The Christmas story begins with a striking detail: when Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem, there was no room for them in the inn (Luke 2:7). The innkeeper wasn’t hostile; his house was simply full. Yet in that crowded space, the greatest opportunity in history was missed. The Son of God entered the world, and the door was closed.

That moment is more than history. It is a reflection as looking in a mirror. The innkeeper didn’t know who was knocking. But today, believers do know Jesus. We confess Him as Lord, we celebrate His birth, and we proclaim His resurrection. And yet, many of us still live as though there is no room for Him in our daily lives. The tragedy is not ignorance, but neglect.

Jesus warned of this danger in the parable of the sower. He described seed that fell among thorns, representing those who hear the Word but allow the cares, riches, and pleasures of life to choke it out (Luke 8:14; Matthew 13:22; Mark 4:19). The seed is good, the soil has potential, but the distractions suffocate growth. For believers, this is not a rejection of Christ — it is a slow drift, a subtle crowding out. Hebrews 2:1 cautions us to pay careful attention so that we do not drift away.

Busyness is often the culprit. Work deadlines, family responsibilities, and digital noise fill our schedules until there is no margin left for prayer, Scripture, or worship. Martha experienced this tension when she was distracted with much serving while Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet (Luke 10:40). Martha wasn’t doing wrong things — she was simply too busy to enjoy the better portion. How often do we resemble her, rushing through life while neglecting the One we claim to love?

The consequences are sobering. When believers consistently crowd out Christ, we not only grieve the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 4:30), but we risk quenching His fire (1 Thessalonians 5:19). Lack of surrender, lack of submission, and lack of Spirit‑led control leave us spiritually dry. The innkeeper missed Jesus because his house was full. We miss Him because our hearts are cluttered.

Yet the good news is that Jesus still knocks. Revelation 3:20 pictures Him standing at the door, seeking fellowship with His people. He doesn’t force His way in; He waits for us to open. The invitation is clear: make room again. Psalm 46:10 calls us to be still and know that He is God. Matthew 6:33 reminds us to seek first His kingdom. Romans 12:2 urges us not to conform to the hurried patterns of this world but to be transformed by renewing our minds.

Making room for Jesus is not all about salvation. It is about forming an eternal, yet daily, relationship. It means reordering priorities so that Christ is first, not last. It means creating margin in our schedules for prayer, worship, and reflection. It means choosing presence over productivity, valuing time with Jesus more than endless tasks.

Practically, this looks like daily rhythms of devotion. Examples include Scripture before screens and prayer before emails. Weekly rhythms of worship include guarding the Lord’s Day as sacred, not optional, and participating in corporate worship with other believers. It looks like relational rhythms. Intentionally invite Christ into conversations, meals, and family decisions. In our serving, we make room for Him by serving others in His name. Joshua 24:15 declares that as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. Colossians 3:17 calls us to do everything in the name of Christ.

The challenge is simple but profound: don’t let busyness rob you of intimacy with Jesus. The inn was full, but your heart doesn’t have to be. Romans 13:14 urges us to put on the Lord Jesus Christ and not make provision for the flesh. When we intentionally clear space for Him, we discover that His presence brings peace, His Word brings fruit, and His Spirit brings fire.

Imagine the innkeeper years later, perhaps hearing rumors of the Child born in Bethlehem. Did he ever wonder what might have been if he had made room? We don’t have to live with that regret. We know Who is knocking. We know the One who seeks fellowship. The question is whether we will open the door.

This Christmas, and every day beyond, believers are called to prepare Him room. Joy to the World proclaims it: “Let every heart prepare Him room.” More than a lyric, it calls us into a lifestyle. It is the daily choice to welcome Christ into our crowded schedules, our distracted minds, and our hurried hearts.

So, pause. Reflect. Ask yourself: Where have I knowingly let the cares of this world choke out Christ’s Word? Where have I grieved or quenched the Spirit by neglecting His presence? And where can I intentionally make room again?

The innkeeper didn’t know. We do. Don’t be guilty of crowding out the One we confess. Make room for Jesus, not just at Christmas, but every day.