After a traumatic event in my ministry career, I found myself without a job, without motivation, and without a clear sense of what God had next for me. My wife and I sold our home in Waco and moved to Marble Falls, Texas. We were blessed to live with dear friends who opened their home to us, and my wife quickly found a position with the school administration. For the moment, we were safe.
But safety and purpose are not always the same thing.
As the days passed, I could feel depression quietly moving in. The loss of ministry, the uncertainty of the future, and the questions that had no answers weighed heavily on me. Every morning felt a little harder than the one before.
We had attended First Baptist Church Marble Falls from time to time and enjoyed being there. One morning, as my wife was leaving for work, she looked at me and could see the discouragement written all over my face. Before walking out the door, she told me she was going to pray that God would do something that day to change my circumstances.
Then came the interruption.
That morning I had an appointment to meet with Pastor Ross Chandler. When I arrived, he welcomed me as though we had known each other for years. As we sat down in his office, he asked a simple question:
“How can I help?”
After I briefly shared the painful circumstances that had brought me there, he looked at me and said something I desperately needed to hear.
“I love you as a brother in Christ.”
What happened next was hospitality at its finest. It was Jesus with skin on.
Pastor Ross didn’t simply offer a quick prayer and send me on my way. He offered something much deeper. He offered his presence. He offered his time. He offered his heart.
He wrapped his arms around me, hugged me, and told me that his office was open to me anytime. If I needed a place to sit, think, read, pray, or simply be around people, I was welcome.
That single act of hospitality became something far greater than either of us could have imagined.
Within days I was sitting in staff meetings. I was joining the team for lunch. I attended staff retreats. I found myself surrounded by people who genuinely cared about me, encouraged me, and believed in me when I was struggling to believe in myself.
Then came another interruption.
One Sunday evening, my wife and I attended a church family meeting. We were there simply to listen and learn more about the church. During the meeting, Pastor Ross stood before the congregation and announced that he wanted to bring me on staff as a part-time Assistant Business Manager.
I was stunned.
As I sat there beside my wife, tears filled my eyes. I fought hard to keep my emotions in check, overwhelmed by what I was experiencing.
Just months earlier, I had been discouraged, depressed, and wondering if I would ever serve in ministry again. Now I was being welcomed into a church family that didn’t just talk about love—they demonstrated it.
That is the power of hospitality.
Hospitality is not a feeling.
It is not a personality trait.
It is not simply being friendly.
Hospitality is love in action.
It is seeing someone who is hurting and refusing to walk past them.
It is making room for someone who feels forgotten.
It is offering hope to someone who has run out of it.
Hospitality has the power to interrupt fear, depression, anxiety, loneliness, and despair. It reminds people they are seen, valued, and loved.
I will never forget what Pastor Ross and the people of First Baptist Marble Falls did for me during one of the most difficult seasons of my life.
Their hospitality didn’t just change my circumstances.
It changed me.
And that is exactly what hospitality does. It interrupts lives in the most beautiful way possible.
“Never underestimate what God can do through a simple act of hospitality. The interruption you offer today may become the turning point in someone else’s story.”
Rick Cadden
