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It seems as if whenever I go home my mom’s cookies always taste better to me. Maybe just because she’s my mom and throws another pinch of love in there. Growing up I always admired my mom, and I still do. I would spend time in the kitchen with her baking, cooking, laughing, and learning. I look back at those moments and realize how defining those were to who I am today. I realized that where I spent the most time and where I learned the most was in the kitchen of my home. The kitchen held many conversations between family and friends and was always a home to laughter and to, oddly enough, cookie dough. When my friends came over they knew that, if there weren’t already cookies on the counter, they could open my freezer and find some cookie dough.


In the past couple years I identified and harvested my spiritual gift of hospitality. One of my favorite quotes and a model I like to live by is from an author named Shauna Niequist and says this: 

The heart of hospitality is about creating space for someone to feel seen and heard and loved. It is about declaring your table a safe zone, a place of warmth and nourishment.

For me hospitality is making others feel at home. Allowing them to feel safe, secure, relaxed and loved. In college people often seek places of refuge; places where they don’t have to worry about the hustle and bustle of everyday life and burdens that sometimes can feel a little too heavy. After identifying this about myself I realized my mom is the same way. She loves having people at the house and always desires to make them feel welcome. She wants to engage and to serve.

I feel as if my cookies are part of my hospitality, using them to feed and serve people.


Whenever people come to my house in college more often than not at some point in the visit they open the freezer and look for my cookie dough; it kind of just has become a thing. The other day I discovered I think I have an internal sensor that makes me desire to bake just when the cookie dough we already have is almost out. Just kidding. Well maybe I’m not.

So friends, count yourself special for being in on my secret. I urge you to invite others into your home- allow others to gather together over a warm treat for a time of sweet conversation.

xoxo, meg 

courtney wetzel