In which I’ll never be ready for Christmas

This past week as I’ve been out doing errands, several people have asked me the same question: Are you ready for Christmas? I know they mean shopping and baking and what-not, but I can’t help thinking, is anyone ever really ready for Christ to arrive in their world?

And yet, ready or not, Christmas comes. Jesus comes. And if I offer the slightest opening — hey Jesus, you can have that stinky corner in the barn — if even that, he comes in and makes himself at home. And if I open the door a little wider…well, he’s likely to turn my life upside down. It’s hard to be ready for that.

I need it, though. Every year. Every day, even. And maybe it’s good that Christmas is a ready-or-not thing, so that despite my unreadiness — despite my hesitations and doubts and fears — if I crack open my heart to receive the Christ child, Christmas happens, and I’m never the same again.

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