Plenty of room

Three of us were travelling to London by car this week and my friend let me go in the front seat. I always feel bad when other people are crushed in the back so I asked her if she had plenty of  room for her legs. It's a Mercedes and she assured me she had room. I also had more than enough room, as I have short legs to go with my short body. In an effort to make her journey even more comfortable I decided I would move my seat forward anyway. I pulled the lever and shot backwards, crushing her ankles under my seat and ramming the back of it into her knees. The pain of no longer having plenty of room resulted in a loud scream. Strangely enough, it made me think of Christmas. There should have been room in Bethlehem for a heavily pregnant woman on the day her baby was due, but unfortunately somebody had decided to crush a lot of people into the town. I don't know if Mary screamed when Jesus was born in the stable but I do know she could have done with a more generous room. Jesus was restricted from the word go. He was God and he had always had plenty of room, but when he came to earth to save people from their sins, he was scrunched into a womb, squeezed into a stable, nailed to a cross and sealed in a tomb. After three days he threw off the restrictions and brought life and immortality to anyone who would like to ditch the constraints of mortality and live a spacious life here, and in eternity.