Arising early in a charming B&B in Gananoque, Ontario, I sat with tea and my journal in the living room until I felt the need to counteract my slothful weekend with some exercise. So, I am on a brisk march through an unfamiliar town when I find my first bench.

Clearly, this was created by an adult with a sense of whimsy. A bottle of Pinot Grigio is nestled between the Barbies.

I love benches. They symbolize both individuality and welcome. They speak about the owner while also inviting passersby to come and rest. They bid us to enter into a unique view of the world and sit for a while. Or, in the case of this bench, park it.

Hospitality is so important that not less than three New Testament writers command us to do it. Having just spent a weekend at my cousin’s cottage, I know the power of an open-hearted welcome. It’s enveloping. The sweetness comes not just from a treat like homemade butter tarts -- a classic Canadian dessert devoid of any nutritional value (read: I love them) -- but from the opportunity to see others as they are. Without the screen of social media filters. Or the superficiality of required church-service handshakes.

It’s hard to get to the second layer of people’s lives, where side interests dwell. And stories. Or, perhaps, passions that have been crowded out by having to get a real job.

By the time I find my last bench, I’m inspired. Encouraged. The message on the pillow reminds me that in the more relaxed pace of summer, opportunities open up for interactions. This is a good time to open our home and connect.

To slow down enough to sit a spell. And listen.

Lord, make our lives like a bench: an open invitation to others, a constant welcome. Just like you did for us, help us to draw others in, willing to know and be known. Make us people who envelope others in your love.