Advent 3 - No room?

He could not have been busier. Bethlehem was bulging at the seams, under the weight of all the extra people in town for the census.  He loved it when the inn was full and noisy and vibrant with chatter. People. He was definitely a people person. He did his very best for his customers - he cared about their opinions and their needs, and of course, his reputation.

It had been a bit unusual, but at the time, he had thought nothing of it.  He had been in a rush, as usual. He had put them in the outhouse where he stabled the donkey and the goats - what else could he have done? At least it was dry there and fairly private.  From the looks on their faces, it seemed that their baby was on its way.

Oh God - when have I relegated you to an outer room?  I know that I sometimes leave you on the sidelines, while I busy myself with ‘more important things’, juggling one distraction with another, as they vie for my attention and time. Forgive me when I fail to remember that you alone ground me, you define me, you sustain me.  Not the other stuff.

Quietly, tucked out of the way, on the edge and in the margin, Jesus slipped into our world then, 2000 years ago. Now, as we celebrate God with us, and remember His coming, this year, this strange year, of all years, may we, today, not forget that His resurrected presence woos us and beckons us into greater intimacy and revelation. 

Is there really no room for more of Him? Or is it that there is no more room for Him?

I allow these thoughts to tumble over themselves in my mind.

Have I dismissed the whisperings of something more, something bigger, and beyond? Am I too content with the little that I’m familiar with? ...the crumbs under the table, when He has laid, before me, a feast. 

As in that most famous of all birth stories, God today continues to hide himself in plain sight, waiting, longing, even, to be sought and found. ‘Draw near to me, and I will draw near to you’. Perhaps we have drawn as close as we can bear, but then, again perhaps we have not… 

Let’s determine to move over, make some space, place more importance on coming in closer to the Saviour - taking time to listen, to watch, to be awed, to be reminded. Not rushing away.

I will make room. I must make room.

Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmannon Unsplash