Time Out

On any other day of the year, a donkey on display could be forgiven for getting tired of crowds.  After hours of human interaction, a discerning parent might say, “I think the donkey is tired sweetheart.  Look but don’t touch him.”  But on this particular day, the situation was more complicated.  To start with, the donkey in question was not actually a donkey, she was a horse.  A miniature horse to be specific, who was being loved on by everyone around her. 

Willow’s long mane was a shade of cream that matched her brown winter coat.  She looked like she had slipped on fancy socks for her evening out, which complimented her ensemble beautifully.  She was clean, ridiculously fluffy and entirely adorable.

On this special evening, Willow was the marquee draw of the living nativity.  All the regulars were in attendance.  The shepherds had donned their requisite dish towels and Joseph and his family were present.  The heavenly host though beautiful, decked in tinsel and nylon wings, had nothing on the donkey impersonator.  Willow was a rock star and it was causing problems. 

Willow’s fans were composed primarily of children under five years of age; toddlers who had not mastered the art of walking.  They took one look at their horse-donkey hero, squealed with delight and launched themselves straight at her muzzle.  Their chubby fingers could not get enough of Willow’s plush locks.  Laughter filled the air, as child after child pet the pretty animal. 

I was recruited by a friend to volunteer at a dinner held for at-risk pregnant women and their families.  I and a couple hundred stranger-friends were working to create a special night out for approximately one hundred families.  The evening itself was a miracle.  Tens of strangers waltzing to the tune of organized chaos.  Children, face paint, cookie sprinkles, slot cars and mashed potatoes were all crafted into a celebration held together by generous hearts and willing hands.  It was a delightful event. 

My role took me all over the building to check on volunteers and solve small problems as they arose.  I went outside to the nativity several times throughout the evening. After two hours, I noticed Willow was not tethered next to the Holy family anymore.  She had been relocated to a place beside the celestial choir.  I found Willow’s owner/agent and asked her if everything was okay.  “It’s great!” She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.  She was bundled in a hat and scarf, but excess fabric couldn’t dull her shiny heart.  “Ummm…and your horsey?” I inquired, not wanting to cast aspersions on Willow’s commitment to her role.  She threw back her head and laughed, “Yep, a bit grumpy,” she confessed.  “She’s getting a lot of admirers this evening.”  I hovered for a while longer, watching families enjoy the display, until duty called me back inside.

The night continued at a rapid pace.  Happiness and mayhem, decked the halls.   When I checked in on Bethlehem forty minutes later, the scene had shifted yet again.  The angels were gathered around a propane heater drinking hot chocolate, Jesus was being held by an extended relative and the donkey was nowhere to be seen.  “Where’s Willow?” I asked.  My friend rolled her eyes heavenward.  “Willow needed some time alone,” she giggled.  “She is behind the stable, the crowds have done her in.”  I walked around the makeshift stable to the railing.  There, shaggy head buried in a bucket of feed, was Willow the horse-donkey.  She had intentionally been tethered so her head was turned away from the crowds, facing into the corner. 

The donkey was in timeout.

Because I have a bizarre sense of humor, I must confess the sight thrilled my soul.  At a time of celebration, I understood how all the merriment could drive someone around the bend.  I could sympathize.  It is so easy to lose your patience and sense of peace at during the holidays.  Half an hour in a shopping mall is enough to make me question the meaning of Christmas and I’m a believer.  The demons of consumerism sing a captivating carol at Christmas time.  “Worship here and lift your spirits” they croon.  “Where is my visa?” the chorus echoes in reply.  It is enough to bring distress to any faithful heart. 

I encourage you not to become dismayed this season.  If you, like Willow, are being pulled away from the view of your Savior, take some time out with your favorite Christmas Carol.  Remember the truth behind the celebration and return to your place at his feet.

God rest ye merry, gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember, Christ, our Saviour
Was born on Christmas day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray
O tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

The world may have gone crazy, but you know the truth.  May you find comfort and joy this season dear friend.

I’m praying for you,

xoxKaren