Someone stole my pineapple. Wow, that sounds more ridiculous than I thought... Yes, someone stole my 68lb, solid concrete pineapple right off the top of my mailbox. It just vanished one night. When I told people that it was stolen, I cried. Now those that do not know me thought I was a little strange but anyone that knows my family well knew what I was talking about. We are the house on the right with the concrete pineapple on the mailbox.
The pineapple is the universal sign for hospitality. Did you know that? Christopher Columbus was the first one to give account to the symbol. The symbol conveys the feeling of welcome and safety. It says, "Welcome to my home. Please come in and join us." At least that is the southern version. And I knew what the symbol meant. That is why it sat on top of my mailbox.
We needed a house with a guest bedroom on the main floor. My daddy couldn't be left alone anymore and mom needed a place without steps or any extra confusion when they came to visit. They always spent holidays at my house and it was getting harder to all stay in one area with the crowded feeling and confusion that came along with that for all of us. So Danny and I prayed for the perfect house that met all of our needs and that kept us in the same school district. We agreed to use our home for Him as a ministry however that ended up looking. God answered and we moved a few streets over into this house. We knew that it was an answer to prayer.
We closed on this house on my 34th birthday. The girls started school the following Monday. My beloved grandmother died the next week. The busyness of Fall took over along with all of the emotions of moving and settling into a new home. I begin to forget that this was a provision and blessing from the Lord. This house was bigger and harder to keep clean and straight. There was always something that I thought needed to be done to make it better. The kitchen needed to be updated. The garage always seemed to be a mess. It just was too hard to make it look just right for us to have a small group meet here or to have dinner guests or even for spend the night parties for the girls. My life felt out of control. I loved being a part of all of those things. As long as they weren't at my house.
One day a friend of mine told me about her morning devotion. It was about the gift of hospitality and the story of the pineapple. 1 Peter 4:9 in the amplified Bible reads like this - "Gladly open your homes and welcome each other as guests, especially those who need a meal or a room overnight - and don't complain about the inconvenience." I learned that day that hospitality is expected from all believers but that it also is a gift of the Spirit. I remembered our prayer about this house. And the conviction hit hard. Things needed to change.
My fears of what people would think of my home or that it didn't quiet look trendy enough or it was not decorated just right came crashing in. I am not a home decorator. It is not something that was ever that important to me. My home is simple. Clean and comfortable but nothing special. I began to argue my point with the Lord... but we need to finish the basement, my den isn't big enough for Bible study, the guest room is not really suited for anyone but family. He didn't seem to agree with me and before I knew it my father-in-law showed up with the concrete pineapple for my mailbox. Yes, God has a sense of humor!
So everyday that I pulled in and out of my driveway, I would see the pineapple and be reminded that the gift of hospitality comes with a Helper. I don't have to worry about my schedule or the condition of my house or how in the world I am going to be nice when I don't really feel like having a house full of people. If I just allow God to open my heart and love for me, then I can open my home and He will do the same.
It took a while but slowly we began to open our home. We hosted small groups. The girls had their friends over more. We had huge spend the night parties and celebrated with their LUG groups and D groups. I began to have a Bible Study every Wednesday night. When we gave directions to our home we all always said the same thing... it is the house on the right with the concrete pineapple on the mailbox.
When the pineapple was stolen it took me a few days to get over being mad and sad. But then the Lord gently reminded me about what the pineapple meant. He reminded me that it was not in my own strength or with my own love that I had learned to be hospitable. It was only by His strength and His love that I could open my home. My perspective returned.
This weekend my wonderful father-in-law showed up with another pineapple! Just like the old one. He put it back in its place on my mailbox. A symbol that our home is a gift from God. An answer to prayer. My earnest hope is that we will always treat it that way no matter how we feel or how tired we are or what the inside looks like.
If you ever want to visit us just come on over! We are the house on the right with the concrete pineapple on the mailbox.
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