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I was four months old, and as an adult, I still can’t believe my mother did this to me.

When my brother and I found Mom’s family album as we packed up her house to move her to assisted living, we sat, thumbing through old family photos. That’s when we came upon it. The picture of Mom, a man in our church, and me, all dressed up as the living Christmas nativity. After all, I was only four months old and perfect for the part of the baby Jesus. But as I looked at the photo, I felt the harsh self-inflicted pressure I lived with. I couldn’t live up to HIM—I’d never fill those sandals. Why didn’t Mom just use Baby John, the life-sized doll that was a gift to me when I was born? He wouldn’t poop his diaper during service. Didn’t she know this would haunt me? I closed the photo album and glanced at my brother. “I’ve judged myself by this photo all my life,” I quietly whispered.

There! I’d said it out loud after all these years. I’d set a standard for myself I’d never live up to. Ever.

Even as a child, I understood what the birth of this baby meant. This was a perfect child, and I was so imperfect. I could never measure up.

When God sent His Son to endure humanity, He knew Jesus would set a new standard (Isaiah 9:6). Some would grasp it. Others would reject, but His goal never changed. He didn’t send Jesus, the picture of perfection, to intimidate us but to show us how much He loved us. God sent Him as the payment for our sins, as proof of His faithfulness. We … us … I … could never live up to that.

But …

We aren’t supposed to. Our commission is to follow Him. Believe and make disciples. Spread the Word. Then wait for His second coming, not to compare ourselves.

When you see the nativity, don’t compare yourself to the impossible. Instead, open your heart to the inevitable—Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Let God fill you to overflowing this Christmas season. Accept Him. The baby in the manger waits for you.