I pushed past the crowd to get outside. I needed air. The guests could wait. After all, it was my inn. I could do what I wanted.
A baby's muffled cry came from the barn. I'd forgotten about that young couple. I felt bad turning them away, but really, where could I put them? Did I mention the inn was full?
A light coming from the sky--something I'd never seen before-- beckoned me, Come.
So I did. I followed the light to the barn where I found the most precious and beautiful baby lying in the straw. His mother didn't seem to mind that all she had were some rags to wrap him in. His father didn't appear angry that I'd turned them away.
Instead, they welcomed me. I joined the throng of onlookers--dirty shepherds, the likes of which I'd never allow in my B&B, stood next to respected wise men (the kind I regularly welcomed). Each one seemed to be as awed as I was. Who was this baby, and how could he have this affect on us?
As if reading my mind, his mother turned to us and said, "His name is Jesus. Emmanuel."
God with us.
I glanced back at the inn and thought of all that I still had to do. Then this God With Us child gave a tiny sigh. It was barely audible, but it echoed through the noise in my head and fought for a place in my heart.
I decided to stay. Surely, I could find room at the inn of my heart for this child.
As you move into Christmas, trying to get all those last minute details perfect, I'd like to challenge you to ask yourself what I asked myself this week:
Is there room at the inn of my heart for Christ? If not, what have I made so important that I've pushed Him out into the cold?
There's still time. It's never too late to prepare a room for Him. Never too late to receive him. Never.
If we don't praise Him, even the rocks will cry out! (Luke 19:40 paraphrased)
Joy to the world! the Lord is come.
Let earth receive her king!
Let every heart prepare Him room.
And heaven and nature sing...
Enjoy this classic Joy to the World by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.