After a very brief discussion last night we signed up to offer a room to any Ukrainian refugee needing shelter. Yes, the conversation was brief between us but the impact and consequences were fully understood, if not voiced.
We don’t have a massive house, just a regular 1930s semi, but we are empty nesting, we have room. We are fully aware that it will disrupt completely what is a very nice life thankyou, that it will cause some compromise, some discomfort and a willingness to walk into someone else’s trauma and embrace it as our own.
Today it wasn’t enough to weep then walk away.
I’m not sharing this as a pat us on the back post, not at all, even if that might be your first impression. I’m sharing this because I hope that we won’t be called out on it, that like a last minute Abrahamic drama, it will be a test, that the Lord will look and say “no, it’s ok, rest easy in your comfort” but I also know I have to be ready to stand up and deliver on the Fiat. I’m wanting to say that I’m fearful we won’t do this well, that we will be grumpy or inhospitable on some days, I guess I’m worries we will fail to offer what is needed and that maybe it’s better not to offer at all…. But I know that isn’t Gods voice.
Here’s the thing, there are moments when money from our surplus isn’t enough of a sacrifice to be worthy, a little financial pinch for us in the face of great fear and suffering isn’t enough of an offering. I feel called out as a Christian to be prepared to become what I speak of, whilst at the very same time secretly hoping I won’t be needed after all, that the intention is enough. Then this other part of me feels so drawn to doing something a little radical in His name.
There are many good, good people, better people, offering to host who don’t know Jesus, what then sets us apart if we don’t even meet their level of sacrifice and charity?
Time to stand up Church, and time to beg for the grace to do it well, from and with those familiar outstretched arms.
