The Christmas season has always–even into my adulthood–held such joy and wonder for me. When I was younger and before my grandfather passed away, I looked forward to Christmas eve at my grandparents house the most. Not only was it a bustling home filled with family, gift giving, and so much food, but it was also the place we all met to hear the story of the birth of Jesus in my grampy’s gentle voice. The last Christmas eve I remember him reading it to us, he barely made it half way through before his voice became thick with emotion. His heart had always been so tender towards the Lord, but this time I could hear it in every word he read from the precious Book he held.

That night, at a very young age, was the first time I felt the tangible and sweet presence of Jesus.

For those of us who know the whole story, we realize that this is how the King of the world was supposed to come to earth from heaven: poor, wrapped in strips of cloth, and laid in a stinky trough. I imagine doors were closed in Joseph’s face multiple times as he searched for a comfortable place for his betrothed to give birth to the Savior of the world.

But no room was made for Him.

This year, I became acutely aware of how very little room we still make for His presence. In the hustle and bustle of the countdown of shopping days, I realized the level of importance centered around giving the right gift or making sure others know the right gift to give each other. I saw–and experienced–more than my share of rude, angry, impatient, and obnoxious patrons in my store. And I, myself, became stressed to the point of tears on more than one occasion at the thought of not being financially able to give gifts to everyone I love.

All of this overshadowed the joy and wonder of the Christmas season for me, and made me long for it to be over.

My dad and I both had the same thought Christmas morning. He said to me, “If I had my way, I would not do gifts and only talk about why the day is what it really is.” We chatted for a few moments about why Christmas is so special and it helped to usher in, for me, the Spirit of the season. I captured, once again, the joy and wonder of the day and held on to it from that moment.

The remainder of the day was busy and full of family, food, and presents. In the oppressive moments of overstimulation, I leaned back into the presence of my Savior, Jesus Christ–the best and most important gift I’ve ever received.

Thank you, Lord, for Your presence in my life through the gift of Your Son, Jesus. When the world tries to tell me that anything other than You is important, wrap me up in the fullness of your love for me as I acknowledge how you became poor so that in your poverty, I might become rich. Amen