Revelation 3:20 — Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.
My dad surrendered his life to Jesus when I was about seven, and everything changed in our house. He started taking us to church and singing in the choir. One of my biggest memories of his singing was Christmas — because he was always in the church Christmas musical.
As much as I loved hearing my dad, my favorite singer was Mr. Roy Reynolds, the church bass. When he sang, he would curl his lower lip and rumble out these deep notes you could feel in your chest. As a kid, he was my favorite to watch because of all the funny faces he made.
Every Christmas, Mr. Roy played the innkeeper — which was huge to me — because he sang a solo called “No Room.”
Our musical had one of the deacons and a sweet lady from church dressed as Joseph and Mary — bathrobes, cloths over their heads, and a baby doll in their arms. They would walk from door to door on the set, knocking, hoping someone had space for them.
Then they’d reach the inn. Mr. Roy would step out, chest high and voice booming with joy because he knew his one line was coming:
“NO ROOM!”
As a kid, I thought the innkeeper was the villain. I imagined him wearing a black hat like in old westerns — the man who turned away Jesus. Jesus came to save the world, and this guy put Him in a barn.
It made all of us feel better about ourselves. We’d never turn away Jesus… right?
But years later, after I’d grown in faith, I realized the innkeeper wasn’t a bad guy. He was just… a guy. Busy. Overwhelmed. Trying to handle life. And when the holy moment knocked on his door, he didn’t recognize it for what it was.
I told a pastor this story once. He smiled and said, “You know… the innkeeper gave Him a place. He just didn’t give Him the place.”
And suddenly Revelation 3:20 took on a whole new meaning: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock…”
The innkeeper didn’t reject Jesus with malice. He just didn’t make room for Him. He offered something — but not his best.
And if I’m honest, I see myself in him more than I’d like to admit.
This Christmas, as the calendar fills and the urgency of life crowds in… how willing am I to stop and make room for Jesus? Not just a place — but the place?
— Mark Hall, CASTING CROWNS
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
- Where in your life do you feel “crowded” — emotionally, mentally, or spiritually — making it harder to slow down and notice Jesus knocking?
- What would it look like to give Jesus not just a place in your day, but the place?
- Think of a time when you almost missed something meaningful because you were busy. How might that relate to letting Jesus in more fully this season?
- Are there habits, distractions, or pressures that are keeping you from opening the door more widely to Him?
- How might you intentionally create space for Jesus — in your home, your schedule, your relationships — as you move through the Christmas season?