The Empty Place

We decorate our house for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving.
That tradition began years ago when my children were quite young.
I never wanted to be part of the crowds on the first official day of Christmas shopping.
It was wonderful to extend the long weekend and just be together.

Through the years, each child had their job to do.
One hung the garland on the banister and across the bridge.
One set up the manger that I had when I was a little girl.
My boys helped my husband put the lights on the trees outside.

We all decorated the tree.
My children put the ornaments on the tree, while I took them from the box.
My ooh and ahh over each ornament was something they expected.
There was a story with each one that I gladly told them each year.

The Christmas music officially began to waft through the house.
Even though new music came out each year, the old standards were always our favorites.
Bing Crosby, The Carpenters, Amy Grant, were played in the background.
Those traditions connect us to each other and the memories we share.

Now that my children are grown, with homes of their own, we still decorate together.
Those who are home for Thanksgiving, gladly help get the house ready for Christmas.
My younger son set up my old manger; he never sets it up the same way twice.
My older son helped my husband with the outdoor lights.

My oldest daughter hung the boughs over each door.
My daughter-in-love hung the garland and the needlepoint stockings from the bridge railing.
My youngest daughter and her college friend who was with us, set up the Advent calendar.
It is a piece of burlap on which hangs dowel figures and animals on each day’s square.

I saw the two girls on the floor putting each piece in place.
My daughter’s friend seemed to love setting this up.
I have never seen anything like this, she said.
It was hung where it is always hung, on the swinging door between the dining room and kitchen.

A little while after it was hung, one side came loose.
I saw my husband fix it and fasten the thumbtack on top of the door more securely.
The hemp string fits over the thumbtack and holds it in place.
Knowing my husband fixed it, I knew that it was fastened correctly.

Someone went into the dining room and stopped at the doorway.
Baby Jesus is missing, I heard them say.
We looked on the floor near the doorway but saw nothing.
We looked on the floor in the kitchen and saw nothing there either.

Are you sure it was on there? My husband asked.
My daughter and her friend were positive that all the pieces were put on the calendar.
I looked at the Advent calendar and my heart sunk.
The most important piece was missing.

We got out flashlights and searched under the dining room table and the Hoosier cabinet.
We searched under the long farm table in the kitchen.
I looked at my desk which is right next to the doorway but found nothing.
I looked at the country bench in the dining room where the Christmas dolls are placed.

Nothing.
Baby Jesus was lost.
Baby Jesus was nowhere to be found.
My heart was sad.

It will turn up, someone said.
Do you think it is one of the bins? Another asked.
I went down the basement and looked in the box which holds the calendar.
Nothing.

Baby Jesus simply vanished.

Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near. (Isaiah 55:6)

The house looks lovely.
It is cozy and inviting.
It is ready for Christmas.
However, Baby Jesus is missing; the space for Him on the calendar is empty.

How many homes have all the trimmings of a festive Christmas but do not have Jesus?
How many homes string up the lights and hand the garland but Jesus is nowhere to be found?
Christmas is not Christmas without Jesus.
His rightful place is empty when we make no room for Him.

On my walk the next morning, I remembered the craft box in an upstairs closet.
I knew that my youngest daughter had dowel people from a project she did years ago.
I went upstairs and opened the lid.
There they were; dowel people painted different colors but one was the right size.

I took out the smallest dowel person and noticed that she had painted it brown.
It was the right size.
It would fit perfectly in the manger.
However, it was not the Baby Jesus that came with our Advent calendar.

I put a piece of Velcro on the body of the little dowel person.
I put the makeshift Baby Jesus on the appropriate square.
To anyone else, it looks like it has always been there.
I know the truth.

This Baby Jesus is one of my own making.
This Baby Jesus was fabricated to fit in the place that belongs to the real One.
How many of us do the same thing?
How many of us make a Jesus in our own image because it is safer and does not confront us?

I hope that when we take down the decorations after the New Year, the real Baby Jesus is found.
Praise God that the real Jesus is in our hearts.
The real Jesus is Lord of our home.
The real Jesus is very near to us.

Losing the Baby Jesus piece from our Advent calendar makes me pray.
I pray for those who do not know Him.
I pray for those who do not realize that the Reason for Christmas is missing from their lives.
Perhaps God allowed the Baby Jesus piece to disappear so that I will not take Him for granted.

Jesus is the Reason for Christmas.
Jesus is the piece that is missing from our cold hearts.
There is no Christmas without Christ.
Maybe I should leave the place on the Advent calendar empty as a reminder.