An email came a couple of weeks before New Year's and this is how I remember reading it. "Drop in at the Fulton's around 1:30. Bring a nibble if you'd like. Tom Fulton will be making his famous bloody marys." I knew the group that was gathering; it was a group that had been gathering for years. We were invited last year but couldn't go so I was so glad we were kept on the list. (See that's the high school adolescent voice in my head that tells me people keep score.) I was really looking forward to the gathering.
New Year's Day came and I got hung up with a phone call so we were about 45 minutes late leaving the house. I reminded my neurotic "it's rude to be late" self that it said drop-in (Chris reminded me too because I don't always like to listen to myself--which actually may be a good thing. Voices in my Head) We drove through the park--if you're married to someone from Louisville you HAVE to drive through the park no matter where you're going. This time it actually made sense as they live on the park, but I digress. We arrived and walked up the street as Chris said, "Let's not stay for hours; I'd like to watch a little football and relax before we go to the other party." (That can be read 'do not talk too much and look like the desperate person that is the last to leave'--yeah, that's the adolescent voice again!)
I walked in first, glanced in the living room and saw all WOMEN seated in chairs, on the sofa, and on the floor around a coffee table filled with fabulous nibbles. Laura, the hostess, walked over to me and I whispered, "I didn't know Chris wasn't supposed to come. I'll get him to go and get another ride home." Laura looked at me and didn't whisper as she said, "Of course he's supposed to be here." She led him over to the made by Tom and then fled from the house bloody marys (which indeed are as good as promised) and we joined the group. Most Chris knew either from church, one he'd known longer than he's known me, and former Collegiate moms and teachers.
The ladies made room for Chris on the couch and the conversation continued to flow. We talked religion, politics, current events and even about sex, and it seemed perfectly normal. There were no awkward silences, no pauses and changing of conversation because of the male in the room--the conversation, the laughter, the love just flowed--effortlessly. We'd been there about an hour when Ruth said, "It's time to eat." I also had missed the part that it was an actual meal and since we were there so late, I suspected Chris had already eaten, plus we'd both eaten plenty of the nibbles. I was completely full and I knew Chris probably was as well. As we headed for the dining room to fix our plates Sally said to Chris, "It's perfect you're here so you can have your hummingbird cake you didn't get last night at our house." Chris took the plate Sally handed him said, "I'm so glad I get some today" filled the plate with more food and we returned to the living room and more conversation. Around 4:15 I said, "We should go." As we were driving home I texted Callie (who couldn't be there because she was sick) and said, "Didn't know it was just women. Chris came." She responded, "I'm sure all were delighted." And you know I think they probably were--I also think if I'm not black balled after this major faux pas I won't bring him next year, but it's a story we'll tell for years. And the point of the story will be the incredible generous love and hospitality that we experienced.
I knew I would blog about this but I thought it would be on my other blog, you know the totally irreverent, only read if you are over a certain age, rated at lease PG13 if not beyond, Growing Up Doyle blog. But I keep thinking about these incredible women and their gracious loving hospitality. Their total acceptance of Chris into the group and how they went out of their was to make sure we felt comfortable and welcome and as though we both belonged. And while it is a funny story, and I suspect Chris will be teased by their husbands, the story isn't all funny--the story is sacred; it is holy. The holy found in the ordinary world of New Year's Day gatherings.
These women showed the unconditional love of Christ--the love we should all show every single person who walks into our homes and into our church buildings. The gracious hospitality we should show every person who comes to our altar, and the generous love and hospitality we should take from our altar out into the world. All are welcome; all are worthy; all are included; all belong.
As we walked back to our car Chris and I laughed and then he said, "But after the initial shock of being the only male there, it felt alright." May all whom we meet; may all who come to the table leave feeling alright and with the knowledge they too belong.
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