It’s so easy to lose focus this time of year. I think of Mary and Martha, and how the elder sister saw all that needed to be done and went about doing it, maybe with a little resentment in her heart. It sure must be nice, she must have thought, to just sit in there and hang on every word Jesus says. But somebody’s got to cook this meat and get the bread in the oven and set the table and make sure the centerpiece looks nice. Where are all these people going to sit? Martha was so busy working hard and doing her very best to make things good and nice and to show these people that she knew how to pull off the magic of a delicious, warm meal and the beauty of a truly hospitable night in her home. But the Son of God was sitting in her living room, and she was missing Him.

Sometimes I wonder if I were in Bethlehem on the night Jesus was born, would I recognize that something special was going on? When I saw an unusual distant light out in the fields, would I stop to think spiritual thoughts? Would I feel an excitement when the shepherds later ran through the streets, stopping to tell me about what had happened that night? Or would I see that the shepherds were coming up my street and quickly shut the door because there’s so much to do that I don’t have time to mess with those guys. It’s crazy to think that there were faithful people in Bethlehem, probably only steps from the place where Jesus was born, who never even stopped to notice that God was near. They, like us, were already wrapped up in all the things that need to be done and thought about and taken care of, and they weren’t looking. The radiance of God’s glory, the exact representation of His being, was lying just down the street, and people were thinking about bread and clothes and going to the store and which chores needed to be done next.

I feel sure that Christmastime is meant to be a time of deep spiritual contemplation, but I often find December to be one of the most diffficult times of the year to seek the Lord. Often by the time I get to Christmas week, I feel like I’m out on the porch, making lists, figuring out logistics, double checking all of the things that need to be planned, done, attended, cooked, wrapped, and enjoyed. I’m out on the porch, so close to where Jesus is, inside a warm house, teaching, offering His rest and peace, granting His wisdom and love, and like Martha, I’m missing Him. Like those clueless people in Bethlehem, I’m too focused on the meat and the bread and the chores to just walk a few steps to rest in the presence of God.

But it isn’t too late. Jesus is near. He’s accessible and He’s knowable, and He wants so much more than our good works and our checked lists and our magical hospitality. The only way to have a heart that is tuned to His is to sit at His feet, to seek His face, to trade in our distractions for His presence. It’s not a bad thing to be the person who is making Christmas fun happen–it’s an honor and a joy. But when it draws us away from the very One whose presence we’re celebrating, it is no longer a marker of what Christ has done and who He is–it’s just another thing to make it through. I don’t want to get to December 31st and realize that, once again, Jesus was in the manger, and I missed Him because I was just trying to survive the holidays.

I want to take a breath. I want to open His word. I want to hear from Him. I want to sit at His feet and meditate on who He is and what all this is for. When Martha complained to Jesus that Mary was just lounging at Jesus’ feet and not helping her, Jesus gave her a very simple answer: “Martha, Martha…you’re worried about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen the better thing.” I don’t want to let the good things crowd out the best, not at Christmastime or any other time. Jesus is in the manger. He’s in the house. Let’s go and see.