Before We Set The Table

When I think about hospitality, it’s easy for my mind to go straight to the things I can see: What am I going to cook? Is the house clean? What should I put on the table? Do I have enough time to get everything ready?

I love making things feel warm and welcoming. I love baking something from scratch, setting out food, and creating a space where people feel comfortable enough to stay awhile. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to do those things well.

But I’m learning that hospitality begins long before any of that.

Before I set the table, I need to consider the posture of my heart before the Lord.

Why am I doing this?

Am I more concerned with whether someone is impressed by what I’ve made, or whether I’ve genuinely loved them well? Am I worried about what they’ll think of my home, or am I thankful that the Lord has given me a home I can open to someone else?

Those questions can be uncomfortable because our motives aren’t always as pure as we would like them to be. I can genuinely want to serve someone and, at the same time, find myself worrying about whether everything looks right.

That’s why I have to keep bringing my heart back to the Lord.

In Romans 12:13, believers are told to “seek to show hospitality.” And in 1 Peter 4:9, we’re told, “Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.”

I love that Scripture doesn't give us a picture of hospitality that begins with a beautiful home or an impressive meal. It points us toward something much deeper: a willingness to make room for others and serve them with the right heart.

For me, that changes the way I think about setting the table.

I can still light the candle. I can still pull out a pretty serving dish. I can bake the bread and make the table feel cozy. Those are things I genuinely enjoy, and they can be beautiful ways of caring for the people I invite into my home.

But they aren't the point.

If my table looks beautiful but I'm so worried about everything being perfect that I can't enjoy the people sitting around it, I've missed something.

If I'm comparing my home to someone else's, worrying about whether the food is good enough, or hoping someone notices how much effort I put into everything, I need to bring my heart back to the Lord.

Because hospitality isn't about showing people what I can do.

It's about using what the Lord has given me to love the people He places in front of me.

And sometimes that will look beautiful and put together. Other times, there may be dishes in the sink, flour on the counter, and absolutely nothing planned for dinner.

There is still room at the table.

I think that's where so much freedom can be found.

We don't have to wait until our homes look a certain way before we open them. We don't have to know how to cook an impressive meal. We don't need matching dishes, a beautiful tablescape, or hours to prepare.

We can simply ask, “Lord, how can I use what You've given me to love someone well today?”

Maybe the answer is inviting someone over for dinner.

Maybe it's pouring coffee and sitting at the kitchen table with a friend who needs someone to listen.

Maybe it's cutting a loaf of sourdough in half and taking the other half to a neighbor.

Maybe it's making room for someone when it would have been easier to keep our time, food, or home to ourselves.

The details will look different for each of us. But before we worry about what we're putting on the table, I think it's worth asking the Lord to examine what's happening in our hearts.

Are we trying to impress, or are we trying to serve?

Are we worried about being seen, or are we paying attention to the person He's placed in front of us?

Are we holding tightly to what He's given us, or are we willing to open our hands and share it?

I don't think we'll ever practice hospitality perfectly. That's not the goal.

My prayer is that the Lord would continue shaping my heart into one that is willing to open the door, pull up another chair, and serve with joy—not so that people leave impressed with me, but so that even in something as ordinary as sharing a meal, Christ would be honored.

So before we set the table, let's first bring our hearts before the Lord.

Then we can bake the bread, pour the coffee, open the door, and welcome people in.

Not perfectly.

Just faithfully.

Bake the bread. Set the table. Linger a little longer. 🤎