If the young, expectant father (lowercase f) from the House of David had knocked on a hundred doors in Bethlehem that night, he would have received the same response. Maybe he did. Scripture does not make us privy to the finer details of their lodging, but regardless, a proper room was never going to be offered to the weary couple who had traveled so far. Though recent events had made them no strangers to the supernatural workings of the Holy Spirit, God had a far grander plan for the birth of His Son than even Joseph and Mary could have imagined.

The artist in me appreciates the speculation of God choosing a stable rather than room 5B at the top of the stairs. I would not want to see a hotel lit up on my dining room sideboard every December. Where would I put the star?

We read the Christmas story from Luke and deeply commiserate with this homeless couple. We women especially feel Mary’s distress as she sat laboring on a donkey, watching her husband receive the same disappointing answer from every distracted “innkeeper” in town.

But no one was ever going to invite them in. That is the way God planned it. Since the heartbreak of Eden, the Lord of Creation had purposefully orchestrated every detail of His merciful rescue to reconcile and redeem what had been lost there.

The “room” Joseph and Mary were given that night in Bethlehem was akin to a lowly stable elevated to the highest heaven, as the great I Am lay beneath its roof in an animal’s feeding trough filled with hay. Engulfed in the Shekinah Glory of its Creator, hope returned to Earth as angels heralded the long-awaited news of the Messiah’s birth. God had come for His own.

No—no one behind the closed doors of that unsuspecting town was ever going to make room for Jesus that night. But two thousand and twenty-five years later, that Holy Child in the manger offers us “The Innkeeper’s Do-over” —the opportunity to make room for Him everyday in every area of our lives.

When we recently remodeled our den, the order came to remove everything from the room so our contractor might work unhindered by all that filled it. For me and my husband, this offered the opportunity to take inventory of twenty-five years of living in a space where the contents had sat neglected for far too long. Clearing it all out became an eye-opening experience that left us feeling both nostalgic and disgusted.

Making room—no—preparing room—for Jesus can leave us feeling much the same way.

Preparing room is a far better description of the process, for it suggests forethought, purpose, and desire—not a mere swiping off of whatever is in the chair so someone will have a place to sit. Preparing room in our hearts for Jesus is an intentional choice. Creating that room in the center is even more so.

But what does that look like?

• Sometimes preparing Him room means abandoning the worldly distractions that claim too much precious real estate in our overcrowded minds—the clutter that robs us of our time, our best thoughts, and efforts. Too many electives can drain our energy for more worthy pursuits. (Hebrews 12:1-2)
  
• Often preparing Him room will involve a reprioritizing of the already important things in our world—knowing that He will place them all in proper order. (Mathew 6:33)
  
• Preparing Him room most certainly will require the removal of what is broken, rotten, or useless—the rubble that should have been thrown out long ago. (Psalm 101:2-4)
  
• Sometimes it is the exchange of a thieving selfishness that stealthily invades every aspect of our lives, for an outward and upward attitude that transforms all we see and do. (Philippians 2:3-4)
  
• Preparing Him room will always mean holding our own agenda loosely, so when God knocks, we eagerly welcome the kingdom work He has for us. (Colossians 2:23-24)
  
• Finally, and most essentially, preparing Him room means chiseling out purposeful time to spend with our Heavenly Father. Time set apart to be filled with His Word and allow Him to prepare us for the day ahead. Time to relish a sweet and restoring fellowship that clears out the cobwebs and fills us with His peace. (Psalm 5:3)

Our den is almost finished. Last night, the glow from the fireplace lit corners we forgot existed. After a month of decluttering, we know what is in there, where, and why.

Now, onto the next twenty-five years of living in this roomy, reclaimed space.

Joy to the world the Lord has come.

Let earth receive her King. Let every heart prepare Him room.

And heaven and nature sing!