I read this book in little snacks and nibbles over the past month or so. I liked it a lot, and am adopting a few ideas from it into my own home life and hospitality outlook.
Every now and then, I read or flip through a book about hygge and discover I'm already filled with an innate desire for a hygge home. But I still often find a new idea or way to finetune the cozy comfort of my house. This book had more such new insights than most because it showcased how creating a comfortable home environment that fosters belonging is a way to share God's love with others, and I appreciated that new angle.
There were a few places I disagreed with Erickson's theology, but I expected there to be, and they weren't enough to detract from this book's usefulness.
Particularly Good Bits:
Reshaping an atmosphere can never permanently reshape a heart. But it can help, especially when paired with the hope of Jesus (p. 17).
Hospitality, thriving relationships, well-being, a welcoming atmosphere, comfort, contentment, and rest--these are the markers of hygge. But they're also qualities seen in the first Garden home and exhibited by Jesus (p. 17).
Dinner time has been a conduit for sharing celebrations, service, and sorrow. None of the meals started as interventions or "sharing circles." They were just meals. But intentional hospitality around the table provided the pause necessary to allow others to share in ways they otherwise wouldn't have (p. 35).
Hyggelig hospitality doesn't preclude tidying up or putting your best foot forward. It just means you don't have to feel the need to sterilize your life and wipe out every evidence of brokenness from your home. It means you don't have to secret your real self and your real messes away. It encourages you to share your whole self so your guests feel comfortable enough to do the same (p. 49).
We no longer begrudge the monotony of a routine life because hygge compels us to find the extra of each ordinary moment (p. 79).
...knowing and caring are two different things. You can know about a lot of issues, but you cannot care about them all equally. No one's shoulders are wide enough for that. If you do attempt to carry it all, you'll end up physically, emotionally, and financially unable to carry any of it (p. 101).
For those who are in Christ, well-being will be fully restored. Until that time, may you and I follow His example by caring for ourselves, not selfishly or indulgently, but in a way that enables us to care for others (p. 103).
Hygge is comfort in moderation. It is a rational voice that declares, "If you choose not to find joy in the snow, you will have less joy in your life but still have the same amount of snow" (p. 132).
Through our Western eyes, we're quick to call the dirt of this life filthy or ruin, forgetting that it was by dirt that the Master Potter made us in the Garden all those years ago. It is by dirt and snow that life continues to renew and grow. In praying that God takes away the struggles of this world -- the dirt and snow--we're also unwittingly disregarding the comfort that lies on the other side of every discomfort we face (p. 133).
Hygge favors the ordinary and familiar. It is unpretentious and imperfect and encourages satisfaction in everydayness (p. 154).
We are rest-avoidant because, at some point, some well-meaning someone had us all believing that the central aim of our lives is to be useful to God, but it's not. We're meant to glorify God. That's our purpose. The end (p. 176).
Every time we invite others into our house, we have an opportunity to make them feel right at home. We help heal those whose home lives are anything but homey and make room for those who don't know where they belong (p. 197).
If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: G. Totally appropriate for all ages.