The hospitality paradox.

If you take a look at some of my old notebooks, you may come across some lists of people's names.  Don't freak out if you ever see your name there on one of those lists.  I promise I'm not stalking you or anything.  Besides, if I met you during college, it's less likely that your name would be on one of those lists.

I love makings lists (I extravert J pretty strongly, so of course I would), but there's a good chance I made those lists for people I wanted to give something to for Christmas.

These lists were super long because they represented a spectrum of my social network - from my closest friends stretching down to acquaintances I've had very little interactions with. I'd list them all.  For my closest friends of course, I wanted to give something special that expressed how much I cared about them.  For the friends and acquaintances I didn't know as well, I wanted to embrace the art of surprise and give them something because I knew they wouldn't expect it.  Even though we weren't close, I wanted them to know I still cared and thought about them.

I'd be ambitious and write down the name of every single person I wanted to give something to.  Then I'd eventually realize that my budget didn't realistically fit a list that long, so I'd come up with a hierarchical budget based on how close I was to them.  And since I hated the thought of taking anyone off the list (as if I was somehow obligated to do something for whoever's name crossed my mind) I had to get creative about what I was going to give them.  I'd take what skills I knew I had and things I liked to do and put that into use.  One Christmas I spent hours reading short inspiring stories, printing out the ones I liked and rolled them  in wrapping paper and ribbon to look like little firecrackers and gave those to my acquaintances.  For another Christmas I bought gift bags and baked cookies to give away with a little personalized note.  Other times I'd make handmade Christmas cards.

I loved making things for people because I figured they'd appreciate someone taking the thought and time to make something specifically for them, even if it was small.  Don't you love those kinds of gifts?

Over time I've recognized the idealistic efforts as being impractical, but it's been an ongoing struggle with the concept behind it.  Essentially I want every person I encounter to know that they are worth my time and worth my efforts - they are valuable and important to me.  I want them to know that they are loved.  You don't need to spend any length of time or to do anything special for someone to really care about you - someone who loves who you are despite who you've been and cares about where you're going no matter how long or short you may be in their life.

At the same time, I'm often overwhelmed by how many people I want to reach, and it makes me recognize how finite and limited I am.  I've worked myself into the ground, trying to meet the needs of the masses and have learned (the hard way) that it's unhealthy and not possible to do so.  You can't be boundlessly available, you can't be friends with everyone, you can't please everyone, and you can't give everyone the personal attention the person wants or needs.

During my first few years of college I struggled with this because I didn't know how to care for all the people I loved back home when I wasn't physically around to be there for them while also care for all the new relationships I was developing on campus.  I felt like I was stuck and was being forced to choose between two very important worlds and hated how one or the other seemed to lose out.

As I've been learning more about hospitality and how it unfolds in my life, it seems as though there's a bit of that paradox as well.  With hospitality, you often find yourself wanting to meet the needs of the masses all at the same time - but how do you do that while giving personal attention or care to remind them that they are known, heard and loved?  As a host, how do you meet such a wide range of individual needs?  How do you meet so many physical and spiritual needs with such limited resources?

It's a paradox I keep coming back to over and over again as I meet new people, think of those currently in my life and often think of people I've known in the past.  But as a paradox, though it seems to contradict itself, there's an element of truth to it.

I think the truth is that while we are finite, God is infinite; while we are limited, God is unlimited; where we lack in resources, God provides in abundance.  It's the very thing I forget every time I return to this paradox.    Just look at how Jesus fed the five thousand.  And then did it again with four thousand!  At the same time, it seemed like those stories weren't focused as much on the crowd or the individuals within the crowd as much as they were focused on the disciples and how they were responding/interacting with Jesus.  Hm.  I guess it's something to look into.

In any case, there's no exact formula to know how to care for the many people your heart breaks for.  That was something I had to get over a long time ago.  But I've stopped making those kinds of lists on paper.  It doesn't mean I've given up on caring, it's just that the lists constantly change and are stored mentally rather than on paper.

And they're not focused so much on Christmas gifts.