Wage Welcome, Not War

a prayer as we enter a season of gathering

Here we are, heading into the holidays full force. 'Tis the season of gathering around tables, carrying plates heaped high with mashed potatoes, turkey, and dressing (or stuffing, depending on where you are in the world). 'Tis the season of sipping sparkling grape juice or drinking from the boxed wine Aunt Edna keeps in her fridge, clinking glasses in merriment yet silently praying the conversation won’t turn sour.

Dear God, please don’t let them ask about my job, or my relationship status, or how I voted in the last election.

Time with family and close friends can easily become a collision of past, present, and future, especially with people we have not seen in a while.

We regress to previous versions of ourselves or engage in the same circular conversations we had last year and the year before and the year before that.

“Oh, you’re a writer! So do you have a book?”

“No. Not yet.” Silence.

“Okay, so you are like a journalist. Do you work for a newspaper or magazine?”

“Nope.” More silence. A furrowed brow.

“So then what do you write?”

Deep sigh… Good question.

On one hand, the familiarity is comforting. If Uncle Jack didn’t show up wearing cowboy boots or no one brought corn casserole (a Midwestern must), I would not only notice but be disappointed. I look forward to the same people, the same questions, the same stories.

But being part of a family tree doesn’t mean those branches aren’t prone to breaking. For many, gatherings can be fraught with tension. We walk into the room with our differing opinions and beliefs, our fears and experiences, our wounds and our weaknesses. Holiday cheer does not check our histories at the door. One mention of the latest headlines or the results of the election, and conversations can turn. Feelings can be hurt. People we love can suddenly feel alone and out of place or backed into a corner.

So how do we gather amidst all this complexity?

As I contemplate what it looks like to gather (and to gather well), four words have been echoing inside me:

Wage welcome, not war.

The words aren’t magic. They’re not a fix-all. In many ways, I am still exploring them.

But what I know is that they keep me tender. These four words help me enter the room with eyes fixed outward instead of armed—to be more attentive, humble, ready to listen. They remind me to make room for the humanity of others without diminishing my own. Like Jesus, they invite me to spend more time sitting at tables than flipping them.

Remaining in this posture is not easy. It requires peace, patience, and wisdom far beyond us, so let me leave you with a prayer. I hope these imperfect words remind us of the complexity we all bring to the table, ourselves included. And in the days and weeks ahead, may they invite us to soften our gaze and sink down into the all-encompassing love of God.

grace + peace,
Sarah

***

Wage Welcome, Not War (a prayer)

God, you know my wounds and my weakness.
You alone have borne witness
To all that was, is, and is yet to be
In me and around me.

You know what makes my heart beat faster,
Whether from fear or wanting.
You are familiar with my fragility and my fire.

Remind me once again of your love.

In these days of gathering,
May the embers of your presence soften me,
Guiding me to wage welcome, not war.

And, God, if I am going to burn,
May I be more like a campfire than a torch,
Extending warmth without leaving a trail of ash.

Remind me once again of your love.

May all difference of opinion,
Clash in personality,
Old wounds that have yet to heal,
Fall away in this moment
So that I might see the person across the table
Through the lens of your infinite love.

And if it is too soon, too painful, too unsafe,
Help me remember your invitation to be still
And to hide myself beneath your folds,
To trust that your welcome is also for me.

Remind me once again of your love.

---

Good Things to Pick Up

a weekly short list pointing us to the goodness of God and warmth of his welcome

A Quote

“Curiosity keeps us tender to each other’s humanity.” —Grace P. Cho

A Recipe

I would be remiss if I did not share one of our family’s favorite recipes for holiday gathering. This wassail recipe has (clearly) been well-used and well-loved throughout the years. (Do you have a family favorite recipe? I’d love to know.)

A Friend to Follow

My sister Laura Pennington is more than an incredible interior designer who can set a artful table. She is a master gatherer of people, and every day I learn from her warm hospitality, compassion, and tenderness that flows into her relationships and her work.