It seems my husband and I are in a season where the Lord is “making all things new.” We left all our furniture behind and moved into a new house in a neighborhood of new builds. Our yard was one of the first to get the “Owner Occupied!” sign posted out front, but there are more popping up everyday. As we meet our new neighbors on evening walks, we’ve kind of become the unofficial welcoming committee of two!
All this has me thinking about what hospitality will look like for us in this new season . It won’t look like the domestic diva who always has a new scrumptious recipe up her sleeve and warmly welcomes everyone into a home filled with tastefully curated liturgical year touches. I love visiting these types of homes, but that just isn’t “us.” Our meals and decor tend to be simple and efficient so we can focus our limited attention on what we have discerned God is calling us to.
Nor will it look like the vision I had of hospitality before infertility was part of our story. I used to imagine we would welcome people into a warm, bustling home filled with children, laughter, and the chaos of family life. Now I sometimes worry that our home is too tidy and quiet, lacking something essential for people to feel at home. I don’t want anyone coming in to worry that their children will make a mess – when in fact, I would kind of welcome it!
Whatever hospitality looks like for us – or for you – in this season, I’m sure it will be colored, to some extent, by the experiences that have shaped us along the path of infertility. The wounds have left some scars, but they have also created new openings in our hearts that allow us to welcome others in ways that may not have been possible otherwise.
We know the pain of waiting, hoping, and of often feeling like something is missing in our home and heart. We’ve experienced the ache of unmet desires, which has made us more attuned to the silent struggles others carry. We’ve felt the sting of seeing other families grow while our arms remain empty. In that place of deep longing, we’ve developed a deeper empathy for those who feel overlooked, isolated, or burdened. We can really see others, because we know what it’s like to feel unseen. We know the pain of waiting, so we can be compassionate companions to those who are also waiting in other areas of life.
Often, the most meaningful expressions of welcome come from a heart that’s simply open to others in our everyday encounters. Consider the places where you might find opportunities to practice hospitality in your day-to-day life as a couple. Here are a few practical ways we may be uniquely able to offer hospitality from the heart:
- Embrace the peace of your home. Our homes may not be filled with children, but they can still be filled with life and love. If your home is quiet and more easily tidied than it might be if you were picking up after little ones, perhaps you can offer it as a peaceful, relaxing place of respite for others. It might be exactly what someone needs in the midst of a hectic life.
- Be present to others. In a world filled with distractions, simply being fully present with someone — whether it’s a conversation over coffee or lending an ear to someone’s struggles — can be a powerful form of hospitality.
- Pray for others. Offering to pray for someone’s intentions – or even praying with them – brings Christ into our hospitality in a powerful way. It’s an invitation for God’s love to dwell in our midst.
- Welcome those who feel out of place. Whether it’s a new family at church, an elderly neighbor who may feel isolated, or friends who are going through their own struggles, we can be the one to notice and reach out in some way to let them know they aren’t alone.
Take it to prayer: Lord, make our hearts like yours: open to sharing our love and life with those around us. Help us to offer hospitality from the heart in our own unique ways, right where we are. Amen.
Cassi Durnan and her husband Ian live out their unique call to fruitfulness through radical availability to family, friends, and neighbors alike. They have been blessed to serve in their parish, diocese, and beyond through involvement with youth ministry, Catholic Engaged Encounter, and Springs in the Desert. Cassi is a speech-language pathologist who also holds degrees in Mental Health and Human Services and Theology from the Franciscan University of Steubenville. Although she is a true introvert and a confessed “word-nerd,” Cassi loves having deep, meaningful conversations about matters of the mind and heart.





I love this, Cassi! Thank you for sharing your wise perspective, which speaks to my heart, especially #1: “embrace the peace of your home.” God bless you!