When FOMO Threatens Your Christmas

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee tonight. 

-O Little Town of Bethlehem

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 

-The Apostle Paul, 2nd Corinthians 3:17, ESV

REAL TALK. Christmas edition. 

Last night, I was super struggling with some Major FOMO* and its ugly cousin, Straight-Up Jealousy. I was leafing through Facebook, because that’s definitely NOT going to be a problem this time of year. Insert Eye Roll. Our budgets are tight this year (when are they not? Oh, and by budgets, I don’t mean just monetary. Energy and health-wise AS WELL), and I’m not even sure if we’re doing anything beyond putting the tree up and playing with the Little People Nativity set. Like, ANYTHING. Our tree is fake and we order presents on Amazon. So when Facebook shows me a beautiful array of dozens of Christmas tree hunts, dazzling Christmas light shows, frozen Christmas parades, and sweet Christmas cookie exchanges, I’m like whoa. Where was the time found to even get that done, on top of normal life living stuff? I mean, it’s only been December for about 5 seconds. So, like a normal person, I just sat on my couch and felt SAD AND SMALL AND SORRY FOR MYSELF. Oh, and it was felt in all-caps, I assure you. 

IS THIS WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ALL ABOUT, CHARLIE BROWN. 

I ASK YOU. 

Because it feels like everyone is out being CHRISTMASY and living SEASONALLY, and here I am, in my own particular set of limitations, struggling to get up and make dinner and make sure there’s clean underwear for tomorrow. Fibromyalgia and endometriosis take up so much of my time, I joke that I actually have more than one child to take care of. Well, it’s a joke and not a joke, if you get me. 

I have been thinking about that word, limitation, lately. Well, sometimes when I get a thought to myself, in the beautiful and giggly chaos that IS having a toddler. Mostly I hate all the limitations I have. The physical ones and the money ones and all the ones in between. They make me have to WAIT, something I’m quite terrible at. They make me slow down, something I’d rather not do, thank-you-very-much. They make me feel small next to my busy generation, which is invalidating. They make me have to prioritize, when I’d rather just have and do it all. 

Waiting. 

Slowing down. 

Feeling small. 

Prioritizing. 

When I look at this list, I feel annoyed. TO BE HONEST. This isn’t the To-Do List I had in mind for this season. But on better days, I can see it as a gift. Especially during this Advent season, which is all about the wait, isn’t it? I am forced to wait and slow down and prioritize. Even feeling small is a gift when it means I can have a proper perspective of myself in the world, when I can think of others as better than myself, as indeed I am called to, as a believer in Christ. I can only think this way because I am deeply loved by Christ, and that’s more than enough to sustain. It’s the only thing that can erase the fear of missing out. His love is the only thing that can redeem our smallness, our longing in the middle of waiting. It will allow us to give what we can, out of those very limitations and even brokenness. 

So if you’re feeling small this season, if you’re wondering if you should be doing more, if you’re feeling like the To-Do List will never be conquered, if your heart is longing for more this season, you’re actually in the right place. 

When we’re forced to wait, when there is no other choice but to slow down,we can begin to see it as a gift. Let Christ come to you, to me, in all our weary waiting. He is gentle with us. He is aware of all our limitations, and He wants to be our Great Helper. We wouldn’t see how we need Him, this Savior who was born to us in the city of David, if we didn’t have these limitations. These limitations can serve to remove our blinders of false productivity, of false busy-ness, of false hopes. When we actually accept our limitations, we can see how unlimited our Christ is, and the fears of all the years will certainly be met in Him. Our worries and fears will disappear in His great joy and delight in us, as we make room for Him. 

So I’ll be taking this Christmas thing one day at a time, just like I do in all the other seasons (although not always gracefully). I’ll be weighing what’s doable, what’s manageable, and what’s life-giving. I’ll be asking what I can give, in my limitations. And that will be enough and I won't have to compare my schedule to my neighbor's. I’ll pray that disappointments and all the waiting will only bring me closer to Christ and to His kingdom and to His people. As we celebrate His birth and the glorious realization of God being with us in our humanity, let’s rest and be refreshed in His limitless joy. 

*Fear of Missing Out; aka POSSIBLY THE WORST THING EVER WHEN YOU HAVE NO PLANS

We have a Very Helpful Toddler-Decorator this year. 

Bethlehem can be a crazy place. 

You can't see the mess jusssst outside the frame.  Hee hee. 

December and the Dreamers

The light came down 

Cast the darkness away 

He appeared 

A helpless child 

The light of God came to save us 

To the world that He made us 

O' Lord and Savior 

Alleluia 

-Josh Garrels, A Light Came Down

When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus. 

Matthew 1:24-25

Our Father who is in Heaven, 

It is a hard thing to quiet our hearts before you. Our hearts are loud and chaotic, as we come off a year of political strife and global unrest and terror, as we come off a year of personal failures and successes, as we come off a year of doubt and sorrow and weaknesses of all kinds. 

But every December, as Christmas stands bright and shining in the dark of this year, we still feel your draw of every heart, of every story, of every nation, even our tired and dusty selves. We can’t help but remember your First Advent into our sorry world, a helpless baby born to new parents. We can’t help but remember the curious manner of your First Coming, how angels announced you to both Mary and Joseph, how kings hunted you, how wise men from foreign countries sought you, how everything fell into place by unseen hands to fulfill the prophecies and promises of an Almighty Father to His longing people. 

This year, we remember the dreamers, the seekers in this story of your birth. In our world, there is no room at the inn for dreamers either. The dreamers are told to come back with an action plan, to forget their foolish dreams, roll up their selves and get to work. But just as you chose to come in the ultimate weakness of humanity, a fragile baby, you chose to work in the twilight world of human dreams to protect the Savior of all people. Joseph, the human father of Jesus, the father you chose to keep the Messiah safe from harm was such a dreamer. After weighing his human options, he chose to not put his pregnant fiancee to shame and just divorce her without fuss or mess. But in sleep, in fragile dreams, you sent him a message, and thank God, he remembered when he awoke. Thank God he didn’t dismiss it as something he ate the night before, or the result of emotions and decisions running high. Thank God you transformed his dreams into something more concrete and real than the normal run-of-the-mill dreams we shake from our minds as we wake. 

And so as we remember Joseph, the Dreamer and the human Father of God-with-Us, we ask that you would turn us into dreamers too. We ask that you would shake us from our petty dreams, our daily desires, our worldly cares, our unbelieving hearts. We ask that you would transform our dreams into realities, our fears into faith. Give us the vision of Joseph for ourselves and our world. Prepare our hearts for your coming, whether you come to us in dreams or in daylight, in solitude or in community. Be our strength, be our peace as we seek you, as we dream after you and your kingdom. Give us dreams to change our world, as you gave Joseph dreams, as you gave the wise men dreams. Give us calm hearts to hear your gentle voice to us this Christmas, as we turn our hearts toward you, as you turned your hearts toward us and the whole of humanity. As we lift our faces to you in both the ashes of this year and the promises of your birth, whisper to us of resurrection and transformation and and an everlasting hope. Amen. 

Seeking peace and joy. 

An empty peanut butter jar makes a good vase, of course. 

Lights shining in the darkness. 

Wish. 

The beauty of the water and the shore never ceases to amaze.

Earth and sky meet. 

Obligatory coffee cup shot. 

Saying Yes

Long lay the world in sin and e'er pining

'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

-O Holy Night

And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord, let it be to me according to your word.”

-Luke 1:38

In just three days, we will be celebrating the birth of Jesus. In the middle of the darkest days of the year, we remember His holy arrival into our world. His birth was the bright fulfillment of promises centuries-old, the redeeming of all our darkness. By choosing such a human entrance, we see how God used people to help usher in the Hope of the world. Of course, we can’t help but think about Mary, the mother of Jesus, chosen by God to carry the Messiah. 

I think we can all agree that Mary, the mother of Jesus, was a strong lady. She was a spiritual body-builder, a faith-infused heavyweight. And not only that, we have every reason to believe she was a teenager at this time. A teenager! I am thinking back to Sarah, age 13 or 14, and before the 90s bangs, tapered jeans, and plaid shirts cloud my vision, I see someone who is still figuring things out. Still figuring out what the world is about, what is important in life, how friendship works, discovering likes and dislikes, and figuring out boys. But mostly giggling about that last thing. Even though that was all RATHER a while ago, I’m guessing it’s pretty much the same for most teenagers today. So it’s pretty wild to not just picture or imagine what happened to Mary, but to know that it actually happened. Sure, it was a different world, a different culture back then, but she was still so young. What can we learn about this teenager with monumental vision, with iron strength?

What we can safely say about Mary is that she had faith. And lots of it. In Luke, we are told that she found favor with God. What a beautiful phrase that is! She found favor with God. In Hebrews 11:6, the author writes, “Without faith it is impossible to please Him.” God had given Mary ridiculous amounts of faith, and she must have cultivated it in her own heart, in her own life. With this bedrock faith, she was able to not just accept the angel’s crazy announcement that she, a virgin, would give birth through the Holy Spirit to the Savior of the world, but to welcome this news. She welcomed God’s miraculous interruption, God’s glorious upheaval in her life. 

Throughout scripture, people had all kinds of reactions to God’s stepping into their lives and asking to be let in. Noah said yes when God told him to build an ark. Moses said yes when God asked him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. The Apostle Paul, when God blinded him on the way to Damascus, when he was going to round up Christians and have them put to death, obeyed Jesus’s instruction to enter the city and wait, blind with everything he knew turned upside down. 

Mary’s response to the angel is also incredibly inspiring to me. I am imagining what it would be like to be an engaged (which was pretty much halfway legally married back then) young woman, and then all of a sudden be mysteriously PREGNANT. Even though she knew what those around her would think and say about that scandalous news, she still welcomed God’s interruption. Mary’s life was set. She was engaged to a good man, to Joseph, and she would be a good wife, a good mother. But when the angel appeared instead, not just putting her life on hold, but changing it radically, forever, she was humble and said yes. 

Shortly after the angel’s life-altering visit, Mary went to visit her also-pregnant, much-older cousin, Elizabeth. This was a beautiful meeting, for when Elizabeth heard Mary, the Holy Spirit inspired her to bless Mary, the mother of her Messiah, and the Redeemer of the whole world. Mary responded by blessing the Lord Himself, for His goodness and mercy to her. For His choosing of her, for Hs finding favor with her. In her Psalm-like blessing, she tells of the Lord’s mighty blessings and justice and fulfilled promises. Oh, she’s still a teenager, obviously. She is still that same young woman, still figuring some things out. But she knew her Lord, she knew the true story of the Messiah’s coming, and she believed that that history was unfolding inside her very womb. 

That we all could have such faith! To welcome God’s good interjections in our lives. To embrace His life-changing presence in our stories. That when God asks us to do something, even something that will make other people shake their heads at us, even something that means our own plans change or fade completely, we would say a glorious yes. That we would identify with Mary, saying to whatever God has for us, “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be to me as you have said.” 

Some days, in my own story, it feels like God is asking me to build an ark of impossible proportions. Some days, it seems like God has struck me blind and I am waiting in the dark for Him to come to me and heal me and send me out to do His work. Most days, it’s really hard to welcome the interruptions of what He’s allowed in my life. I long for more faith, for more hope in the God I have loved and followed since childhood. I long to be more like Mary, who looked clearly at her completely changed circumstances, and praised God for those very changes. I want to be able to magnify Him in the middle of exactly what makes life difficult. I want to praise Him for the good things He’s done, that I so often overlook and take for granted. Like Mary, I want to join in to God's good work in the world by saying yes in faith. And who knows how we can change the world just by saying yes?  

Wild Hopes and Bright Lights

No more let sins and sorrows grow

Nor thorns infest the ground

He comes to make

His blessings flow

-Joy to the World

For to us a child is born,

    to us a son is given;

and the government shall be upon his shoulder,

    and his name shall be called 

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of his government and of peace

    there will be no end,

on the throne of David and over his kingdom,

    to establish it and to uphold it

with justice and with righteousness

    from this time forth and forevermore.

 The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

-Isaiah 9:6-7

There is always an invitation to fear. 

Fear is always with us, always immediately outside the door, always asking to be let in. Day in, day out. Year after year. Breath after breath. Reports of war and terror and unrest and a planet that is tearing itself apart fill our screens and minds. Difficult people and estranged relationships and things said or unsaid, things done and undone, weigh heavy on our hearts. We can also be filled with fear at our own lives, in the confusion and the mundane and the unfulfilled dreams—the sense that this isn't how it was meant to be. We face fear of the unknown in the future before us; we try to leave fear behind with our past choices and circumstances. Fear is always waiting for us. 

What is the remedy in a world so dark, in hearts so easily bent? Can there be one, or are we all so tied to fear? 

In this season of Advent, we wait. We wait in the dark, we hope in the dark. 

We join the ancient practice of preparing our hearts for the celebration of the birth of Jesus. Before a child can be born, there is the long wait. Before a son can be given to us, we had to prepare. Before the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace could come to us, there were years and generations of waiting. Before the government could be put on his shoulder, there was darkness and fear. Before the increase of His kingdom and peace, there was the fear of not knowing. There was only waiting. There was only hoping.  We wait with the world and we look forward to the joy of remembering His birth and what it means for all of us.

Fears are transformed in December; we stake our claim that hope and love and the gift of a Savior is stronger and larger than the darkness of our twisted world, of our twisted hearts. Anxieties are put to rest with the birth of a virgin’s son. Disappointments and discouragements are melted in the cry of the newborn King. Hopes are renewed, faith is reborn, and we find our joy in the light of his coming. 

So in a kind of wild hope, we set up our lighted Christmas trees. We hang up bright lights around our windows, defying the dark days and long nights. We decorate and bake and shop and plan and celebrate those we love. We reread the ancient Scriptures and remember the story of Jesus’ birth together. We hope and long and yearn for peace—for our friends and family, for our world, and in our own hearts. 

And yet, we do not just simply wait in a kind of wishful thinking. We can bring His kingdom to light no matter where we are. We who believe that the government is upon his shoulder, we hold his glory in our hearts and lives and relationships. We who believe Jesus is the Prince of Peace for all—we are called to continuously mirror his joy and reconciliation and love. We cling to this Prince of Peace instead of all our fears. In this way, as the old songs say, both the hopes and the fears of all the years are met in the light of His glory and grace. 

Peace on Earth

Meanwhile the cross comes before the crown, and tomorrow is a Monday morning. 

C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

Jesus, John 10:10

Christmas is in one week. We’re all rushing around, finding gifts and putting up sparkly lights and eating lots of sugar. I’ve got Christmas music playing on my iPod at work. I ran around the mall tonight, trying to find an ugly Christmas sweater. We’re planning family events and the food (of course) and how much fun we’ll all have. We’re trying to budget presents. We’re basking in the light of our happy Christmas tree. 

And why do we do all these things? Why do we spend the money, why do we dig out the Christmas boxes of decorations, why do we make all the plans? 

Because one day, all will be well. 

One day, all will be right. All will be redeemed. All the pain will disappear, all the sad tears will dry. All the questions we have will be answered. Our bodies will be healed, our minds will be at peace. All the horrible things that have ever happened to us will be corrected and redeemed. All the wonderful things we’ve experienced will be more beautiful in the context of a world made perfect and whole. Our broken relationships will be fixed—all hurts and misunderstandings will fade away. 

One day, we will see all the people we love how they are meant to be—whole and shining. One day, our loved people will not be sick, not be haunted by their pasts. We will look at their faces and wonder how we never really saw how special, how wonderful, how incredible they are. They will amaze us—they will be everything they ever wanted to be, and more. We will be able to spend time with them and laugh and cry happy tears together. 

For now, we fix our gaze on what is to come-on Jesus coming to redeem this entire broken world. For now, we suffer with those who suffer. We pray for wars to end, for relationships to heal, for illness and poverty and discrimination to end, for grace for all. We do what we can, wherever we are, to bring heaven to earth. We hang lights in hope, we give presents to remind each other of our love, of our grace for them. We remember the promises of Scripture, we remember the stories of Jesus. We also remember how He had to come to earth as a baby, to be like us in our pain and sorrow and joy and relationships. We remember how He lived and loved and suffered—and we remember that He did it all for us. We remember we have a Savior who is Christ the Lord, who loves all us all to pieces, and gave us the Great Gift of Himself. 

Aftermath

And the angels filled the sky
All of heaven wondered why
Why their King would choose to be
Be a baby born to die
-Bebo Norman, Born to Die

And she gave birth to her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Luke 2:7


This morning I find myself alone for the first time in a long time. It’s weird. Like all Decembers for everyone, there’s been something nearly every day. Sometimes December feels like a giant to-do list: shop here, order this, make this,  pick up the thing, drive here, do this. Don’t get me wrong; I freaking love a good to-do list. So you’d think a month of to-do’s would be delightful! The thing is, I always set myself up for failure, because I want to do all the things that everyone else is doing, too. I wanted to do Advent things, bake old and new Christmas treats, decorate the house within an inch of sanity, stare at the Christmas tree, throw a few Christmas parties, go to a few Christmas parties, write a brilliantly funny Christmas letter, make all the things on my Christmas Pinterest board. Duh. So when I find myself at the end of December taking stock of the month and realize that my Christmasy crafty-ness consisted of sticking little sparkly bows on Trader Joe’s chocolate bars, well, it’s a bit of a let-down. I didn’t really think about the birth of Jesus at all. I didn’t watch one Christmas movie. I didn’t bake one damn Christmas cookie. I didn’t make gingerbread houses with my nieces. I spent my time tracking my Amazon orders that I ordered a bit late (whatever), and running to the store at the last minute. My contribution to the family Christmas breakfast was store-bought cinnamon rolls, complete with icing in a package. For a woman of Norwegian descent, you can imagine the horror I tried to ignore-not homemade?? Not packed with loving amounts of real butter?

Well, so much for all I did and didn’t do. I found myself instead blessed with the loving attentions and loving grace of my family and friends. This was the month to give myself a break and accept the goodness of others. With health issues abounding still and exhaustion reigning, I relaxed at my parent’s home and at the home of my in-laws, both of whom explode with hospitality and generosity. My dad read the Christmas story aloud before presents, and I remembered through this tradition the reason for why we gather, why we give presents, why we make food and spend time together, why we make time in an already crazy season. God came to us in the craziness of real time, of real life, in a birth of dubious background, in a time of great cultural stress and upheaval. God made Himself a gift to us, in a way that makes us scratch our heads and wonder at the Christmas story anew. How can it become old hat, become merely something on a to-do list? Thankfully, God waits for us patiently and graciously-He understands how hard it is to be human, especially in December.

Crazy, Fabulous Joy

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

-Christmas Carol

Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me!
Three Dog Night


Joy is such a fierce thing, isn’t it? The word itself makes me think of something that cannot be stopped, like a flooding river through a broken dam. It makes me think of warm grins that cannot be contained, spreading to eyes and cheeks and faces, like a child at Christmas time. It makes me think of a hot and crackling fire in a big fireplace, where people can gather from the cold and drink warm drinks and put their snow things out to dry. This time of year, we are told from every corner to enjoy the season, to be merry, to take time to take in the meaning of Christmas. We watch favorite Christmas movies, we make special food and frost favorite cookies. We gather for parties with friends and family and pass out presents we hope will be received with happiness. It’s good to be busy this time of year with festive things, with planning, and giggling over silly traditions and debating over who sings “White Christmas” best (Elvis gets my vote, hands down). I think while it can be hard to balance the goodness of  Christmas celebrations while pondering the meaning of them, it is entirely possible.

I’ve always heard that joy is so much more than happiness, that happiness is defined by mere circumstance. Joy is stronger than that. It breaks through our daily grind, our poor health, our poor decisions in the past, our jobs, our living situations, our never-ending to-do lists, our constantly changing lives, our heartbreak over the state of the world. Joy acknowledges the validity of all these things, I believe, and yet calls us to look upward, like the wisemen following the star to find the baby lying in a manger. We look past ourselves to something, someone greater and bigger and infinitely more jolly than what we are used to.

We look to a God who loves relationships and parties and celebrations. He has always called His people to always rejoice, to sing out loud, to praise, to be loud in love. This same God who was a man of sorrows and who knew our pain and our sin also tells us to rejoice in Him always and again says, rejoice. This is where joy comes from. He has put to flight our sin and the death we all deserve. God Himself is our Day-Spring, our Sunrise, our cheer. He has come to abide and disperse the gloomy clouds of our night, of our dark days. Our Immanuel, God Himself with us, has come to us and shall come to us again. When He comes again, it will not be in hiding, in the dark backroom of an unknown inn, in the cry of a newborn infant. He will not come in obscurity or weakness, but with all the power and glory of the Son of God revealed, the One who will come to make all things new and all things holy. He will set all things right then, all of our broken things and all the world’s broken things.

Joy starts from within, from a realization of the joyous love of God toward us, and it can’t help but radiate outward in overwhelming beams of goodwill, to ourselves and everyone. It melts our pride, our selfishness, our busyness, our chilled souls. Joy gives us new eyes to see all the blessings of God right now and for the future. Joy allows us to see others as they are and share the light and joy we’ve found with them with all the urgency and unstoppable force of a melting glacier. This is the fierceness and bigness of joy. Christmas is the perfect time to take a moment or two and realize that the joy of God is indeed in us. This is why we have parties and presents and too many cookies; why we sing carols and songs telling the world that He has come, He abides in us and He is coming again.  Let us live out this joy and realize how much He delights in us. It will change everything and we will bring His kingdom wherever we are. This joy will rise up and flood this world, our world, with warmth and light and peace.

Joy to Our World

Mortal! We Spirits of Christmas do not live only one day of our year. We live the whole three hundred and sixty-five. So is it true of the Child born in Bethlehem. He does not live in men’s hearts one day of the year, but in all the days of the year.
-A Christmas Carol

I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

-Jesus, John 10:10

I’m so excited about Christmas this year that I’ve been breaking unwritten rules by listening to Christmas albums EARLY. I find myself listening to carols on the way to work with tears streaming down my face. Pretty crazy, right? It’s just that Christmas keeps smacking me in the face with the idea of joy. This world really sucks sometimes. Broken relationships, broken dishes, broken jobs, broken bodies, broken everything sometimes. I get caught up in the brokenness a lot. So when I turn on my Christmas music, things like joy, peace, and holy nights filter past my feelings and flood my imagination. The gospel shines out like all the lit candles during a Christmas Eve service. It fills up my days like a stuffed stocking on Christmas morning. Like a star on top of a Christmas tree, the good news of Jesus coming to earth brightens and transforms my home life and my work life and everything in between.

Come and worship Christ the King. Drop whatever you’re doing and just gaze at Him. Then give Him all your gifts of sorrows, of joys, of talents, of time. Go tell it on a mountain that our Jesus Christ is born. Live your life where everyone around you can see you and hear your story of what He has done for you; for them; for all of us. Ransom captive Israel. He has freely rescued you from yourself, from sin, from people-pleasing, from a 9-5 sort of job, from our terrible histories, for His love redeems all those things. Our mourning can finally end and our rejoicing can be loud because He has finally come. No more let sins and sorrows infest the ground. Whatever you’ve done, whatever others have done to you, don’t let them take root in you! Jesus would go on to say, “Go and sin no more.“ Let us root out our sorrows and sins and allow God to plant His joy and peace in us. Our sorrows are not any less real because of Christmas, of course, but we do know that their end is finally in sight. God with man is now residing. Abiding in us. Making all things new, making abundant life in each of us. Born to die. For you, for me, for our past, for our present, and for our future.

This gospel, this good news, is why we take time to prepare and celebrate. God Himself came as a baby born in poverty, only to grow up, show us the Kingdom of God, and then die alone to save the sorry lot of humanity. Why shouldn’t it stop us in our tracks? Break us out of our routine, crack our daily mirrors, make us drop our coffee cups, keep us up at night? I don’t want to be like the innkeeper who couldn’t find any room for Jesus, the King of the Universe. Sure, He’ll find some way to make His presence known in our lives and maybe even be born in the stable in the back. But don’t I want to fully invite the glories of His righteousness, the wonders of His love, to wash over me and transform me?

So I’m making room for Him, in this upcoming Christmas season and for all the rest of the year. Let us remind ourselves of the great story of Jesus, how He came to reconcile humanity to Himself,  and how He Himself is in the business of giving joy and making all celebration possible. Let us each prepare Him room, then. Let us be filled to the brim with His joy and peace. Let us be overflowing with the joy and hope of the season all year-round, so His much-needed joy will be spread throughout this world.