Back in 2005, Nelson was on the leadership team of “The Wave USA,” a group of Youth With A Mission kids criss-crossing the country. After months of planning, they were bringing the message of Christ to state capitals (and many politicians), conducting intensive prayer ministries in each city.

Nelson called when they were about to pass by Chicago, wondering if they might spend a few days with us for some badly needed R & R. Every exposure we’d ever had to WYAM-ers had been positive, and we were happy they wanted to come.

Several days later, a chunky bus and several vans pulled into our driveway on a hot July day, adding 28 newcomers to our family. Six bedrooms wasn’t nearly enough, but our guests arrived well prepared with sleeping bags, pillows, and a willingness to bunk anyplace, including the concrete basement floor. They insisted on bringing all their food and promised to do all the cooking, even for us!

YWAM-ers are an interesting crop of “kids” from all over the globe. Hearing their tales of the wondrous ways God had shown up in power, the amazing things they’d witnessed, was a shot in the arm. All that week I enjoyed spontaneous conversations with the 28, trying hard to memorize names and remember faces.

But then there was that one day. I needed alone-time, so grabbed my journal and Bible, but couldn’t find quietness anywhere. Small groups were praying, people were practicing instruments, doing laundry, planning ministry, reading aloud, preparing food, giving haircuts, napping on the lawn. And suddenly a week with 28 guests seemed like a bad idea.

I’m ashamed to say when Nate came home from work that day, I pulled him into a bathroom to privately whine and complain until his ears were probably burning. It was all about me.

I’d forgotten what Jesus had instructed about strangers: warmly inviting them was like inviting him. (Luke 25:35) Those 28 YWAM-ers qualified as strangers, but my attitude was anything but welcoming. God had created the perfect opportunity for me to win his approval, but as it was, I deserved a rebuke.

The day before they departed to resume “The Wave” they said, “Tomorrow you should go out for a few hours. We want to bless you with a thoroughly clean house before we leave.” They wouldn’t allow me to help and silenced my protests.

When I returned, they were putting furniture back, having moved all of it to wash/vacuum behind and beneath, a job I hadn’t done in years. After I’d waved them out of the driveway, I stepped into my sparkling home and discovered they’d left all their extra food for us, too. “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink.”

Guess who won God’s approval that day.

“Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers [or sisters] of Mine…, you did it to Me.” (Matthew 25:40)