This time of year, I often spend a few days re-reading one of my favorite Advent devotionals, Kneeling in Bethlehem by Ann Weems. Today, I’d like to share her poem, In Search of Our Kneeling Places:
In each heart lies a Bethlehem,
an inn where we must ultimately answer
whether there is room or not.
When we are Bethlehem-bound
we experience our own advent in his.
When we are Bethlehem-bound
we can no longer look the other way
conveniently not seeking stars
nor hearing angel voices.
We can no longer excuse ourselves by busily
tending our sheep or our kingdom.
This Advent let’s go to Bethlehem
and see this thing that the Lord has made known to us.
In the midst of shopping sprees
let’s ponder in our hearts the Gift of Gifts.
Through the tinsel
let’s look for the gold of the Christmas Star.
In the excitement and confusion, in the merry chaos,
let’s listen for the brush of angels’ wings.
This Advent, let’s go to Bethlehem
and find our kneeling places.
Ann Weems invites us into a holy, quiet space where hope rises like a small flame in the dark. Her poetry reminds us that the Bethlehem story isn’t meant to be observed from a distance. It’s meant to pull us down to our knees—into humility, into wonder, into the rawness of God choosing to enter our world in vulnerability. Advent is not sentimental; it’s disruptive. It rearranges our lives. It asks us to make room in our busy lives for Bethlehem.
Bethlehem is not only a place on a map; it’s a posture of the heart. A place where we stop long enough to notice that God is already here. A place where hope is born in small and surprising ways. A place where joy can break through in the middle of ordinary days.
Perhaps our invitation this Advent is to find our kneeling place. It may be in a comfy chair by the living room window, in the car before the day begins, or in bed in those moments just before sleep. Wherever it is, let it be the place where you lower the defenses that keep you from wonder.
Ann Weems reminds us that Christmas happens when we make room. This Advent, may your Bethlehem be close and real. And may you find yourself, in quiet and unexpected moments, kneeling before the God who came to Bethlehem to be with us and who chooses to be with us still.
Have a blessed day!
