“Were you born in a barn?” We’ve all heard that phrase and have possibly even said it. And no, I wasn’t born in a barn, but I grew up in one!
We had the classic red and white barn growing up. It had the Xs on the doors. The red barn had a ladder built on the front that would take you to the hayloft. The loft had holes in the floor where you could drop hay down to feed the horses. It was a favorite place for us, as kids, to play. It smelled so good. It was warm in the cold and dry and cozy in the rain. We made forts and tunnel passageways with the hay bales. The lower level had a tack room with earthy smelling saddles. And then there were the stalls for our horses – Buddy, Lady and Nubbin. They always knew exactly which stall was theirs. Horses are so smart! They would winnie and softly neigh to hurry you up getting their extra grain. I don’t think I ever ate any of that feed, but I can remember wanting to. It smelled so good! The floor was soft dirt. My Daddy and brothers took care of keeping the manure out. For a few adventurous years, we had goats in one of the stalls. I can remember settling back into loose hay and petting and loving on my goats. It was perfect! I adored that barn!
I’ve been reading about the birth of Jesus. First off, I can’t imagine being pregnant, at term, traveling on a donkey. That must have been really, really uncomfortable for Mary. My car ride for 15 minutes with Ben was challenging! And to not only NOT have a reservation to stay, but have no idea where they would stay, probably weighed heavy on her mind! I mean, I like to have things all planned out, but Mary was traveling by faith. I’m sure that when the contractions started to get strong Mary got a little afraid. I wonder if she grabbed Joseph by his robe and said, “hurry up!” Tom always tells me with every birth I’ve had I get a wild look in my eye. I see that on occasion in other women and I wonder if Mary had it. What awful words to hear…”no room.”
I don’t know what Mary was dilated to, if her water broke, or if she felt the urge to push. But I think when the innkeeper gave them that space…a barn, a stable, a cave, a lower level that housed animals…whatever exactly that space was…I think Mary said, “we’ll take it!”
I wonder if Mary gave birth silently or with screams. I wonder if Joseph coached her and with his own hands helped deliver the Son of God. Gotta cut the cord, and make him cry, and dry him off, and keep him warm. Baby Jesus was born! 10 fingers. 10 toes. I can just see Mary, exhausted, but now so relieved, settling back into loose hay with her baby cuddled on her chest and with the animals singing a lullaby. And I wonder if she thought, “this is perfect! I adore this baby!”
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