There’s a chill that slips into the air this time of year—reminding us that yet another December has arrived.
Lights start showing up on houses. Inflatable snowmen begin their month-long struggle against gravity. And every store you walk into has already been playing that same 1998 Christmas playlist since sometime in October.
But while the world is busy cranking up the crazy, the heart needs something more quiet.
The older I get, the more I’m convinced that preparing for Christmas isn’t really about getting ready, at least not in the way the world measures readiness.
It’s not about having the tree trimmed by the day after Thanksgiving.
Nor is it about crossing names off a gift list, or baking cookies that—if we’re honest—mostly get eaten before the guests arrive.
In my mind… preparing for Christmas is about making room.
Not in our house, but in our heart.
Luke tells the Christmas story with a single, simple sentence:
“Mary gave birth to her firstborn son… and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”
- Luke 2:7
No room.
Two thousand years later, that line still feels like it’s talking about us.
Because if we were an inn in Bethlehem, most of us would likely have the “NO VACANCY” sign glowing brightly.
Schedules full.
Minds cluttered.
Hearts crowded with busyness, worry, lists, noise, expectations—and the tiredness that settles in behind all of it.
And yet Jesus comes quietly.
Softly.
Gently.
Like a baby in the night.
He doesn’t force His way in.
He waits for room.
Preparing our hearts for Christmas starts with small acts of slowing down and calming our spirit… and whispering a simple prayer:
“Lord, make room in me.”
The world speeds up in December.
God moves at a different speed.
The miracle of Christmas was never dependent on human preparation. Jesus arrived whether Bethlehem was ready or not.
But for the miracle of Christmas to become real in us—we have to pause long enough to dwell on Jesus… the One announced by the angels and born in that manger in that stable so long ago.
Sometimes the holiest thing we can do is turn off the noise and sit in the glow of a Christmas tree, letting the quiet remind us that the Savior has come—and is more than enough.
Sometimes we just need to make room in the Inn… make room in our heart and let Jesus in.
Lord, slow me down long enough to hear You.
Clear the clutter in my heart.
Make room in me for Your peace, Your joy, and Your presence.
Prepare me—not just for Christmas, O Lord—but for You. Amen.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
