21 Years Later: More Than What We Do

Hey Beloved,

Happy Thursday.

September 12 is a special day for me, but before I get into that, let me share a couple of fun things I’m up to this week that I’m excited about.

Today, I’m speaking at the Eugene Young Professionals Summit, where I’ll share stories and ideas about cultivating hospitality in the places we live, work, and play. And this weekend, I’m flying out to New York City for The Welcome Conference, hosted by Will Guidara—author of Unreasonable Hospitality. This is an event I’ve wanted to experience for a few years now, and I’m wildly stoked to be there.

It’s amazing to reflect on how a small curiosity about hospitality years ago has led to this moment. From speaking to a group of leaders in my local community to traveling across the country to connect with others who are further along in their journey of hospitality—I’m just incredibly grateful today.

Speaking of many years ago, let me share why this random day in September holds so much significance for me…

September 12, 2003: A Lesson in Identity

21 years ago today, I was a high school senior out of Coos Bay, Oregon, lying in a hospital bed after suffering a wild injury during a football game. It is where I found myself for five weeks, undergoing 10+ surgeries with metal rods sticking out of my leg, and trying to figure out what was next for my life.

It was not on the bingo card for how I expected my last year of high school to look by any stretch of my imagination.

I don’t celebrate this day because of what happened—not because of the injury, and definitely not because of the pain and complications I still have to this day.

I celebrate it because of the profound reminder it offers about the gift we receive when we choose to say NOT, “It is what it is,” but instead, “It is what you make of it.” When we realize life is far more than what happens to us and a lot more about the response we have to it.

That injury was my first real lesson in identity. During those long days in the hospital, I came across the writings of Henri Nouwen, a theologian and professor who talked about the 3 big lies we tend to believe about our identity:

1. I am what I do—Before the injury, I would’ve told you I was a football player.

2. I am what I have—In my case, I had a good arm.

3. I am what others say about me—People would say, “He’s a leader on the field.”

But then life happened. And those things disappeared.

The question I had to ask myself was: Who am I?

A Yearly Reminder: You Are More Than What You Do

So every year on September 12, with a still-gimpy, salvaged left leg and ongoing pain, I get to remember and celebrate this truth:

I am not just what I do. I am not just what I have. And, regardless of whether people speak well or poorly of me, I am more than what others say about me.

And may it be so with you.

You are more than what you do.
You are more than what you have.
And you are certainly not defined by what others say about you.

Hospitality Begins With Ourselves

As I think about hospitality, I believe there’s something crucial we often overlook: in order to truly be hospitable to others, we first need to be hospitable to ourselves.

Hospitality isn’t just about welcoming others into our homes or businesses; it’s about creating space within ourselves to acknowledge our worth, accept our struggles, and extend grace to our own hearts. It’s recognizing our innate belovedness, not just in how we treat others but in how we treat ourselves.

The truth is, if we don’t practice hospitality toward ourselves—if we don’t acknowledge our own belovedness—we won’t have much left to offer those around us. We’ll burn out. We’ll feel depleted. And we’ll miss out on the depth of connection and belonging that true hospitality creates.

So thank you for letting me celebrate this day with you. It’s a day that reminds me of that being rooted in who we truly are, not in what we do, what we have, or what others think.

As we go forward this week, let’s remember to extend hospitality not just outward but inward.

Because, in the end, hospitality begins when we recognize that we are already welcomed at a table set by the Divine, where we are seen, loved, and accepted just as we are.

With gratitude,

Nathan