All It Took

All it took was a sigh. Tim Keller saw the story as a profound picture of longing, sacrificial love, and the worthiness of a king. And I don’t disagree, of course. But I also see it as the epitome of hospitality. The quintessence. The archetype. In fact, if hospitality is the most ancient of ministries, this was history in the making.

David was not yet reigning peacefully from Jerusalem. The Philistines had occupied his hometown of Bethlehem, and David was hiding out in a stronghold, likely a cave or desert fortress. It's bleak. The mood is dreary, intense, and heavy with conflict. These were not pretty palace days. In the words of Sylvester Stallone, life wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. These were mean, nasty survival days.

One night, David said under his breath, “Oh, that someone would give me water to drink from the well by the gate of Bethlehem.”

Ok. Pause it there. Do you ever long so hard or thirst so much for something, if you will, that your mouth is forced open by a thought, your chest rises and with an exhale comes a verbal abundance of your heart? Happens to me from time to time. Happens to me a lot, actually.

Sigh…Man, I wish I could talk to Dad.

Sigh…If I could only be healthy again.

Sigh…I hope I sleep tonight.

Much like your deepest desires and mine, for David it wasn’t just thirst. That well of water represented home. Memories. Simple times. Peace. A clear conscience. David was remembering the taste of water before crowns.

Then came the sigh. (And the help.)

Three of David’s men heard him wishing for the impossible. Not ordinary soldiers, mind you. These were elite warriors, fiercely devoted to David. Without being told directly, the three broke through Philistine lines, fought their way into Bethlehem, drew water from the well at the gate, and then fought their way back out carrying it to David.

Now, to Will Guidara, author of Unreasonable Hospitality, that kind of response may have been truly unreasonable, but when someone calls for water, sometimes it calls for blood.

Tim Keller says of David, “He was not giving anybody a command, but he was just sighing deeply and expressing a desire.” David’s words were not an order. He was simply expressing a longing of the heart. I can just picture the soldiers catching each other’s glance when they heard what David wished for and then collectively realizing what their night would entail. And with a grin to boot. “Hold my wineskin.”

Then the dust being kicked up, their cloaks moving through enemy territory, the sound of combat, swords and shields. And a small container of water guarded like the treasure it was. Keller says, “Two of them probably had to be fighting people off while one was filling the water jug.” That has a Musketeers sort of flare to it, right? Fires me up.

You know, in estate management and our world of elite, radical hospitality, moments of need, expressed or unexpressed, happen all the time.

The second after a guest walks outside and shades his eyes from the sun, he’s being offered a cap, sunglasses and maybe a touch of sunscreen. Or when someone mentions the evening will be clear and filled with stars, a telescope somehow ends up on their balcony at turndown. Or a guest alludes to the best book they read as a child, but they’ve yet to find it anywhere in stores, (you get the idea.) And yes, all the time. Unreasonable is what we like to call Tuesday.

See, when a guest expresses a desire, it’s like Secretariat out of the gates at the Belmont or the waving of the green flag at Daytona. It’s the fuse-lighting, Mission Impossible opening sequence, and we’re all Ethan Hunt.

That’s also how we feel when we have guests at Jordan’s House.

If you can wow those you love or provide relief to someone in your care, you fight through enemy lines. In fact, I’m particularly motived personally by that part of the story. Those soldiers not only fought their way out of Bethlehem, but they had to fight their way in.

In many ways, we’re doing the same with our little ministry. Despite naysayers and enemies, unpredictable hurdles and overboard dreams, we continue to learn ways to educate people of the need of respite care for special needs parents, and for ways to make each weekend the best it can be at the beautiful Ruby Ranch.

This is us, (all of us), just living, working, shopping and worshipping right next to exhausted people. Of course, the goal is not to position caregivers or servants as heroic warriors. The goal is to recognize the sacred weight of what it means to serve weary people with excellence. But for parents carrying extraordinary responsibility, even small moments of rest become something like water from Bethlehem.