It’s Not About the Pie. Nicki Corinne White

It’s Not About the Pie - Nicki Corinne White


Скачать книгу
some have entertained angels without knowing it.” Maybe an angel was

      eating the drumstick—I’ll never know until I get to Heaven.

      When I got married, I was very excited to have a home to invite others to enjoy.

      We were married when my husband was still in college. Our small duplex was

      so tiny it had no eating area, and for a long time, we had no sofa or chair to sit

      on. So, when we invited five other couples over for dinner, I had to get “crafty”

      and solve my entertaining problem. I had a couple of folding tables and folding

      chairs so I would set up tables. There wasn’t much room, but I was very happy to

      be able to do that and thoroughly delighted when a good time was had by all—it

      was the fellowship, not the floor plan, people remembered. It was March, so in the

      St. Patrick’s Day holiday mindset, I made corned beef. I was surprised that about

      half my guests had never had it. It was such a fun evening, even though it was so

      cramped. I had a tablecloth I had gotten for our wedding and two candlesticks.

      We were so young, and I was so thrilled to have friends over and delighted what a

      success our evening was.

      Soon after Craig graduated, we moved into a 750-square-foot triplex. Woohoo!

      I was moving up! By then, I was very much into decorating. Art is my thing, and

      color is very important to me. I made many things for that little home that we

      lived in for those five years. Our place also had a little backyard and garage! With

      such an abundance of space, we entertained even more, often having friends over

      20

      at least a couple times a week. We had a hide-a-bed so that people could come

      from out of town and stay with us in that little place. Three kids later, we decided

      a move was in order. We needed more space, Craig had a job transfer, and we

      found ourselves in Boise, Idaho.

      We looked at about twenty-five homes in Boise over three days. One of the last

      homes we saw felt best for us. The price was right, it had a great floor plan, and

      it was brand new! I had not grown up with a nice home—certainly not new. I

      somehow felt it was wrong. I now know that is not true, but at the time, I was not

      sure about it. We were out to breakfast with our pastor, who I knew from growing

      up in Washington, and he was encouraging when he said, “Some people use their

      homes for others. It’s been given to you. I know you will use it.” God speaks in

      different ways; we certainly felt peace about buying that house after that word from

      our pastor. If we hadn’t, we certainly would have missed out on all the fun we had

      decorating that lovely home inside and out, including many happy hours spent

      learning more about landscaping. Having grown up in Washington State where

      everything just grows and there is vegetation everywhere, I had no clue that a green

      thumb in Idaho was a lot more complicated than in Washington, and had to learn

      the hard way about soil amendments and planting everything in the yard. Here in

      Idaho, we have hard-as-a-rock clay soil. I had never encountered this before. Why

      could I not put my shovel into the dirt? The first day at it, I only got about three

      feet dug up. A neighbor came over and explained. He said I would need a tiller and

      all sorts of bags of soil amendment. I wanted to have people over, so we worked

      hard. We were overrun with morning glory and thistles, but we tried to keep a

      handle on it.

      21

      My new friend Ann came by with her tiller and showed me how to till my flower

      beds. She was a selfless person who befriended me early on. She watched my

      newborn son for me and worked on art projects with me. It was wonderful to have a

      young woman connect with me in that first year when I did not know many people.

      Another child and a dog added to our family, and we wanted more space to

      run around, so after six years, we looked again to move closer to Craig’s work.

      We began looking for land to build on with bigger lots. We found a lot a mile

      from Craig’s work. Since it was a new subdivision and they were anxious to

      have someone finally live there, we got a deal on it and on building the house.

      We remained there for eighteen years. I mention those little family details,

      as it’s important to remember that family life goes on as you are decorating,

      working, landscaping, and everything else that’s so essential to “living” these

      days. Hospitality is a mindset—a “heart-set,” really—and it should be an all the

      time thing. Saying hello, holding the door for someone loaded down, petting a

      dog, offering a smile or compliment when the occasion permits—all are ways of

      ministering hospitality and cost us nothing!

      This latest new home was my dream home, and it soon became a hub of activity.

      We had more space, so we had more variety in how we could be hospitable. Our

      new basement allowed us to host missionaries, kids from singing groups, and

      anyone in need of a place to land for a couple weeks. We could take people in, and

      by allowing them to stay with us, we shared our heart of hospitality with them.

      One of the sweetest times was when my youngest daughter, Brianna Mae, asked if

      her friend Adrian could stay with us during spring break from college. She came

      22

      and she stayed, and she became “our Adrian.” She fit right in and became like

      another daughter. She is still dear to my heart. Who would’ve dreamed that one

      spring break hospitable act would end up blessing us for a lifetime? God certainly

      does work in mysterious ways.

      Ever travelled much? Ever worried about where you could do laundry? Our new

      home allowed us to extend hospitality with our washer and dryer. When travelers

      came through, I always wanted to let them know they could come and go as they

      pleased. I encouraged them to use our laundry room if need be and to make

      themselves at home.

      After five years in this home, Craig


Скачать книгу