Unexpected Hospitality: Serving at 30,000 Feet
by Beth Nelson
“When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality” (Romans 12:13 NLT).
I like to host. I learned about hospitality by watching my mom welcome people around our dining room table. That table held more than food—it held elbows, coffee rings, and conversations stretching long past dessert.
Somewhere along the way, my vision of hospitality became tainted. Social media shows perfectly styled entryways and untouched tables, and I’ve allowed it to make the practice of welcoming others into our home feel unattainable. Yet Romans 12:13 offers something simpler: Be ready to help.
Christian hospitality centers on the guest—their needs, their burdens, their hearts—not a perfectly set table or decorated home.
And it doesn’t require a dining room. I learned that unexpectedly on an airplane.
I was flying home from a work assignment, facing the longest leg of my trip—two and a half hours in the air—and I had downloaded several episodes of a favorite comedy. Laughter is my travel companion of choice.
I settled into my seat—AirPods connected.
Then I heard her.
Three rows ahead, a woman’s voice carried down the aisle. Her complaints about the airline—and seemingly life in general—grew louder as she approached. I silently prayed, Please don’t let her sit next to me.
She did.
The anger on her face matched the sharpness in her tone as she slid into the seat beside me. My first internal reaction wasn’t charitable: Well, this should be fun.
At first, I felt self-righteous in my calmness compared to her agitation. But then another thought surfaced: I can choose whether her mood controls mine.
I decided it wouldn’t.
AirPods in. Comedy on. I was determined to guard my peace.
Mid-flight, the refreshment cart rolled down the aisle. I overheard the flight attendant mention they were out of chocolate snacks. I wondered if this might reignite my seatmate’s frustration.
It did.
When she asked specifically for chocolate and was told none remained, her irritation flared again. I stayed focused on my show, occasionally giggling out loud.
Apparently loud enough for her to turn abruptly. “What is it you’re watching that’s so funny?”
My mind raced. Is she annoyed with ME?
I have a quick wit and, if I’m honest, a streak of feistiness. Part of me was ready to respond with a bit of sarcasm.
I felt the Holy Spirit interrupt my internal narrative: Soften your spirit. Keep your peace.
I took a breath, removed my AirPods, and turned slowly toward her with a smile. I explained that I intentionally download comedies for long flights because they help me stay joyful when travel feels draining.
As I spoke, I sensed the Spirit nudging me: Be gentle. Be kind.
As she began to talk, her complaints about boarding resurfaced, and her tone gradually shifted from sharp to heavy. The story unraveled from carry-on luggage into deeper frustrations. Packing struggles led to tension with her husband. Relational tension led to broader disappointments. Underneath the irritation was hurt.
And the Spirit whispered again: Just keep listening.
So, I did.
I didn’t offer quick fixes. I didn’t correct her tone. I simply nodded, maintained attentiveness, and let her empty what she’d been carrying. Gradually, her words moved from surface annoyances to deeper aches.
I felt compassion so strong it startled me when she spoke about the struggles with her daughter. This wasn’t about airline snacks. This was about a weary heart.
With a quiet pause, I turned, put my hand on her forearm, and asked a gentle question for clarification. Then, feeling another nudge of courage, I asked if I could place her situation on my prayer list.
It was as though I watched a physical transformation. Her posture relaxed. Her face softened. The sharp edges in her voice dissolved. For the remainder of the flight, she continued sharing—but now with vulnerability instead of animosity.
When we landed and I stepped onto the tarmac, I remember thinking, Wow, Lord. That was a lot.
I was physically drained but felt spiritually full. What had happened felt like hosting. No table, no meal, no polished presentation. Yet something nourishing had been offered.
Christian hospitality had taken place in seat 14A.
Romans 12:13 calls us to be ready—eager even—to practice hospitality. Not just when it’s convenient. Not only when our homes are tidy, or our energy is high. But also when God places a need directly beside us.
Sometimes hospitality looks like a spread of food. Other times, it looks like removing your AirPods and offering a listening ear.
As fall approaches—a season of beautiful tables and gatherings—perhaps we can widen our understanding of what hospitality truly means. God orchestrates our encounters more than we realize. The woman in the grocery line. The coworker who lingers at your desk. The stranger assigned the seat next to you.
Sometimes hospitality looks like a spread of food. Other times, it looks like removing your AirPods and offering a listening ear.
Hospitality is less about what we serve and more about how we serve. It is the willingness to interrupt our plans, soften our instincts, and make room for another’s story. It is choosing compassion over convenience—presence over performance.
Sometimes we never know how far a listening ear or a simple offer of prayer travels in someone’s life. But we can trust that when we respond to the Spirit’s nudge, Christ Himself is made visible.
Where else can you practice hospitality in your life?
Scripture reference is from the New Living Translation of the Bible.
Congratulations to Beth Nelson for winning the Compel Pro Writer Challenge with The Truly Co.
Beth Nelson loves to share about bold faith, leadership, and no-nonsense encouragement for real life in her Instagram series Coffee Break with Beth! @banelson91
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