Inn or Stable?

Here we are. The day before Christmas Eve.

Many people have asked, Are you ready for Christmas? More people than I can count. What does that question mean? In the middle of writing this post someone just asked, “Are you ready for Christmas?”

How does that question translate?

Is your house clean and in order? (Are you kidding me?)

Is your tree up and decorated? (Yes. Crazy lights and red ornaments and all.)

Are all your presents bought and wrapped? (Bought? Yes. Wrapped? Not yet.)

Have your packages been boxed and mailed? (Nope, I fail with that one every year.)

Is your baking done? (No, that grand event begins tomorrow.)

Are you ready for Christmas?

Am I ready for Christmas, Father?

On this Christmas Eve Eve what preparations do I need to make? What do I need to do for this Baby to be birthed in my heart anew?

Will I be the inn or the stable?

Will I send you away—not recognizing you in the trappings of humanity? Will I tell you there’s no room because I have filled this heart of mine with so many other things? Will I dismiss the niggling feeling I have beneath my skin as just the jittery adrenaline of the season? Will I be able to discern your voice in the cacophony of the crowded streets around me?

Will I invite you in and recognize you for who you really are? Will I throw open the door of my heart regardless of the cobwebs and dustiness? Will I make a place for you in my warm and pungent scented stalls? Will I be able to set aside my embarrassment and just simply tell you to come on in? Will I welcome you despite the fact that I am a stable and inevitably filthy?

Am I ready for Christmas, Father?

Someone just asked me that question again.