I was in a barn the other day, marveling at the smell. I have given birth to all my babies in temperature and germ-controlled hospitals.

I am not going to lie, I would not want to have a baby in a barn then put him in a feeding trough to sleep.

I love animals, but the whole thing seems so desperate and impoverished.

Surely the Lord of the universe could have given the kid a motel room?!

The birth of Jesus was deeply inconvenient, fraught with the appearance of impropriety, and a life-long exile from paradise for the Baby in the manger.

To many people his life would look like a mistake, but they would be wrong. The birth of this child in the barn was the most important in history.

An event I take quite personally. My life and hope returned, my spiritual debt paid. My life sentence taken by Another.

What would I do without you, Jesus?