Infant Holy, Infant Lowly

December 7, 2023
Devotional by: Becky Thompson

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!
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 the 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.

I’m spending Thanksgiving at the renovated 1950s brick story and a half that sheltered and housed my husband, Joe’s, family through seasons of feast and famine. My grandchildren, children, and husband are all here with me.

We gathered early this Thanksgiving to celebrate the life of Joe’s sister, Billie, who restored the 1930s family home next door and enjoyed life there like her ancestors, modified with indoor plumbing.

Unlike a lot of others, this family is still centered around their inherited land, a mostly, working farm. The air is thick with memories, both joyful and wistful. Stories and images of Billie’s 1967 Volkswagen Bug remind us of Billie’s youth and work.

I walk to the barn where the hay is stacked to the ceiling. The cattle munch in the field. Their menu of pasture grass hasn’t been supplemented yet this year. Even though the nights are cool in North Carolina tonight, I can picture making a little nest like the chickens do and curling up for the evening. Sleeping under the stars, smelling the sweet hay might offer a good night’s rest.

Walking to the barn always stirs the memories of that first Christmas. My instincts are telling me that in this ancient story, God’s nurturing Spirit still whispers to us, “I am with you. Never forget”.