Don't get me wrong, I passionately love the finished product and the luminous glow of all the lights throughout my living room, but the decorating part always seems to leave me in a grumpy, irritated mood. Yes indeed.
And not to mention my decorating process began with the attic floor falling beneath my feat as I was getting decorations down. Yes, an entire side of our attic floor bottomed-out while I (thankfully) was sanding on a beam, balancing as it crashed. That will put you in the Christmas spirit real fast.
Nonetheless, 4 shattered Christmas balls later, I'm done. And since I had a headache 1/2 way through the process (I love hormones), my kitchen is really done half-heartedly.
We recently got rid of the bookshelves in our room to make way for my grandmother's hutch, and thus I don't even have space now to house the Christmas goodies I had last year. So a lot of things remained in their wrappers and are headed back to the attic (the one with the current huge whole though the floor).
One of the things that didn't make the cut this year was the nativity scene. It's too big, doesn't really match the other decor (it's actually just not even pretty). Maybe next year.
But when my intuitive
"Where's baby Jesus mom?! Mom, where are we going to put baby Jesus???" implying I obviously wasn't finished decorating yet.
And yall, I kid you not, I found myself saying these exact words to him this morning:
"We just don't have room for Baby Jesus this year, Lincoln. Sorry!"
There's no room for Jesus...we're all filled up.
Hmm...those words suddenly sounded super familiar. And I was convicted as I looked at my concerned 4-year-old.
And guess what? We busted out that nativity scene, swapped it's "not-so-pretty" with one of my more modern pieces, and baby Jesus now sits in glory on the hutch in the foyer.
My personal reminder this season to make room for Jesus.
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