all that I have

Disclaimer:: I assure you that I tried my best to steer away from this lesson because it almost seems obligatory for each and every Christian to rail against the consumerism of Christmas or the lost meaning of Christmas or heaven forbid you tell me Happy Holidays- apparently I am supposed to go Chuck Norris on you because that is somewhere in one of the gospels.  Christmas is the new gay marriage.  And by now I can safely assume that you have read your fair share of Christmas rants.  But, nonetheless, if I am anything, dear reader, I am honest and this is what I am learning hear in the Land of Borscht.  Though it may be old hat for you, it is still grand to me.

our tree

Ginny & I have scratched and clawed to celebrate Christmas here in Ukraine- despite the fact that there is scant evidence that the annual passage has arrived.  We bought a Christmas tree on the side of the street on our twice-daily walk to the orphanage.  Well, it is more of a limb actually, costing us the equivalent of 65 cents, but, by golly, it’s a tree to our eyes.  Ginny is a celebrator of all things worthy, and I love her for it.  Her determination is particularly endearing in a part of the world where today is not a holiday at all.

Ukrainians celebrate the New Year with much of the things we associate with Christmas and then celebrate Christmas later in January, and, oh yeah, there’s a Saint Nicholas day in December and it all gets a bit confusing with the language barrier and the trio of traditions.

There have been a few tears shed- by someone who will remain nameless– over the fact that we are missing Christmas with the stateside rascals- the first Christmas where our Hazel actually gets it.  Of course, these tears always end with a recantation of the joyful facts that we are spending our first Christmas with Lena and doing so is an absolute answer to so many petitions.  There is so often a cost associated with answered prayers within His will.

But this much is clear.  It’s not Christmas here.  It’s not even on the radar, that is unless you happen across the two ill-fitting Americans attempting to say Merry Christmas in Ukrainian and smiling and bowing like the idiot that swapping cultures makes you.

No gifts, no football and no turkey.  None of the things that I associate with Christmas are really at my disposal.  Thus, you may be surprised to hear that this is the purest Christmas I have ever had.

Because all that I have here that reminds me of Christmas is Jesus.  And that is more than enough.  God become man in the form of a child.

Ginny and I sang Christmas carols last night and it was worship.  That is new to me.  But then again rarely has He been all that I have.

We are currently headed out into the tundra to go get a little gift for each child in Lena’s room (the special needs room of the orphanage).  Just as in a manger so many years ago, He still shows up in the oddest of places.

Happy Holidays.
Calm down.
Merry Christmas from Ukraine.