Luke 2:1–7

It is funny how the story sneaks up on you. Not the twinkly Hallmark version, but the quieter one tucked into Luke’s Gospel, the weary couple, the long road to Bethlehem, and that awkward moment when someone shrugs and says, “Sorry… no room.” And you wonder, really? No room for them?

Some days it feels like that is us, rifling through the cluttered drawers of our minds, juggling notifications, grocery lists, and a half-eaten sandwich on the counter. Somewhere in that chaos, Jesus is politely clearing his throat, “Hey, I am still here.” I have caught myself trying to squeeze spiritual life into leftover spaces, the way you cram one more suitcase into the trunk of a car that is already groaning.

Scripture never shows Jesus as a pushy guest. He stands at the door with patient steadiness. Revelation says he knocks and waits, which feels almost too gentle. He does not force his way in. He waits for an invitation. Imagine that the King of heaven is asking for a seat at your table (Revelation 3:20).

Yet life gets loud. Distracting. Chaotic. We mean to make room, but the room often looks more like a storage closet stacked with anxieties, obligations, and all the things we hope no one notices.

So, how do we clear space that does not seem to exist? I do not have all the answers, but Scripture nudges us toward a few practices that help.

First, Jesus calls us to seek God’s kingdom first. Not tenth. Not “once things slow down.” First. And priorities really do fall into place when we start there. “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33).

Then there is spiritual nourishment. A hungry soul behaves a lot like a hungry toddler, cranky and easily overwhelmed. Scripture, prayer, even a quiet moment with a devotional can settle the storm in ways nothing else can. God’s words are sweeter than honey, the Psalmist said, and honestly, they are a lot like a warm cup of coffee on a cold morning, steadying and surprisingly necessary (Psalm 119:103).

Community matters too. A church family is more than a Sunday routine. It is a mix of encouragement, accountability, and shared faith that keeps us from drifting into isolation. “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works… encouraging one another” (Hebrews 10:24–25).

And once Jesus has a place in your life, his light spills into the cracks. You notice people more. You soften quicker. You speak kinder words. Jesus said we are the light of the world, which still amazes me, considering how often I misplace my own flashlight (Matthew 5:14).

What I keep learning is that making room for Jesus is not a one-time decision. It is daily. Sometimes hourly. But the reward, peace, joy, and steady love, is something you cannot buy on Amazon. This Christmas, we need to clear out the manger of our hearts. The King isn’t seeking perfection; he’s just looking for space. Once he has it, everything starts to change.