The gospel famously tells us that there was no room for the baby Jesus in the inn, which raises some questions that challenge our faith and devotion:
Am I making any room for Jesus in my life?
If so, am I providing so little room that I’m sort of squeezing him in and squeezing him out? Is he able to comfortably dwell in me? to live and breathe in me?
Am I providing a hospitable and comfortable zone for those who come into my own “inn”? That is–those who come into my presence?
Am I feeding and nurturing others in the loving way that Jesus feeds and nourishes me (or at least desires to feed and nurture me)?
Is there yet room at the inn?