A few weeks ago, we went to San Antonio to visit some best friends. There was something at Elizabeth and Jeff’s home that stood out to me while we were there. Get past the water bottles by the bedside, custom blinds, the plush bedding that felt so heavenly and the island of all islands and the monster best TV ever. We had everything we could possibly need or want – Elizabeth had it all covered. But what stood out to me the most? In their guest bedroom and their guest bathroom, they had the prettiest small bronze trash cans. Cleaner than clean, no liners.

I thought, “Wow, I need to Amazon some pretty bronze trash cans like Elizabeth. These are really nice and of the ‘finer things’.” When I grow up, I want to be just like Elizabeth, all refined and classy.

A couple of weeks ago, we went to Overland Park to prepare for a surgery, and instead of staying in a hotel like we are accustomed, we stayed in the home of Linda and Horst, good friends from our church small group. Linda and Horst are all refined and classy, just like Elizabeth and Jeff. Their home is nicer than nicety nice and bigger than bigness. Horst and Fabien eat an egg every morning from an egg shell, with a dainty little spoon. Linda brings big fluffy towels to the hospital because she thinks of things like that. But, while we were staying in their home, there was also something that stood out to me in their guest bathroom. They had a nice, white plastic trash can with a grocery store bag liner…just like our trash cans.

And I thought back to Elizabeth’s trash cans, wanting to be like her, all refined and classy.

And then I looked at Linda’s practical trash can.

And it hit me. Not the trash can. The lesson.

Refined and classy is not defined by the trash can in the guest bathroom.

Refined and classy is defined by the heart. These two couples are the definition of refined and classy, because their hearts are soft as cotton and solid as gold. They have lived life with many ups and downs. Their families are as wacky and wonderful as ours, with stories to make you melt. They are not pretentious. They don’t flaunt their refined ways. It’s just who they are, and their guests are made to feel like they are home, they are just a part of the family.

And they have opened their arms to Sam and Rhonda, imperfect and awkward, stained and still going. Elizabeth and Linda…modern day Lydia ladies, bronze receptacled and grocery bag lined.

Either way, THESE ARE OUR PEOPLE. And for them, I am very grateful.