Disclaimer: As you may know, there is no mention of an inn keeper in Scripture--only that there was no room in the inn. So the story below is simply an "imagine-if-tion" of that moment in time. Maybe it will encourage you to see it through fresh eyes.
She’d just nudged the last few sheep and a young colt in the livery under her living quarters, turned the key and locked the door. This stable-under-the-house design, though perhaps a bit smelly, kept thieves from breaking in and stealing the little she had. Stopping to put away the last few things she looked up into the vibrant night sky. Millions of stars--as numerous as grains of sand on the seashore. Brilliant. Beautiful. Amazing. And yet, she felt so small. Insignificant. Forgotten. Maybe even invisible. Her name was Rahab—named for her distant relative from the double-walled city of Jericho, who had hidden two Israelite spies under the drying flax on her roof. That Rahab! The one who was called an “innkeeper” but who was really a prostitute. The harlot turned heroine who courageously hung a scarlet cord from her window, as instructed by those Israelite spies to insure she and her family would be spared. The Rahab, who gave birth to a son named Boaz who married Ruth who became the great-grandmother of King David. That Rahab was the woman for whom she was named. At times, when things were quiet at night, she wished that she were more like that Rahab. She could certainly use some of her courage, but the truth was she was barely surviving. She lived on the edge—the edge of survival, the edge of community, the edge of a nowhere town--the last “inn” on the road—the edge of life. She shivered, pulled her coat tightly around her neck and carefully climbed the rickety ladder to her living quarters. Alone. After straightening her pallet, she lay down and pulled the covers up snug. Finally, she would rest. She was hungry but the pangs would eventually pass—they always did. Fortunately sleep came quickly to Rahab until… A quiet knock at the door awakened her. Did she just imagine that noise or had something startled the animals? Her exhausted eyes closed…it was probably nothing. Then she heard it again—a gentle knock—a little more urgent. “Hello? Is there someone there?” Rahab called out hesitantly. “Yes,” came a calm male voice. “I’m looking for a place to stay the night…for my…for my wife and me,” he said with a worried glance at Mary. Rahab called down: “I’ve not got a guest room—there’s just enough room for me. I’m sorry. I really am.” Rahab lay quiet. What could she do—she had nothing to offer. “Do you know of anything? Mary, my wife, is in pain and needs a place to lie down. She is laboring with child. We’re desperate.” Rahab was still. Surely they would walk away. “Hello? Miss?” They hadn’t left. Rahab stared at the roof made of flax and thought of “Grandmother Rahab” and then she heard a small voice in her spirit say: “What about the stable? You have a stable.” “Hel…” “I’m coming,” she interrupted. She opened the door and she couldn’t believe what she saw—the time was now! “Thank you,” whispered the man as he helped the young woman through the gate. “You are very kind.” Rahab lowered her head and said, “I’m embarrassed to even show you this, but it is all I have,” as she removed the key from her pocket, unlocked the gate and entered the manger. As the door swung open the pregnant woman, obviously in pain, caught her eye, smiled and mouthed the words, “May the Lord bless you.” Rahab’s heart stuttered. Who are these people? She was glad she had gotten up to help. Do you have room for Jesus in your "inn" today? The fact that you've read this far says you're heart is open!
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