There’s something deeply meaningful about being invited out. So often, I find myself in the role of the initiator—reaching out, planning, making sure time is set aside to enjoy relationships. And while I love doing that, there’s a special kind of blessing in being on the receiving end of an invitation.
Recently, after a high-stress season—three or four months of navigating personal and relational challenges—I found myself bracing for the next issue, the next thing that needed attention. It’s funny how the mind can get wired that way, always on edge, expecting another shoe to drop. But instead, something refreshing happened.
I was invited.
Not for a meeting, not to solve a problem, not to handle a crisis—just to share life. To spend time with someone who doesn’t walk in my daily rhythms but wanted to include me in theirs. It was a simple invitation, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline.
I know the joy of bringing people together, of making sure others feel seen and included. It’s part of who I am. But being on the receiving end reminded me how much we all need to have our own cup filled too. There’s a different kind of refreshment that comes when someone else does the reaching, when they extend the hand and say, “Come join me.”
It’s easy to think of invitations as small things, but they hold great power. They say, You matter. I want you here. You’re not forgotten. In a season where stress had taken up too much space in my mind, this simple act of inclusion reminded me how much I needed it.
So today, I’m thankful. Thankful for the moments when others take the initiative. Thankful for the joy of connection that asks for nothing in return. Thankful for the reminder that sometimes, the best thing we can do is simply invite—and be invited.