Do You Make Room for Others?

I first read the term placemaker on Christie Purifoy’s Instagram account. Not long after, she wrote in a blog post, “When I say I am a placemaker, I am speaking of my life purpose, not only a season of life. I am also other things. A writer. A gardener. But for me these roles are wrapped up with one big thing I want to do with the rest of my life: I want to cultivate a place and share it with others.”

As soon as I read it I thought, This was Tom, my father-in-law. He made places for people in his heart and at their table, no matter what you brought with you—fears, strong opinions, different beliefs. Family members sometimes questioned his judgment on who stayed at their house and whether it was wise to go bail out a friend from jail.

Whenever I raised a concern about his decisions, he put his hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye, and said, “Terri, always err on the side of generosity and love.” Such open hospitality did cost them from time to time, when items came up missing, but I wonder if what he saw was the eternal gift of saying yes, making a place for others in his schedule, his home, and his heart.

Like gardening, placemaking takes time and intentionality.

We prepare the soil, drop the seeds, and tend the plants. We nourish the fruits and vegetables so that they produce the foods we savor. In order to accomplish this, we need to allow space for roots to grow and vines to sprawl.

As I look back to my father-in-law, he didn’t decide one day to be generous like a task he could check off once completed. He chose to follow Christ as a teenager. He studied the Bible. The words of Christ tilled the soil of his heart. He questioned what it meant to shine light in the dark world around him. He wrestled with what love looked like in each situation and took action on it, even though others questioned his decisions.

Even though Tom is no longer here, his legacy is a picture of a loving God, willing to seek and serve others.

It’s about hospitality, the reception we give to friends and strangers. But it’s also about more than how we welcome others or entertain them. It’s about the fact that we all have a calling to create space for others to grow, make mistakes, and learn. We have the opportunity to reveal the God who delights in each one of us, accepts us as we are, and forgives us no matter how we have sinned.

As I reflect on how Christ left his legacy of placemaking, I recall ways in which he accomplished this through his intentional acts of love and sacrifice.

Jesus Made Room for Interruptions

Jesus walks with a crowd on his way to the home of Jairus, whose only daughter lay dying. People press close, and Jesus stops as he feels power leave his body.

A woman who has been bleeding for twelve years reaches through the mass of people, through years of shame and physical separation, and touches the hem of his cloak.

Amidst a critical situation, one in which a girl is dying, Jesus makes room for the one who touches him.  He knows there is more at stake than just physical healing. She needs to be seen and known, not for her disease, but for herself.

“Daughter, your faith has made you well,” Jesus says.

Jesus Made Room for Changing Cultural Norms

Jesus eats with tax collectors. They are known for robbing and oppressing the people of their day. The Pharisees question his choice of company. They complain to the disciples, “Why do you eat and drink with the tax collectors and sinners?”

I wonder if today the people at Jesus’ table would be refugees, frightened girls at pregnancy clinics, prostitutes. As I meditate on the actions and heart of Christ, it seems that he knew that to help the oppressed he would also have to make room for those who were oppressing others, like Zaccheus. His love and acceptance, not for their sins and behaviors, but for their hearts, change the trajectory of their lives, as well as those around them.

Jesus Made a Place for Truth-Telling

In John 4, Jesus meets a woman at a well in Samaria. Strangely, it seems, he asks her to go get her husband. She tells him she doesn’t have a husband. In John 4:17, he replies,

“You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.”

Jesus knows that before he can restore her dignity and offer grace, the truth must come out. He already knows the truth, but she needs to be honest, for restoration begins with honesty. After Jesus tells her the things he knows about her and “all that she has ever done” she runs back to her community free of shame.

What comes to your mind as you think about the sacrificial ways Jesus made a place for others? How do you feel nudged by the Spirit to be a placemaker?

Terri Fullerton is a wife, empty-nest mom, and mentor who loves stories of redemption and things that are funny. She is currently working on her first book. Terri longs to encourage others to find hope and freedom through her writing about faith, family, hiking, and mental health at TerriFullerton.com.

Photograph © NordWood Themes, used with permission