If you turn on the television today, you’ll probably come across an insurance commercial featuring a coach who tries to stop young adults from turning into their parents. The ads are designed to be funny, but if you look beneath the humor, the underlying messages (to me) are troubling:
- Don’t make eye contact.
- Don’t strike up a conversation with strangers.
- Mind your own business.
- Look at your phone.
- And whatever you do, don’t care too much.
Thank goodness some people live the direct opposite of those messages!
I want to share a story today about two people who do just that, some friends of mine, Kevin and Cheri.
Before I introduce you, let me tell you about where they live. The little town of Mountain View is an Arkansas treasure. Tucked away in a beautiful part of the state, it’s a great place to visit for a fun and refreshing getaway. There are so many wonderful people and so much to see and do. There’s shopping and fishing and restaurants and crafts and talented artisans. You can spend some time learning heritage, craftsman, and artisanal skills at the Ozark Folk Center Craft Village. Fishermen can cast a line into the White River, and adventurers can explore Blanchard Springs Caverns. There’s a lot of great music in the town also. It’s what Mountain View is known for—whether it’s scheduled concerts at the Ozark Folk Center, weekend shows at the Jimmy Driftwood Barn, weekly performances by the talented Pam Setser and others at the charming little Club Possum, and much more… This unique town has authentically earned its identity as the “Folk Music Capital of the World.”

Long-time visitors know that the real heartbeat of the town happens in the Pickin’ Park. It’s so unique… a place where musicians and singers from around the United States gather together to sit and pick and sing. They play authentic, acoustic music – strumming guitars, picking banjos, playing the fiddle, the mandolin, the upright bass… It’s a place where groups assemble into bands that have never played together before…or perhaps never even met. When the notes from the instruments begin, spectators from all over gather to sit and enjoy the songs and the music.
Right at the edge of the park sits a beautiful historic 1886 inn. It’s fittingly called The Inn at Mountain View – and it boasts a sprawling front porch looking out over the Pickin’ Park… a place where inn visitors can relax under ceiling fans, sitting in rocking chairs or a porch swing while contentedly listening to the music.
The first time I ever walked into the inn was during the off-season. I had noticed there were new owners – so a friend and I dropped by to find out when they would be opening up. Those new owners were named Kevin and Cheri and they were busy that day – working hard to get the inn up and running…..but they didn’t treat us like an interruption. They treated us like family, enthusiastically walking us around, showing us the rooms, telling us the history, and sharing their excitement for the future. That was my first hint that the Inn at Mountain View was going to be something special.
Over the years, the Inn has become one of my favorite getaways – a wonderful place to just reset and refresh when the weight of daily responsibilities get a little heavy. When I drive down for a stay there, I try to arrive early because I want to respect the innkeepers’ schedule, knowing they can’t fully settle in for their evening until all their guests have checked in. So many places these days use an automatic check-in service, no contact, but not the Inn at Mountain View. They greet their guests individually, and it means a lot. They care about connection.
I’ll never forget one specific trip when I turned onto Highway 66 at Leslie and noticed I was having some minor issues with the car. Phone service is sketchy, intermittent on the 30-plus minute drive from Leslie to Mountain View so I was thoughtful, wondering if it had been a good decision to continue on. As I drove along I had the thought that perhaps…if I didn’t show up on time to check in, that Kevin and Cheri might check on me. I knew at least that they would notice that I hadn’t arrived, and that comforted me. I made it safely, and the moment I stepped inside, the stress of the highway faded away into the quiet calm of the house.
That peace isn’t an accident. It is the result of a business that has been intentionally turned into a ministry.
Every morning at the inn, a cheerful handbell rings out, calling guests to the comfortable dining room for breakfast. Everyone sits family style at large tables, passing delicious food back and forth and talking, visiting – getting to know one another. Before anyone starts to eat though, Kevin steps out to say grace. In a world that sometimes seems to shrink back from faith, Kevin boldly uses the microphone his job has given him to honor the Lord. He leads the entire room in a prayer, centering the day on gratitude and grace and reminding a room full of strangers to give our Heavenly Father the honor He deserves.
Kevin and Cheri’s hospitality, their intentional care, spills out all day long to their guests. Cookies or other desserts appear in the dining room for guests to wander in and enjoy. Those resting on the porch in the afternoon are sometimes surprised with unexpected treats like freshly made warm bread pudding. Kevin and Cheri don’t advertise these extras. It’s not part of the contract. It’s just a reflection of their hearts.
But a moment that is forever etched into my mind and the reason this story is being written happened several years ago on a night when the inn was completely full. My friend Kay and I had traveled to see a concert at the Ozark Folk Center featuring Ricky Skaggs. It was a great show, and because we had VIP tickets, we stayed late for a meet and greet after the performance. On the way back to the inn that evening, still excited and talking about the show, we stopped at Sonic, sitting in the car to chat and laugh. By the time we finally pulled back up at the inn, the town was completely dark, the Pickin’ Park was empty, and the streets were quiet.
But there, sitting alone in the dark on the pleasant front porch, was Kevin.
I was surprised. I knew he had to get up early the next morning to cook breakfast for the Inn’s guests before going to church….so I wondered why he was sitting on the porch alone. As we walked up, he asked us about the concert so we sat down in rocking chairs to visit with him for a bit before going inside. And that’s when I figured it out, when I realized the truth. He was waiting up for us! I can’t tell you how that touched my heart. Obviously, we were capable of taking care of ourselves, but to Kevin, we were under his roof and he refused to go to bed until he knew his guests – all his guests – were safely inside for the night. Not since I was a little girl had someone watched the road for my safe return, and the profound comfort of that moment has never left me. I realized in that moment just how deeply it touches the soul to know someone cares enough to leave the light on for you.
Remembering it still brings tears to my eyes. In a culture that laughs at television commercial characters for caring too much or crossing lines to talk to strangers, we have built a world where it is incredibly easy to feel entirely on your own. Kevin was a living reminder that evening that we aren’t meant to live in isolation. We are all here to look out for one another, to connect, and to care.
As I write this, Kevin and Cheri have recently placed the historic inn on the market. But true to form, it isn’t a hasty decision born out of weariness—it is what they beautifully call a “pray and wait” decision. After years of consecutive growth in their business, their hearts are simply turning toward retirement and spending precious time with their grandchildren six hours away. They aren’t just selling a piece of real estate; they are patiently waiting on God’s perfect timing to hand over the keys to the next caretaker. As Kevin so beautifully puts it, if God isn’t through with them there, they aren’t leaving. They are simply holding the space open for the next person called to carry on the legacy of care and ministry they’ve spent years building.
Kevin and Cheri’s excellent hospitality proves that you don’t need a pulpit to have a ministry, to care for others, to point people to the Lord. You just need a servant’s heart. By rejecting the modern culture of isolation, they turned an old historic inn into a sanctuary for the weary – a place of warmth, of celebration, of comfort, and joy – proving that when you tune your life to the service of the Lord, any job can become holy ground.
Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it. — Hebrews 13:2








































