Guest Towels

You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long. – Psalm 23:5b-6 (NRSV) 

In my house we have something called “guest towels.” And the main thing I know about guest towels is: I’m not allowed to use them. 

Which is difficult. Because guest towels are amazing. Thick, and fluffy, and still the same color as when we bought them. The opposite of the once-white things we put on our Kohl’s registry 20 years ago. Thin and fraying, but functional. 

Over Christmas, getting out of the shower at my in-laws’, I reached into the cabinet for a towel. The moment my fingers touched it, I knew it wasn’t for me. Soft and pillowy, blindingly white. A guest towel. 

I reached back to find another. Then it hit me. Here, I am the guest. This is my towel. This is for me. 

My Bible commentaries tell me that having your head anointed was a gesture of hospitality in the ancient near east. Weary travelers, dried out from the road, were oiled and perfumed by their hosts. 

I don’t know about that. I’ve never shown up to my in-laws’ and been offered a scalp massage. Or even so much as a face moisturizing. 

I don’t know how it feels for the Good Shepherd to anoint me. But I imagine it’s something like wrapping myself in that luxurious, blanket-sized guest towel. The kind of thing you know is kept on hand just for you. The kind of care that makes you want to dwell in the house of the Lord your whole life long. 

Prayer
Lord of Hosts, make me your guest.