December 19, 2005
Infant Holy, Infant Lowly
my tiny hand painted nativity. I cant tell you how many times I have kissed this baby Jesus or his holy parents in the 15 years I have owned this collection.
I am sitting in the lap of luxury, at least to me and a large portion of this world's population...In a leather chair, before a lively fire burning in the hearth in a lovely home that I own, blogging to the sound of snowfall. I look across the room at the tiny crech on the see through between the kitchen. There to keep it from courious kitty paws, and to give it the pre emenence that it deserves.
It is my first Christmas here, and its been a wonder of weather and visiting new friends and spiritual renewl that we so needed. It was with hope and expectation that I pulled down the boxes from the high shelf in the garage and decked my halls with tree and lights. We only did this one time in the four Christmas's, the second year we were there. Our first year we were laying the wall to wall tile so all of our holiday things stayed packed. The second year I did put a few things out but it was a scary thing with young and playfilled kitties. As I decorated the house I realized that I had not found the box with the nativity or my hand painted ornaments from Germany and another liftime ago and went into a full on panic that resulted in two hours of tearing into then tossing aside cartons till I fell into a sobbing heap before the sought after carton where I took Baby Jesus out and kissed him and thanked God that he wasnt lost or left behind in California, and that we were still together even in the pain filled chaos that had become the reality of my Hawaiian Dream.
That fear filled afternoon was not unlike the first time I used these treasures to celebrate my Christmas. My first husband and I had been given a beautiful hand painted German Crech as a wedding gift. As I packed up the fragments of that failed marraige, I also packed up all of the "family "things that I felt were his and saw to it that he got them, including this beloved treasure...But I saw this lovely set and so painfully I saved the money to buy each figurene, one at a time... Amid the turmoil of my life turned upside, the serene beauty of the crech reminded me that I wasnt alone, and that God was bringing new things places and people into my life.
Again in 1995, newly married and discouraged beyond imagining, I drew strength and hope from the Christmas Story. I returned from my honeymood so ill that all I could do for Christmas was to unwrap the tiny figures and set them out, a sure and familiar act as everything I loved, every dream, and every hope was being systematically shattered and shaken. Within eight weeks I was to see my marriage fail (in many ways it never got started even to this day Woody and I have problems that would have ended most relationships) My ministry end in a church split, my much worked for carreer end, and my health deteriorate to the place where, that April, I was given 6 months to live.
I clung to the same God that got a young virgin, her new husband and her miricle Infant clung to to get them through. How their lives were turned upside down, all hopes and dreams changed, by the comming of the Infant Jesus. Think of their loss...Friends, family, reputation... their lives put on hold by the trip to Bethlehem, the flight into Egypt... Eventually like the Holy Family, my life fell back into a familiar place, as it always will if we allow God enough time to work things out in HIs Time...
This year, in this place that God has brought me to...at the end of a long journey, I held the tiny, fragile infant, in His manger bed, and thought about His journey from Godhead to infant...From the throne of heaven to Our Lady's womb, and how incredible it is that we can share the journey with Him...
Infant holy, Infant lowly,
for His bed a cattle stall;
Oxen lowing, little knowing,
Christ the Babe is Lord of all.
Swift are winging angels singing,
noels ringing, tidings bringing:
Christ the Babe is Lord of all.
Flocks were sleeping,
shepherds keeping
vigil till the morning new
Saw the glory, heard the story,
tidings of a Gospel true.
Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow,
praises voicing, greet the morrow:
Christ the Babe was born for you.Christ the Babe was born for You
Traditional carol by Spiewniczek Piesni Koscielne, 1908; translated from Polish to English by Edith M. Reed, 1921
