Inn Crowd or Stable Person?

I have mixed feelings about Christmastime. I like that everyone gets all lovey and giving and happy and peace-on-earthy, but seriously, why can't that happen all year long??? Why do we wait for November and December to roll around to give food to the food bank and to smile at everyone we pass on the street? Also, I have a problem with the hoards of gifts that we buy and give and the gifting for the sake of gifting that takes place. I feel like a really big hypocrite this time of year. Really, that's what it boils down to. This year was no exception. I don't feel like I do a very good job of making Christmas as much about the birth of Christ as I could/need to/should. I feel like instead of being one of those few who made it to the stable to see Jesus, I am one of those from the Inn crowd who was there when it all happened, but because of my having the advantage (so we think) of having room and board and comfort (nice house, physical needs met) at the Inn, I missed the whole dang thing! And to no one's fault but my own.

I can't stop thinking about the kids at Matviivka. That's the orphanage that the boys came from. BoyOne was telling me how some of his friends were wishing him a Merry Christmas the other day and he told them that in America, it had already been Christmas. In Ukraine, Christmas is celebrated on January 7 and for the twelve days after. On the twelfth day of this celebration is when good ol' Father Frost, Deed Moroze, or Santa as we know him, drops in. I rather like that schedule. Or at least like the sentiment of it. It sounds like it would be great.

Anyhow, back to Matviivka. BoyOne was asked by his friends if he liked Christmas in America. He, of course, told them yes. At the internat, they get to sleep in until 9 and get two pieces of candy. Those fortunate enough to have a living relative may have a visitor on that day who may bring them a piece of fruit, or some dried fish and a small (as in smaaaall) gift. The end. So, of course Christmas here was better than there. And while I am happy for the boys to have had a fun and great Christmas, I am most happy that they are HERE!!! They have a family! We have them! They are warm, clothed, fed, educated, safe, and loved. Hallelujah!! I wasn't sure if we were going to ever get them here back in September and not a day goes by that I am not thankful for this miracle.

With that joy and happiness, though, comes the haunting reminder of the stark contrast of the kids who we left behind.

Pasha. I would post a picture if I could. Pasha was one of the older boys that we became friends with. He was sixteen and on his way out at the end of the summer. How sickening is that? I first met him when I was sitting inside the entrance of the orphanage waiting by myself. I said hello to him and he nodded back at me. I liked him from the get go. He reminded me of a kid I used to work with back in the day when I was paid with money for working. I tried to give him a chupas chupe (dum dum sucker). He wouldn't take it. I knew he wanted it. I mean seriously, even the orphanage care givers were all sitting outside on the benches eating them, so I knew he wanted one. When Yana, my translator, came back to me, I asked her to give him one. Sometimes the kids would take stuff from her if they were too embarrassed to take it from me. He refused and she told me it was because he thought that suckers were for little children and he was a big boy. That made me laugh and I unwrapped a sucker for him and practically shoved it in his mouth and indicated for him to bite off the stick so that nobody would see that he was eating such a childish candy. After that I made a point to always find him and give him some of whatever treat I had brought to pass out. He was also on the soccer team. We got to spend time with him while we were there. He was a good kid.

When I returned to Ukraine in July and the kids were all at camp, I saw Pasha again. He was sitting alone on a bench near the entrance of the camp. I sat near him and we talked, best we could, for a few minutes while Yana 'checked us in' (remember the Hitler-ish camp director??). I gave him a couple bananas and a drink and remember thinking he looked even more solemn than usual. When I headed to the boys' cabin, Pasha insisted on carrying my bags for me. That was the last time I saw him.

I didn't know that would be the last time I would see him. I didn't know that I wouldn't see most of those boys again. I'm not sure what I thought. I know I had hoped to be able to help a few of them who I knew were leaving the orphanage, but when I came back they were already gone. I was glad that Pasha was at camp. I think I assumed that meant he would go back to the internat for another year (sometimes when they are sixteen, if they are doing well in school, they can stay and try to pass an exam that would get them into college-this is very rare). I also know that I wasn't thinking very clearly that time... There were a lot of not so good things going on.

When I went back in September, he was gone. He had to leave to go to trade school. I asked around and nobody really knew where he, or a few others I was trying to find, had gone. Just 'to trade school.' Nobody knew which one or where or if he was okay or anything. That's what happens. They just disappear. They are just gone. The end. That's it.

So while we were opening presents this year and taking pictures and eating food and sitting in our nice warm house surrounded with family and friends, my thoughts and prayers were with Pasha and all the others like him in the world (including here, in America). I sat in the Inn wishing I was at the Stable, yet not really knowing how to make that happen or what to do about it.

I love this quote from the book Mary Did You Know, by Mark Lowry,

"I'll tell you whom I feel sorry for-all the people in the motel who missed it. They were there! They were in the same time period. They didn't have to learn of this event 2000 years after the fact, like we did. While they were lying in their beds, trying to get some rest... they missed it! They could have walked right out to the stable and witnessed the coming of the Messiah!... But they were too busy with the mundane to notice the eternal."

While they were fortunate enough to be in the same time period, we are equally as blessed to have the knowledge of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, today! How truly amazing is that?! This year my goal is to not be so busy with the mundane that I do not notice the eternal. I am trying to remember to be a Stable person, to leave the comforts of the Inn and take the path to the Stable. As I try to visit the Savior at the Stable, I know that He will help me to know what to do and how to be one of those Stable people. That won't be the hard part. The hard part will be to actually leave the Inn! It is really easy to get busy at the Inn, what with attending first grade every day, doing church 'stuff', running to extra-curriculars, trying to teach kids educational and musical things, laundry, dishes, and that darn meal time that happens three times a day! Sheesh!! Sometimes, the problem is not that we are guests at the Inn, but that we are the Innkeepers!! Wish me luck in my quest. I'm going to need it:)