By Leah Smith

My mom loves to tell the story of what I did with the first Nativity set I was ever given. It came from a family friend and was a wooden, hand-painted child-friendly set of the Christmas story's main characters: Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the wise men, a shepherd or two, an angel and a few animals. After receiving this beautiful gift, I promptly threw all the pieces in a bag and marched around the house, shaking the bag and saying, "Tucky Fried Chicken!" In my Christmas play, the Baby Jesus was merely a drumstick.

Nana gave Henry (Smith's son) a nativity this year. I unwrapped it carefully for him and tried to explain it in ways his year-old mind could grasp. "Here's the baby Jesus," I said. "And here's his mommy and his daddy." I talked about the wise men who came to bring Jesus presents and the shepherd who saw the angels. But Henry was really excited about the animals. "Sheep!" he cried. "Baaa. baaa. baaa. Sheep are jumping! Jump, jump, jump." So my toddler jumped around the room with the animals in his hand, the poor baby Jesus left on the table.

When I decorate for Christmas, I know exactly where the tree goes. (And my husband, Dave, knows it must be up by a certain day or I am not fun to live with). I display my snow globes on the corner of the piano. I take down certain pictures and replace them with Christmas quilts and cross-stitch. The garland above the fireplace must look just so and I arrange my mini trees on the mantel along with special photos of Christmases past. But the nativities stymie me. I'm never quite sure where to put them. I have a few of them and want to display them, but they don't seem to "fit."

Now that I'm really "the mommy" and have my own little household, I am seeing how easy it is to be overwhelmed by Christmas. I feel the pressure of the baking, the decorating, getting the Christmas pictures printed, buying the presents, wrapping the presents, bugging my husband to please tell me what his mom wants for Christmas since he certainly isn't going to buy the present himself, orchestrating the whirlwind social calendar with both sides of the family in town . . . I heard a joke at a (recent) luncheon that the "Fa la la la la" in Deck the Halls is really just the censored words of the woman in the household. It's not too far from the truth around here.

My frustration with where to display my nativities helped to bring into focus what I was lacking in this holiday season. There was no room for the baby Jesus in my home because there was no room for the baby Jesus in my heart. I was "Fa la la la la-ing" my way to December 25 with no nativity in sight.

I cried. And I prayed. "Jesus, help me see you," is really all I said. I waited. I didn't get some big lightning bolt or a desire to go trade my Christmas tree for a giant light-up baby Jesus, but I did hear Jesus speaking to my heart. I felt him telling me to be still, to listen and to celebrate his amazing birth. I felt a small slice of peace where before there was just busyness and frustration. I need more "nativity moments" like that. To celebrate, to sit in awe and worship like the shepherds did. To just be with Jesus and get to know him the way the disciples did.

My nativities are now displayed on the buffet in my dining room, within full view of all of the Christmas hubbub in our household. Hopefully they will remind us to make time for more "nativity moments" this Christmas season.