Last night our family set out to find out which home would be hosting the Christmas reenactment (las posadas). We received a schedule a few days ago, but because we are so new to the neighborhood, we don’t know where the houses actually are located. As we set out, we found a familiar face walking down the road and asked her where the event was. It turns out it was two doors over from where we are living. Like most things here, the starting hour came and went. As the group outside gathered we huddled in a little corner as a family, not really knowing anyone. Soon enough one of the ladies there handed us a song/prayer book. We began reading some lines as if we were Joseph begging for a warm place for our pregnant wife Mary. From inside the home they told us “to go away” as they had no room in the Inn. The rest of the evening was filled with songs, prayers and food. Perhaps the best part of the evening involved eating tamales (a Costa Rican Christmas tradition) and chatting with neighbors. At one point Christina asked one of the women, “where are the men?” Her reply was, “most of the women here are divorced ladies in the neighborhood.” It was true, I, outside of the man who lived in the house, was the only one there. Please pray for us as we think through how we can minister to these women in need. Despite the fact that most of them know the Christmas story and can pray through the rosary, we know that all of that is meaningless unless one turns their life over to the resurrected Jesus. That is not meant to be a bash on the Catholic church, nor am I judging our neighbors, but what concerns me most (and this should be a warning to myself and other evangelicals) is that we can become so comfortable with our prayers and traditions that we loose touch with the true Christmas story. May it never be!

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