Filling empty spaces

Fixing up my new one bedroom apartment was a huge ordeal for an OCD, organization loving planner like myself. Shopping for furniture was a process. Every piece had to fit perfectly. With my vision for that room, the other pieces I had already bought, and the look and feel I was going for. I thought and looked and measured and pictured. It had to be perfect.

During this process, I found myself obsessing more specifically over three rooms: the kitchen, living room, and balcony. They were somehow more important than my bedroom and bathroom. In picking things out, I was more selective. Less willing to jump in and buy something without certainty. More concerned about the vibe each item would give off.

I know, this sounds utterly ridiculous. As if my decorating dilemmas have any real significance. But stick with me for a minute...

For the kitchen...I took special time to make certain my dishes were the right color and sizes. Deliberated long and hard over how many sets of utensils to buy. Searched and searched for just the right bar stools. I just needed more seating. Even though I am only one person.

For the living room...I found the perfect couch right away. Vibrant red. Soft fabric. Small enough to not overpower the small room, but definitely big and cozy enough to sleep on. That one was important. Even though I would have my own bed in the next room. Then I needed just the right lamps, because there was no overhead lighting. And end tables. More than one. People would need places to set their drinks, obviously. And the vibe. That was a big one. What ambiance would it give? What feel was I going for? Rustic. Earthy. Cozy. Real. Reds and browns. Homey when you get right down to it. I was going for homey.

And for the balcony...We must have looked at patio furniture at a dozen places. Nothing was right. Nothing said you can do life here. You'll feel at peace sitting on this chair. serene while sipping your coffee at this bistro table. I needed that perfect set of two chairs and a table. For me and...? Who knows, but I had to have two. And when I found the perfect brown wicker table and chairs with bright yellow cushions, I knew. That balcony would be a sunny paradise. A perfect escape. For two.

So what is the point of all this decorating talk? I'm getting there, I promise!

Last night, I had four friends over for one of their birthdays. I made dinner, and we all sat in the living room laughing as we shared a meal together. I kept asking people if they needed anything, acting very hostess-like. I remember saying out loud, "Dear Lord, I am turning into my mother!"

I was. I bought way too much food. Offered to fill everybody's drinks. Filled my plate last. Kept bringing out more food. Insisting that people eat more. I was my mother to a T. And while my mother is the most spectacular woman on the planet, and on most counts I hope and pray to be more like her...I always swore I would never be like her in this respect.

I remember saying to her...sit down, Mom. Stop asking us what we need. Serve yourself. Eat already. Sit, we're fine! Please, I cannot eat another bite. Holidays. Dinners with friends. Birthday parties. She was always the perfect hostess. A total servant, taking care of everyone else. And while I knew that she loved it, I didn't get it. I was even annoyed by it. I just wanted her to be a little more selfish. Take care of herself.

I decided this went along with being a stay at home mom. While it's a beautiful, undoubtedly hard and hugely important job...that just wasn't me. And I wasn't gonna do it. I'm not wired that way, I've always told myself. I couldn't not have my own life.

I lumped this perfect hostess thing into the same "that's honorable but never gonna be me" category. Right next to getting married young, having kids, and being a stay at home mom. Not me. Not gonna happen. That was that.

Last night I was standing in the kitchen washing dishes. I could see my friends through the bar opening sitting in the living room chatting and laughing away. They were having a great time. Doing community. And I was so content washing dishes rather than joining them. I was filled with joy while I watched them smile, knowing they were enjoying it. I've never been more happy doing dishes. And I had more fun watching them share stories and crack jokes than I would have sitting on the floor by their side.

That's when I realized it was okay to be like my mom in this respect. I finally got it. All those times she cleared our plates and washed dishes while making coffee to go with dessert instead of joining in the conversation. She didn't need to. She was filled with more joy taking care of people. She was serving her community through simply being a good hostess.

And then it hit me...the reason I obsessed so much over these empty spaces and what would fill them. It wasn't just perfectionism. It was because I wanted to invite community into my home. I wanted this to be a place that opened its doors to friends and strangers. A place that stimulated deep conversation. Welcomed laughter. Invited community.

That's why I needed more chairs and tables. So more people could fill this space comfortably. I needed the cozy couch so friends could sleep here when lonely or temporarily homeless or just stopping into town for a night. I needed all the perfect dishes to have family dinners. With whoever whenever. And I needed the perfect balcony furniture so the space would say, hey friend, you can rest here. You can find peace and refreshment here on this balcony. Right by my side. In silence or in deep conversation. The whole place needed to say, we can go there in this space. We can ask tough questions. Share dark pasts. Confide in each other. Dream for the world.


It wasn't about the furniture that would fill these empty spaces, but the community that would. It was about creating a space that welcomes community. In whatever form it would come.

You might walk into this apartment and just see furniture. But I see a space that says you're welcome here. You can find community here. And through that, I pray that Jesus shows up and rocks your world. Meets you intimately right where you're at. Right where and when and how you need it. Using community to speak to you and grow you into all He designed you to be.

As for me, I'm learning that I don't always know how I'm wired. What I want. What I will or won't end up doing or being someday. I've learned that God can rewire me. Change what I desire. And bring me to a place and grow me into a person I never dreamed I'd be.

And I can't help but wonder what in the "that's honorable but never gonna be me" category God will choose to rewire and prepare me for next.