Whatever gifts had been given me, I was always pretty sure hospitality was not one of them.
I figured this out early on in our marriage, when the thought of anyone entering our apartment made me choke up with anxiety. When we did have people over, I never thought to offer anything. I felt all cramped up inside. I didn't think of how they felt, because I was so consumed with my own anxiety. It took all my energy just to "entertain" them.
People would invite us over for dinner.
We were nearly always unable to extend the invitation.
I figured hospitality was something I would have to work at.
I also figured that maybe I was just too introverted to have company over. Ever.
But now living in our own home, it's like I've suddenly discovered the joy of hospitality.
Who knew all it took was having your own space?
...or time to unwind without anyone around?
Who knew that maybe -- for some people (ahem - for this person) -- the circumstances around them affected whether or not they would be able to be hospitable?
Now I'm discovering that not only can I be hospitable, but I want to be -- I enjoy it -- I long to do it. And ever since we moved into this house, we've had people in and out like crazy.
And this introvert is actually enjoying it.