JESUS BELONGS IN THE MIDDLE OF YOUR MESS | A Christmas Devotion

"Wait! That's not where He goes!" I grab Baby Jesus from my husband's helping hand.

Based on my biblical knowledge, I know how to depict Christ and His birth in proper nativity scene fashion.

Christ in the center. Mary adoring. Joseph standing guard. Shepherds close, but not quite there yet. Wise men only beginning their journey.

"There!" I stand back and ignore my husband's smirk. Perfection.

When my kids were little, I was forced to place the manger out of reach to keep the scene intact. But now that they're grown, I have the 1,000 square feet and all the minimalistic Christmas decorations to myself.

The tree is skinny. The garland is fluffed. The bows are crisp and taut.

I place the nativity scene on the coffee table, low enough to admire but close enough to keep an eye on it. Every now and then, I double-check to make sure the scene’s still intact.

It's almost like Christmas heaven.

Until that one time a year when my granddaughters invite their entire friend group over to our house for the Christmas parade.

Marshmallows and hot cocoa splatter the walls. Abandoned candy canes stick to couches. Cookie crumbs hide under cushions.

It's hard to police the situation, so I throw up my hands.

"Jesus, take the wheel! And maybe the egg nog, too?"

But after they all leave and the house grows quiet, I chuckle as I sweep up all the sprinkles on the kitchen floor.

Why was it so hard for me to just let go?

God's plans are always better than ours.

I put the broom down and turn to tackle the living room disaster.

Then I notice the nativity scene on the coffee table.

Wait. Something's... off.

Baby Jesus is no longer perfectly positioned in my arrangement. The shepherds I'd placed at a respectful distance? Crowded into the stable. The wise men I'd set at the edge of their journey? Kneeling at His side. Even Mary and Joseph are now tipped over, leaning on the manger.

Every single figurine, moved by little hands in the chaos, is now closer to the Christ Child than ever before.

I resist the urge to fix the scene, knowing it's exactly how God likes it.

The kids got it right.

For years, I honored Jesus by keeping Him at a distance, trying to preserve His image for future generations.

But striving for perfection, I pulled the newborn King out of everyone's hands.

Emmanuel came down to be touched. Kissed. Hugged by sticky little hands and broken, desperate hearts.

Our lives are meant to be entangled with His, not wrapped tight, but torn open with joy.

All my biblical knowledge told me where to place Jesus. It took a houseful of kids to show me where He belongs.

Turns out, I’m still learning.

To keep Jesus in His proper place, right at the center, we have to come closer and let Him have free rein of our hearts.

Nativity scene from my childhood is now part of my granddaughter’s Christmas memories.