When I was 18 years old, I had the rare opportunity to work on an OB floor. Each day, I arrived in my normal clothes, then stepped into the locker room to change into freshly washed scrubs. We scrubbed in—washing away bacteria, mess, and everything from the outside world. Before each shift, we received a report on every woman in labor and where she was in the process.
Walking onto that floor, you learned quickly: everything else stayed at the door. The focus was the baby that was about to come.
Over the year I worked there, I learned so much about birth. In our world, we do everything we can to protect mothers and babies from harm. We educate, prepare, sanitize, and control as much as possible. Birth itself was always clean—but also incredibly messy. And we did our best to make sure that when visitors arrived, they never saw what we had seen.
They didn’t see the blood.
They didn’t hear the screams.
They didn’t witness the fear in a father’s eyes.
They never held the baby before it was cleaned, wrapped, and presented.
The mess was hidden.
That’s what makes the birth of Jesus such a paradox.
In Luke 2, the Savior of the world does not enter a sterile, protected environment. He was born into what was considered unclean—laid in a manger, a feeding trough meant for animals. God does not sanitize the scene. He does not hide the mess. He steps directly into it.
Why would God choose that?
Could it be because he wanted to show us he is not afraid of the places we try to hide? That he is willing to enter the mess we don’t want others to see? The fear no one hears. The cries we silence. The places we’re afraid to let anyone in.
Jesus was born where animals come when they are hungry. And maybe that is not accidental. Those of us hungry for truth, for healing, for hope are invited to come to the manger too. To be fed by the bread of life. To be strengthened by his presence.
Life is messy, much like the birth of Jesus. But when we humble ourselves and remember where it all began, we find strength to continue the work he started. In this upside-down kingdom, God shows us the way—not by avoiding the mess, but by entering it with us.
He is the way, the truth, and the life—and he meets us right where we are.
Reflection:
- Which parts of your life do you try hardest to keep hidden or cleaned up?
- How does Jesus’ willingness to enter the mess change how you approach him?
- Where might God be inviting you to come hungry to the manger?