Last year during Advent, instead of merely looking at a manger scene every once in a while, I began to pray with this visual each day. Instead of staring at a crucifix or contemplating another mystery of Jesus’ life, I focused on what it would have been like to be there when he was born. I realized something critical about this earth-shattering event.

Some manger scenes have lights and some are large, while others are drastically simple and small. Whatever the details might be, all of these scenes share something in common: the figures are fixated in one direction. The depictions of the shepherds, the animals, the Magi and Mary and Joseph are all looking at the empty spot for the Christ Child.

Spending an extended amount of time each day with this reality made the Christmas celebration much more impactful for me last year. This year, however, something else has drawn me in even closer. In September, my wife Joanna and I welcomed our third child, and first girl, to our family: Abigail Ann. Having a baby in the house during Advent has radically altered my perspective of preparing for Christmas.

I have come to realize that the manger-scene figures point to how babies captivate us and bring us joy. They amaze us and bring wonder to our souls. Each child is such a gift and is precious, including the Christ Child.

The awesome fact that God came into the world as a baby, and he requires that we pay attention to him if we wish to be changed, should move our souls this holy season.

He desires to grab our attention, not by entering with strength, but by coming in the power of infancy. Abby gains my attention and affection because she is mine. The birth of God on Christmas Day communicates that we are his. He deeply desires to communicate his care and love by giving us access to the intimacy of his inner life. The divine communion that defines God’s nature is what he offers to us by becoming one of us.

He invites us to be fixated on his heart.

When we keep our eyes on the Child born in Bethlehem, we begin to see that our entire lives are called to revolve around him.

The logic of God becoming an infant reveals that each life exists on purpose — and for love.

Ultimately, it is all a call to radical dependence on God. The Baby Jesus couldn’t do anything for himself. He was reliant on his parents for everything, just like Abigail is. If our God became so dependent and humble, then so should we. That journey of humble dependence on God for everything begins by committing to a posture of prayer that is captivated by and fixated towards God born among us.

As we draw closer to Christmas Day, may we pray with the manger, contemplating the magnitude of the Baby born in Bethlehem so that we can grow closer to him in the process, at Christmas and always.