“It was the busiest season I had ever seen as an innkeeper, a once-in-a-lifetime business bonanza for me, courtesy of Caesar Augustus and his census. Overnight lodging was in great demand. My inn was booked solid for a month, and that income set me up for life.

“But then that couple showed up. How was I to know who they were? They looked no different than a dozen other families that I’d already turned away. So I just said, ‘Sorry, we’re booked. We have no vacancies. There is no room for you.’

“I thought I would at least do them a favor and allow them to sleep with the animals in the stable behind the inn. Obviously, I didn’t know who they were. But for all of history and the rest of eternity, I’ll be known as the man who said, ‘Sorry, no room.’  I’m the one who put the Savior of the world out back with the animals. That’s my legacy: I didn’t make room for Jesus.

“I missed Jesus because I was too busy to realize what God was doing right in front of me. It was an inconvenient time for Jesus to show up, so I just pushed him off in a corner. But now that I think about it, it seems that there’s always some distraction, inconvenience, or preoccupation to use as an excuse not to make room for Jesus.

“If I could do it all over, I would have given him the whole inn. I missed the knock on my door. But for you, there’s still time to receive him. There’s still time to look at your life, to consider whether your rooms are filled with what matters most or if they’re just cluttered. You still have time to reserve a place for the most important guest of all.”

When Jesus knocks, you can give him the welcome and the reception that he deserves as your Creator and Savior and King of Kings. And he will knock, because your heart was designed for God to live in. In fact, he’s knocking right now. Can you hear him? Are you paying attention? Will you open the door?