead, my girls talked to the strangers, the ones who came alone, the ones who knew no one. We had talked about it a little before, what it feels like to be the new girl, what it means when you show up to a party like this alone, why these college girls would show up to THE FALL THING in the first place. They remembered—we all do—what it felt like to be new and out of place, and each of my girls took it upon herself to make sure each visitor felt a part of the family.

Isn’t that true hospitality? Putting yourself in their place, loving them for who they are, and inviting them into the safe place of friendship. Jesus modeled it for us in the Bible, my girls modeled it for me in my home that night, and how I host and how I love is changed forever.

Annie F. Downs is an author and speaker based in Nashville, Tennessee. Flawed but funny, she uses her writing to highlight the everyday goodness of a real and present God. Annie is the author of Let’s All Be Brave, a book for men and women about the power we each have to make a difference on this planet. She also has two books for teens: Perfectly Unique and Speak Love.