We're All Innkeepers

Happy Holidays, Friends!

And just like that we're one day away from Christmas 2018. That means we're also one day plus a week away from 2019. It's become a tradition for me at the end of the year to write letters and blogs that draw some sort of parallel between our lives and this beloved holiday, and since I only have one other post to show for the past twelve months, here I am! Thanks for reading. :)

So, let's talk about this innkeeper guy... you may have heard of him. Mary and Joseph ride up to his inn, looking for a place to rest because Mary is super pregnant, and they've traveled all the way from Nazareth to pay their taxes. (Thanks, Caesar Augustus.)

Anyway, the inn is full, so the innkeeper sends them away, and we all cringe because you know that's the beginning of the worst Yelp review ever. At the same time, though, do we blame him? Isn't it supposed to be our goal to create something so popular, you sell out your inventory? Wasn't the innkeeper just an entrepreneur living by the capitalistic ideals of supply and demand?

I guess that's the reason why, with our very busy lives, I don't feel like using the innkeeper's story to "guiltify" us into taking on even more. Instead, I feel this story begs the question, "If our inns are full, what are they full of and why?"

If we operate our lives so completely sold out that we have no room for love, charity, or your run of the mill, life changing miracle, is it possible our "inns" might be emptier than we think?

What I'm trying to say is this year I found joy in making room as well as giving it away. I said "no" to a few things (maintaining a regularly updated blog, for example?), and that comes with consequences. But the good news is it made room for some stuff I tend to turn away, namely, "Creative Freedom, Conversation, and Community."

The even better news is this time of year has the magic to remind me how much room there can be, so there's no way I'd turn away the opportunity to share some love and say to each of you, "Thank you for making room for me."

With love, gratitude, and a few sugar cookies,

Jeffrey Scott Parsons