We have an antique chest that serves as a buffet not five steps from the front door. Contrary to my original plans, it unfortunately often becomes a dumping ground.
A few days ago I spied this scene on top of said buffet.
It reminded me of how much we crowd Jesus out of our lives. We become so very preoccupied with the trappings of this life. We fail to acknowledge or even remember the Babe, the Twelve-year-old, the Teacher, the Healer, the Worker of miracles, the Lamb that was sacrificed, the very Son of the one true God who was resurrected, and sits at the right hand of the Father.
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