It’s Friday, and time has flown by. I feel a bit disappointed because the stuff I wanted to do during my spring break didn’t happen. This whole week I had off for spring break, from teaching at the university, and I had planned to use the time to have the house to myself, enjoy a nice morning tea, and write. But that is not what happened at all. My mother-in-law came to visit, and since I was the one off from work, I was the one entertaining her while my husband worked. I found myself feeling irritated with the just my luck type of attitude. Just when I could get a good momentum on my novel, I’d have to sit away from it for a week, and then return to work, only to be pulled away again by my normal day-to-day hustle.

Originally, I had plans to visit my son in Mexico, but it turned out that he was actually going to be in the United States for a training camp instead. Well, let’s say I had a taste of my own medicine. When I went to visit my son at training, he was perturbed because he felt my presence had distracted him from his routine. He had to “lock in,” he said. He had his schedule worked out, and none of it had time for banter with mom and the family. We drove two hours to see him each way, and he complained that we affected his performance. He had plans for what to do with his spare time: read the bible, hit the gym, and do more training (whatever he believed would bring him success at the training camp).

I can relate because, as a writer, I felt the same thing with my mother-in-law’s visit. I would rather have been typing away my chapters than taking her shopping at her favorite bargain-priced stores like Burlington, Ross, or Costco. I hate shopping and driving. But I prayed for grace to be hospitable because I remembered once reading that we should treat guests as if they were a visit from Christ.

Because I wanted to lecture my son about hospitality, I began to research where I had learned this from. I didn’t know if it was taken from scripture or from a saint’s biography I had once read. Turns out, it came from Benedictine philosophy that says visitors should be treated as if Christ himself is visiting you.

Then some scriptures popped up supporting the idea of hospitality and holiness. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, it says, “I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.” And in the Book of Acts, Jesus advises the apostles how to visit a person’s house, how to bless them with peace, and how to go and dust your sandals if you are not received well. 

I wanted to tell my son that a visit from his parents brings blessings, and likewise, I didn’t want to get angry at him for rejecting our visit. I wanted to dust my sandals off and move on. But he’s my son, and I felt like I did wrong, like I raised him wrong, like I should have taught him how to receive visitors. It’s not just mom nagging him about his rudeness; it’s what Jesus taught us about welcoming others.

So, I have prayed for a good attitude while my mother-in-law is around. I pray for the grace to enjoy her presence and see the blessing she brings in her visit.

If you think about the story of Mary and Martha, and how Martha was worried about her chores that she didn’t get to enjoy the visit from Jesus. Jesus had to tell her that Mary was doing the right thing. So, I must do the same. I mustn’t think about how much writing I could have gotten done, but about doing my best to be Christlike and put my Christian hospitality in action.

If I think about stories as a reader, it’s always a lovely surprise when a new character steps into the scene. In mysteries, a visitor often sets the story in motion, like in Sherlock Holmes. They are the ones who knock on the door, present the problem, and voila, Sherlock’s got himself another case. New characters entertain and intrigue readers as they navigate who is who in the mystery. 

I also think of Frog and Toad, a childhood favorite of mine. Toad is often grumpy, and Frog’s visits always bring him out of his mood, showing how their friendship complements each other. Sometimes we need a frog to pull away from our day-to-day routine. In the chapter “Spring,” Frog is actually the one who ushers in the spring. He goads Toad out of his hibernation and rips off the calendar pages so that it is May. If only I could rip the pages off my calendar to usher in an early summer break.

For my four and six-year-old children, my mother-in-law’s visit is a visit from Grandma, which means toys and candy. For my teen daughter, it means shopping and Grandma cleaning her room. For my husband, it means a partner to watch his crime shows with. My mother-in-law’s visit has given me a reality check. It has shown me how I can be just like my teenage son, trying to “lock in” when I write. I don’t ever want to make someone feel rejected or unwelcome, especially after a long travel. 

When we go out shopping, I notice new things too, like a mother peacefully turning a vase around in her hands, looking for a crack, while her toddler snores in his stroller like a baby chick, his head hung forward. I smile to myself; I know that victory. I had forgotten about the small joys and victories of a mom going shopping with a toddler. 

The aisles are filled with Easter baskets and pretty pink tulle, and I start to feel guilty that I haven’t begun filling up the Easter baskets or even started looking for an Easter dress for my daughters. 

My mother-in-law’s words over a cup of coffee offer new insight into my situation. She’s letting me know my lease is up, I should start looking at apartments soon, my transmission sounds bad, I need to get it fixed, and all these things I wouldn’t have paid attention to because I’m preoccupied with my writing projects. I tell her how bothered I am by my son’s behavior. She tells me that athletes are weird creatures; they have unique superstitions. Perhaps she’s right. I remember my English Composition class of freshman football players and their essays. One student wrote about a lucky chain he wore under his uniform, and another about a pair of lucky sneakers he wore on the court. Even if it is superstitions or some distorted perception of things, I’d like my son to know what Jesus says about welcoming others. 

And I need the reminder myself. I, too, can be a grumpy toad when someone interrupts my writing. Sometimes it takes a visit from a Frog (or a mother-in-law) to pull me away from my computer and take a break… a spring break. An invitation to step outside and see “what the world looks like in the spring.” 

copyright 2026 Janet Tamez