Sometimes, the people you let into your life with open arms are the very ones who’ll knock the wind out of you. This is a story about friendship, or what we thought was friendship, and a hard lesson learned about trust, discernment, and inviting God into our decisions from the start.

Back when my wife was working at the local deaf school, she met a sweet kid that she would be working with as a 1:1. His parents had just moved here from a few states over. They didn’t know a soul, so naturally, my wife’s heart went out to them. Before I knew it, we were all hanging out. Weekends became double dates, evenings turned into late-night conversations. It felt like we were building something real.

But let me tell you, red flags are a funny thing. When you don’t have your spiritual radar on, they’re easy to miss. Anytime they acted a little off, we just shrugged it off as the slight age gap or blamed it on the fact that they were from way up north. What we should’ve done was pray for discernment. Spoiler alert: we didn’t.

Things took a weird turn when they tried to invite themselves on a private vacation we had planned, yes, our vacation. Like chased after us in their van 6 hours away from home. I had to drive down a one-way street the wrong way to hide behind a closed building to lose my tail. But that’s a story for a whole other post. Even after that, we kept them close because, well, they were coworkers and parents of the child my wife was working with. We didn’t want to stir the pot.

Then one day, everything exploded. Out of nowhere, these people, who we thought were friends, who we had bent over backward to help, who we had opened our lives and hearts to, turned on us like we were enemies. They accused my wife of some wild, baseless nonsense at her job, accusations so outlandish they could’ve been the plot of a second-rate Netflix show. It got so bad that not only was my wife’s job was on the line, but her entire career.

Let me tell you, nothing cuts deeper than betrayal of people you thought you could trust. We had spent months pouring into these people. We had been their friends when they had no one else, their support when they were lost in a new town. And this was the thanks we got?

Here’s the thing: hindsight’s 20/20, and looking back, there was one glaring issue from the start. We never invited God into that friendship. Don’t get me wrong we invited them to church, and we talked to them about God, but we never talked to God about them. Not once did we stop and pray for wisdom or ask for His guidance about how close to allow them in. When the little things felt off, we ignored the nudge to take it to God.

It wasn’t until the dumpster fire was lit that we finally turned to Him. And let me tell you, that’s a hard way to learn a lesson.

We walked away from that whirlwind with bruised hearts but stronger faith. We learned to open our lives to people but not without first seeking God’s wisdom. We pray for discernment, for protection, and for clarity. Because the truth is, not everyone who walks into your life is meant to stay.

And sometimes, the only way to see who’s really for you is to let God show you the truth.

In Joshua 9, we stumble into a hospitality drama packed with high stakes, deception, mercy, and a touch of divine providence. It’s a narrative that feels more like a modern-day drama than an ancient tale, and it’s brimming with lessons about the messy, beautiful complexities of opening our doors to others. Let’s unpack this encounter between the Israelites and the Gibeonites and see what it reveals about the joys and pitfalls of hospitality.

Picture this: the Gibeonites, sweating bullets after hearing how the Israelites had been steamrolling their way through Canaan, come up with a desperate plan. In Joshua 9:3-6, they go full cosplay mode, donning tattered clothes, dusty sandals, and packing moldy bread to pass as weary travelers from a far-off land. Their mission? Trick the Israelites into signing a peace treaty before anyone can say, “Wait a second, aren’t you our neighbors?”

This wasn’t a casual plea for help. It was a meticulously crafted con. The Gibeonites knew that in their culture, turning away a traveler in need was practically sacrilegious. By playing the part of pitiful wanderers, they tapped into the Israelites’ sense of compassion and hospitality, flipping the script with stale bread and Oscar-worthy acting.

The Gibeonites’ ploy highlights an uncomfortable truth: when we open our doors or our hearts, we’re taking a risk. The Israelites’ desire to help made them vulnerable, and their kindness was exploited. Yet, this reminds us that grace doesn’t come with guarantees. Hospitality always carries a chance that someone might take advantage of yo, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth extending.

Despite their divine directive to drive out the Canaanite nations, the Israelites fell for the Gibeonites’ Oscar-worthy performance. In Joshua 9:14, they made a critical error: they didn’t consult God. Instead of asking, “Lord, what do You think about these shabby travelers with questionable bread?” they trusted their own judgment. Big mistake.

This misstep highlights an essential lesson: discernment is a must in hospitality. The Israelites were right to want to show compassion, but compassion without wisdom can lead to a world of trouble. Their story serves as a divine reminder to never underestimate the importance of prayerful consideration in every decision, especially when it involves extending kindness to others.

Welcoming others is a noble act, but it’s not about throwing caution to the wind. True hospitality involves seeking God’s guidance. It’s about pairing grace with wisdom and ensuring that our actions align with His will.

When the Israelites discovered they’d been duped, they were understandably furious. The Gibeonites had lied through their moldy teeth, and the Israelites had every reason to annul the treaty. Yet, in a surprising twist, they honored their promise. The Gibeonites were spared but assigned to roles as woodcutters and water carriers for the community (Joshua 9:27).

Here’s the kicker: by keeping their word, the Israelites demonstrated a profound truth about hospitality. Even when trust is broken, integrity matters. Upholding the treaty wasn’t just about saving face; it was about remaining faithful to their commitments, even when it was inconvenient and uncomfortable.

True hospitality doesn’t end with the initial welcome. It’s about what comes next. Do we keep our promises? Do we follow through on our commitments, even when the situation gets messy? Hospitality isn’t just about opening doors; it’s about steadfastly nurturing relationships, even when things don’t go as planned.

The Gibeonites’ trickery serves as a cautionary tale: not everyone who seeks help is entirely honest. But it also teaches us not to let fear of being deceived close our hearts to others. Compassion and discernment can coexist. Instead of defaulting to suspicion, we’re called to seek a balance, help where we can; all while staying anchored in wisdom and prayer.

The Israelites were deceived, but their willingness to embrace strangers reflected God’s heart for hospitality. Every act of kindness carries a risk, whether it’s being lied to, taken advantage of, or simply inconvenienced. But the potential to reflect God’s love makes the risk worth it.

The Israelites were all in on showing kindness.  Big thumbs-up for their good intentions! Hospitality, after all, is about opening your life (and yeah, sometimes your fridge) to others. But here’s the kicker: good intentions need a little help staying on track. Enter the Gibeonites, who showed us why emotions and appearances shouldn’t be in the driver’s seat of decision-making.

 Here some real talk, whether you’re lending a hand to a neighbor or inviting someone new to your table, start with this: What’s really motivating me here? Genuine love or a “look good, feel good” moment? Am I stopping to pray and seek some divine direction before diving in?

So what happened with Joshua? He saw ragged sandals and crusty bread and thought, “Poor guys, let’s help them out!” Great heart, however, he skipped a big step, asking deeper questions as well as taking it to God. The Gibeonites played to his good intentions, and as for his discernment…..86 discernment.

Joshua messed up, but when the truth came out, he didn’t back out of the treaty. Even though it was founded on a lie, the Israelites honored it. Why? Because their word mattered more than saving face or taking the easy way out.

Here’s the Grit: Sometimes hospitality means stepping into the mess. If you’ve made a commitment, follow through, even when it’s a hassle. But also, let this be your cue to set boundaries so you don’t burn out or end up in a bind you could’ve avoided.

So how do we keep hospitality real without losing your mind?

Be Generous, But Guard Your Yes

Being hospitable doesn’t mean being a doormat. Boundaries protect your kindness from enabling bad choices or putting your own family in a tough spot. But that being said that doesn’t mean we are to turn off hospitality all together. You may have been hurt in the past, however work with God. Allow God to help heal the wound. We shouldn’t allow our safeguards to change our heart.

Pray Before You Proceed

Before saying “come on over” or signing up for that long-term project, hit pause. Pray. Ask God to show you the motives—yours and theirs—and to steer your steps. You might be the type of person that says yes to everything and you might be in risk of running yourself too thin. Or on the other side you might say no to everything and everyone and you never get the chance for God to allow you to grow in his work. Take time and pray and seek him. If you aren’t spending time and having hospitality with your Lord and building a relationship with him the roads in life can become very confusing. James 1:5 is your friend here

Don’t Fear the Follow-Up

Hospitality isn’t just about opening the door. It’s about understanding someone’s story and needs. Ask questions. Make sure you’re helping in ways that actually help. I have said it a thousand times and I will say it a million times more, Hospitality is at its core about building a relationship. If you build relationships, helping becomes very easy; once again HOSPITALITY IS BUILDING A RELATIONSHIP SO THAT YOU CAN HELP PEOPLE HEAL AND GROW.

Learn as You Go

Joshua got duped, but he learned. The Gibeonites became a headache, sure, but the experience taught Israel some tough lessons about wisdom and hospitality. Learn from your oops moments, but ONCE AGAIN, don’t let them harden your heart. It is easy to let fear of hurt make you turn your hospitality off to the world. That is not the purpose the Lord has given you we are called to be the salt of the earth and a light unto the world. Be wise, take it to God, even after you build a relationship with someone, pray on how best to help them. Most of all there is no African prince in need of your help bringing his money here use common sense along with prayer.

Hospitality is one of the clearest ways we can show God’s love. But it’s best served with a side of wisdom. Seek God’s guidance, lean into discernment, and don’t be afraid to ask hard questions. That’s how you strike the balance between kindness and caution.

Now it’s your turn: How do you balance opening your heart with guarding it wisely?

When the Israelites chose to honor their treaty, they prioritized integrity over convenience. In our lives, extending hospitality means standing by our commitments, even when it’s uncomfortable or inconvenient. It’s about being faithful to our word, just as God is faithful to His promises.

Joshua 9 paints a vivid picture of hospitality in all its messy glory. It reminds us that opening our doors means navigating trust, risk, and grace. Hospitality isn’t about perfection; it’s about faithfulness. It’s about showing kindness to strangers while seeking God’s wisdom and embracing the beautiful chaos of building relationships.

So, as we extend hospitality to others, let’s do so with open hearts and open eyes. Let’s welcome others with grace, guided by discernment, and rooted in integrity. Because you never know who might knock next; perhaps a weary traveler, or maybe someone carrying a loaf of moldy bread, or an Angel in disguise Hebrews 13:2 “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” Now that is a story that could change everything.

Stay Salty My Friends.