We've had guests in town the last few weeks.  Some for an evening, some for a week and one for two and a half weeks.

I've loved it.  And I've cursed it.

Guests bring an extra energy to the home - an extra voice to the conversation and tone to the laughter.  They bring different perspectives on how to chop an onion, or choose a paint color.

But they can also bring exhaustion - adding tiresome energy and perspectives you could've done just fine without.  They can bring more work, at times, and for me, at least more temptation to "entertain." 

en-ter-tain - [en-ter-teyn] - verb 1. to hold the attention of pleasantly or agreeably; divert; amuse.

The mere thought of guests awakens my drive to entertain.  And in our fast-paced, high volume, highly visual culture, that's hard work.  Holding people's attention, or dutifully assuring their amused well-being is an impossible feat, and yet we (women, especially) still shoot for it.  We try to go faster, produce more and create better.  And in doing so, run ourselves into the ground, and run highly antithetical to mankind's make-up.  We aim to perfect our entertaining, at the cost of being with and participating in the lives our guests. 

The thing is, entertaining isn't all bad, I'm learning, but it's also a fragile good.  The mere word has morphed a good bit in this century.  Introductions of television and Internet lent the likes of Carol Brady and Real Simple to set standards for how a house should be decorated, or what one must do to host acceptably.

Generally speaking, guests are a gift to be hosted, not a short-lived presence to be entertained.  That said, I think there are times for entertaining.  There are times for spoiling guests with pleasure and diversion from their day-to-day lives.  We host a weekly meal and Bible Study in our neighborhood and I love offering a clean home, unique centerpiece and tasty food.  But too often, for me at least, these noticeable diversions from most folks' busy lives, can bleed into an expectation for myself, or whomever enters my space.  Too often my idea(l)s of entertaining coerce me toward flashy amusements, drawing attention away from the relational and toward the external.  Too often I find myself stuck aiming for an immaculate facade of a perfect home and permanent smile.