Radical Hospitality

It's ironic, considering that a couple of Fridays ago on the weekly RevGalBlogPals quiz I let you in on my basically introverted, Lone Ranger self -- but I am about to embark on a gig as co-hostess of a party. A party consisting mainly of people I don't know.

Fellow Traveler and I are throwing a potluck for women in our general neck of the woods with whom we've been networking online...geographically scattered women, single and partnered, who are just looking for some support and connection in a nice, safe, affirming atmosphere. We are providing a couple of cool-weather entrees, and inviting our guests to round out the menu with a dish to pass; we have a big-screen TV for the big game, and a card table in the next room for the euchre crowd. (Just for the record, I have made it known that I will not be among the card players...which should evoke sighs of relief across mid-Michigan. I've found that behavior I can get away with while watching sports -- repeatedly falling asleep, getting poked awake and mumbling, "Huh? Whaaa? Who's winning? Oh -- okay...snork" -- doesn't go over well at a card table, especially with one's card partner.)

The response has been amazingly positive -- amazing considering that these are people who, upon receiving a mysterious e-mail from two strangers inviting them to a party in some faraway community (everywhere seems far away from Outer Podunk), have trusted us enough to say, "Okay -- I'll be there." As far as that goes, we've had our own living-in-the-leap experience in deciding to embark on this adventure, offering hospitality to people outside our circle of friends, whose relationship to us is as tenuous as a couple of e-mail exchanges. FT and I sense that our little fall soiree is meeting a need in our area, and even though we're having some Lucy and Ethel moments as we work out the party preparations, we're looking forward to doing this. I don't want to get too theological about it, but this feels like a good place to be -- inviting strangers to our table.