Front Porch Living

The fascinating thing about where I grew up is you never knew who would show up at your house. I lived on a dirt road and we knew most of our neighbors. As kids, we would be playing in the yard and a neighbor would walk through the woods to come over and visit with my parents. He might ask my dad to borrow a tool or lend him a hand as he put some type of equipment on the back of a tractor.

Mr. White lived at the end of the road and loved to fish. He would go fishing on Lake Lanier every week and set out lines for catfish. He would freeze the fish, and once a year, have a huge fish fry. The whole neighborhood would show up. On the other end of the street, we had a hog farmer. Every year, he would dig a big hole in the ground, throw in a layer of hickory wood and charcoal, and put the dead pig in the hole and cook it all night. The next day, he would invite the neighbors over for a BBQ.

We don’t do much front porch living these days. Maybe we are too busy running from point A to point B. We come home exhausted, too tired to entertain. I think it is deeper than that. I think part of the struggle we face today is that we are afraid. We live in a culture of fear. We fear the unknown. And since we fear the unknown, we refuse to get to know the unknown. We have been taught not to trust anyone. We are fearful that people will take advantage of our good nature. We have a politics of fear. We have a culture of fear. We teach our kids to fear the stranger and it carries over into adulthood.

By refusing to get to know our neighbors, we miss out on some of life’s great blessings. The letter of Hebrews says, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it (13:2).” I would hate to know that I missed out on an opportunity to be blessed because I refused to have a welcoming attitude.