More than a welcome mat... Part II

But Thou art holy, O Thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel

Psalm 22:3

He inhabits the praise of His people. He lives there. He dwells there.

He’s Home in the praises of His people.

That’s a big deal.

I’m struck by the idea of the holy, perfect, creator God inhabiting the praise from this broken vessel.  Being Home in me.

To be welcomed is to know you belong and to feel at home. Think about it – how many of us decide if we’ll join a church based on the greeting at the door? One awkward glance or cold shoulder and we feel isolated, invisible and homeless. We need to be welcomed.

You don’t have to earn welcome. There are no-prerequisites. That goes against the design. Welcome is a gift.

I only had a few weeks to visit Lifa and my family before leaving for a two-month outreach. I stole as many kisses and moments as possible on Wednesday’s feeding and looked forward to greeting and loving the family at church every Sunday.

Two months later, when I showed up at church in Mbonisweni again, not knowing what to expect, I was bombarded with welcome. Everyone in the church remembered my name. They hugged and greeted and loved like I never could have expected.

When I greeted my GoGo, she held me so tight, kissed me on the neck and told all the other GoGo’s with wild gestures and huge eyes that I was HER child. Over and over again in SiSwati she said, “MY child. MY child. MY child.”

The twins, Samkelo and Bongani, RAN to me, dancing, jumping and shouting their rendition of my name like the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard, “Kacely, Kacely, Kacely!”

Zodwa, Prudence and Sharon hugged, kissed and acted like we never missed a beat. Went straight to the present and talking about how the day was.

Tsthepiso and Lifa were shy. Hiding behind legs and batting those eyelashes. Oh those perfect eyelashes. It didn’t take long for me to become Tsthepiso’s human jungle gym again, but I could see a painful reservation in Lifa.

I had loved him. Built trust with him. Held him so often.

And then I left.

That had happened in is story before. And it didn’t work out well.

I was crushed.

And, somehow, loved him more than before. 

Welcome felt different for Lifa. Welcome had to be an ongoing, continuous message of belonging. His story is different. He needs a different kind of welcome. We all have our own kind of welcome. And God knows them all and the stories that shape them. He created us to be a family to know each other and to meet those personal and valid needs to be welcomed.

It’s part of His image. He longs to be welcomed too. He longs for your praises. He longs for your voice. Your heart. Your passion. Your energy. Your everything. He lives there.

Jesus taught us how to pray a prayer of welcoming His Kingdom to earth and His power to create families amongst us. (Matthew 6:10)

Let’s start welcoming God into our stories by living as a family where every one of every tribe and every tongue belongs. I get to live that here in Mbonisweni with the cutest GoGo and my perfect Lifa. And, I’m telling you, it’s worth it.

I want you to know that you are welcomed into my family here and you belong in the Family of God.  No matter what you’re story, past, present and future…

You are welcome. And we love you.