The Table That Taught Me | What My Gran Showed Me About Faith & Hosting
When Hosting Feels Like a Leap of Faith
We’re hosting a Friendsgiving in our home in just a week and a half. The very next day, my brother and his family will fly in from California to spend Thanksgiving with us. I wish I could say we’re ready—but we’re not. Still, I know we’ll get there.
The truth is… we don’t even have a dining room table yet.
Our dining room is a blank slate with soft alabaster walls, waiting to come to life. But when my new friend here in South Carolina asked if we wanted to host Friendsgiving together, something inside me said yes. Not a logical, “everything’s ready” kind of yes—but a spiritual yes. I could feel God nudging me to open our doors anyway.
It reminded me of something I had longed for back in New Jersey.
When Hospitality Was Hard
In our tiny New Jersey home, hosting was something I loved but often found difficult. One memory stands out: a neighborhood Bible study I led on weeknights with friends and neighbors. Our fifth baby was just a newborn then—so small, so precious, and so very needy.
We’d gather in our cramped living area and then move to our dining area where I set out snacks, but by the end of each session everyone was bumping elbows and stepping over toys. Our little ranch-style home had all the bedrooms off the main living space, so getting the littles to sleep while we hosted was a juggling act.
Eventually, I felt the Lord whisper to my heart: Lay it down for now.
It didn’t make sense. Didn’t He want us to open our home? But as I look back, I see that it wasn’t the wrong dream—it was simply the wrong season.
The Dream That Waited
Even so, I never stopped yearning for more space to gather. For years, I dreamed of hosting my own Thanksgiving. I pictured people around a table, laughter spilling into every corner, the smell of roast chicken and gratitude in the air.
Now, here I am—with that very opportunity.
And yet, it’s easy to get lost in the details—the decorating, the cleaning, the planning—and forget that I’m standing in the middle of an answered prayer.
The Table That Taught Me
When I think about gathering people around a table, I can’t help but think of my Gran. She lived just around the corner from us, and so many of my sweetest family memories were made in her dining room.
Her home was always alive with warmth and the scent of something wonderful simmering on the stove. Classical music played loudly—joyfully—throughout the house, and she greeted every guest with the biggest, most genuine smile.
Gran had an eye for beauty and a gift for making people feel seen. Her table was more than furniture; it was a place of belonging. No one ever left her home feeling like a stranger. They left feeling full—of food, of laughter, and of love.
I think about her often now, especially as I prepare to host in this new home. I want my dining room to carry that same spirit—a place where beauty and grace meet, and where the love of Jesus feels tangible.
What People Really Want
The more I think about it, the more I realize that people don’t crave perfection. They crave connection. They just want a space to feel seen, loved, and welcomed.
That’s what I want my home to be—a space where people can exhale.
A place that whispers, you belong here.
Sure, I love making things cozy and pretty. But for me, hosting has never been about showing off a perfect home. It’s about offering what I have, however imperfect, to create room for God to move in the hearts of others.
Jump Before You’re Ready
It’s a little intimidating to be hosting a Friendsgiving with people we barely know—one family we’ve never even met. But that’s how community begins. You take the first step. You open your heart and your home, and trust that something beautiful will grow.
I believe our world is starving for genuine connection.
We’ve lost the art of gathering, and I want to help bring it back.
So here’s to stepping out in faith before everything feels “ready.”
Here’s to filling our homes—and our hearts—with warmth, laughter, and the love of Jesus.
May He be glorified here, in every imperfect, beautiful detail.
A Moment to Reflect
Maybe you’ve been waiting for “the right time” to invite someone over or to build community again.
Ask yourself:
What small step could I take this week to open my home—or my heart—to connection?
How might God be calling me to create space for others, even if it feels a little uncomfortable?
What if the very thing that feels not ready yet is actually the beginning of something sacred?
May you remember that it’s not about the size of your table or the perfection of your space—it’s about the love that fills it. And may we all carry a little bit of Gran’s warmth with us as we open our doors and let grace in. 🕯️
