Now, I don’t usually go around promoting places on my blog. That’s not really what Mornings with Grace is about. But sometimes you stumble across something so special, so worth sharing, that you just have to break your own rules.
Last December, on one of those bone-chilling Pennsylvania days when the wind cuts right through your coat, Kevin, Michael, and I decided to visit the National Christmas Center in Elizabethtown. I’d heard whispers about this place, but honestly? I wasn’t prepared for what we’d find inside those doors.
What started as a simple family outing turned into something much deeper. A gentle reminder about getting lost in all the beautiful extras and forgetting the one story that started it all.
The Overwhelming Wonder of Christmas Abundance
Walking into the National Christmas Center is like stepping into every childhood Christmas dream rolled into one magnificent experience. Eighteen thousand square feet of pure Christmas magic spread out before us, and I’m not exaggerating when I say my jaw dropped.
The first thing that hit me was the 1950s storefronts. Perfect little shops lined up like something from a Norman Rockwell painting, complete with vintage toy displays and old-fashioned Christmas windows that made me feel like a kid pressing my nose against the glass. Michael kept pointing at different toys, asking if I’d had those when I was little. Some of them, yes! The memories came flooding back with each carefully arranged display.
Then we turned the corner and found ourselves surrounded by over a thousand nativity scenes from around the world. A thousand! Can you even imagine? Each one telling the same beautiful story but through different cultural lenses, different artistic styles, different materials. Some were carved from wood, others molded from clay, still others crafted from materials I couldn’t even identify. It was breathtaking and overwhelming all at once.
But that was just the beginning. We wandered through Tudor Towne, this fully animated village that seemed to come alive before our eyes. The attention to detail was incredible – every tiny window lit up, every miniature character positioned just so. Kevin kept marveling at the craftsmanship, the hours of work that must have gone into creating something so intricate.
The Gurley candles display took me straight back to my grandmother’s house. Rows and rows of those classic 1950s Christmas candles, the kind that used to grace every mantle in America. And the Byers’ Choice carolers! Oh my goodness, hundreds of them, each one hand-crafted right here in Pennsylvania. Their little faces so detailed, their Christmas coats so perfectly stitched.
Then we stumbled into something completely unexpected – a massive Titanic model. Twenty-two feet long, lit with miles of fiber-optic lights, sitting right there in the middle of a Christmas museum. It seemed so out of place at first, until I realized it was part of this incredible toy and model collection. Over five thousand hand-painted toy soldiers marched in formation nearby, alongside ships and trains and planes that would make any collector weep with joy.
Every corner held another surprise. Anastasia’s Doll Emporium with dolls that looked more like works of art than toys. Vintage Christmas cards covering entire walls. Music boxes playing familiar carols that had me humming along before I even realized it.
As we moved from room to room, I found myself thinking about how Christmas has grown over the centuries. What started as a simple story in Bethlehem has blossomed into this beautiful, complex tapestry of traditions from around the world. Each display represented someone’s way of celebrating, someone’s cultural expression of joy and wonder.
The sheer abundance was almost overwhelming. So many stories, so many traditions, so many ways that different cultures have chosen to celebrate this season. It was beautiful and inspiring and just a little bit dizzying.
But somewhere in the middle of all that wonder, a quiet thought began to form in my heart.
When Abundance Becomes Distraction
Standing there in the middle of all that Christmas wonder, surrounded by thousands of beautiful displays, I felt something shift in my heart. It wasn’t a bad feeling – more like a gentle nudge from the Holy Spirit, the kind that makes you pause and really think.
Here we were, walking through room after room of Christmas magic, and I realized how easy it would be to get completely lost in all of it. To spend hours admiring the craftsmanship of those toy soldiers, or getting caught up in the nostalgia of those 1950s storefronts, or marveling at the intricate details of Tudor Towne.
Don’t get me wrong – it was all breathtaking. Every single display represented hours of love and creativity. But as we moved deeper into the museum, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was exactly what happens to us during our own Christmas celebrations.
We start with the best intentions. We want to create magical memories for our families, to honor traditions that connect us to our past, to celebrate this holy season in meaningful ways. But somehow, without even realizing it, we can get so caught up in all the beautiful extras that we lose sight of the main event.
It’s like being tourists who spend so much time in the gift shop that they never actually see the monument they came to visit. We get distracted by the Santa stories, the reindeer tales, the elaborate decorating schemes, the perfect family gatherings we’re trying to orchestrate. Before we know it, Christmas morning arrives and we’re exhausted from all the preparation, wondering where the joy went.
I thought about my own Christmases growing up. How excited I’d get about the presents under the tree, the cookies we’d bake, the lights we’d drive around to see. All wonderful things! But if I’m being honest, Jesus often felt like just another character in the Christmas story, no more central than Santa or the elves.
Even now, as an adult who loves the Lord, I catch myself getting swept up in the same patterns. Worrying about whether the house looks festive enough, whether I’ve bought enough gifts, whether our Christmas dinner will be memorable. All good things, but not the main thing.
Kevin nudged me as we walked, pointing to a particularly elaborate display of vintage Christmas villages. “Look at all this,” he whispered. “It’s incredible, but can you imagine trying to set this up in your living room every year?”
That’s when it hit me. This museum, as beautiful as it was, had become a perfect metaphor for how Christmas can grow and grow until the original story gets buried under layers of lovely additions.
I watched other families moving through the exhibits, and I saw the same wonder in their eyes that I felt in my own heart. Children pointing excitedly at different displays, parents sharing memories triggered by familiar decorations. But I also noticed something else – how quickly we moved from one elaborate scene to the next, always looking for the next spectacular thing.
It reminded me of how we can treat Christmas itself. Always adding more traditions, more decorations, more activities, more ways to make it special. And in our eagerness to create the perfect Christmas experience, we can accidentally bury the very story that makes Christmas worth celebrating in the first place.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here we were in a place dedicated to Christmas, surrounded by more Christmas displays than most people see in a lifetime, and I was having a moment of clarity about keeping things simple.
But that’s exactly what the Holy Spirit does, isn’t it? He meets us right where we are, even in the middle of our abundance and our distractions, and gently redirects our hearts toward what really matters.
The One Story That Changes Everything
That’s when we found ourselves back in the nativity section, and everything came into focus.
Among all those thousand nativity scenes from around the world, the story was always the same. A young woman named Mary, heavy with child. A man named Joseph, protecting his family. No room in the inn. A stable. A manger. Angels announcing good news to shepherds. Wise men following a star.
The details might change from culture to culture – different materials, different artistic styles, different interpretations of what that holy night might have looked like. But the heart of the story never wavered. God became flesh. Heaven touched earth. The Word became a baby.
Standing there, I felt the weight of that truth settle over me like a warm blanket on that cold December day. This simple story – this one night in Bethlehem over two thousand years ago – this was what gave meaning to every other Christmas tradition we’d just walked through.
Without Jesus, Christmas is just winter decorating. Without the manger, all those beautiful displays are just nostalgic artifacts. Without the birth of our Savior, even the most elaborate Christmas celebration is just a really expensive party.
But with Christ at the center? Everything else becomes a celebration of His coming. The lights remind us that He is the Light of the World. The gifts echo the ultimate Gift God gave us in His Son. The family gatherings reflect how Jesus came to bring us into God’s family. Even Santa’s generosity points to the generous heart of our heavenly Father.
I thought about the nativity scene we set up in our own home every year. Nothing fancy – just a simple wooden stable with ceramic figures that have seen better days. Mary’s robe has a chip in it, and one of the sheep is missing an ear. But that humble little scene tells the most important story ever told.
The God of the universe chose to enter our world not as a conquering king or a powerful ruler, but as a helpless baby born to ordinary people in the most humble circumstances imaginable. He could have chosen any way to reveal Himself to humanity, but He chose vulnerability. He chose love. He chose us.
That’s the story that changes everything. That’s the story that transforms a cold winter night into holy ground. That’s the story that makes every Christmas tradition meaningful instead of just sentimental.
If you ever find yourself in Pennsylvania, I really do encourage you to visit the National Christmas Center. It’s worth the trip, and you’ll leave with your heart full of wonder at the creativity and devotion that went into every display.
But here’s my gentle challenge for all of us this Christmas season: let’s make sure we don’t lose Jesus in our celebrations. All the beautiful extras – the traditions, the decorations, the special foods, the gift-giving – they’re all gifts from God to help us celebrate. But Jesus is the Gift that makes it all worthwhile.
May your Christmas be filled with His presence, His peace, and His perfect love.