I'm on a deadline tonight. I have my outlines for a Sunday School curriculum I am working on due and have been balancing baby time and the deadline all weekend. Things were going fine and I was thinking deeply about the Christmas story for the next section as I took a break from working to help Mr. Goat get baby goat's last bottle ready and get to bed.
Baby goat had other plans before it was time for bed.
Quite literally he sh*t on my plans. (Up to his armpits!?!)
Suddenly the night called for a bath (it was an off night), some laundry and a tag team effort to clean up the baby. It was awful, disgusting, and hilarious at the same time. And best of all, baby goat was just being what he is...a baby. He needs us to care for him and sometimes that requires a detour from my well laid plans.
It is ironic to me that I was busy thinking about the Christmas story. In Seminary I had a professor who emphasized that God was born, literally, into the shit and stink of humanity in the stable. If you've ever worked on a farm, you can understand that to be true. Jesus was also born fully human, with all of the needs and normal functions that every baby, baby goat included, has.
It brought a whole new level to the Christmas story today. Baby Jesus grew up in the same vulnerable, messy and needy positions that baby goat was in tonight. It brings a whole new level to Mary and Joseph who served the roles of caregivers to him. Baby goat brings a sense of reality to the nativity for me that the angelic hosts and smiling Mary statues fail to bring.
Christmas is coming, the ads have already begun, but I am just beginning to realize how being mom to baby goat has changed the story for me. It may seem sacrireligious that a blowout led me down this new consideration of Christmas, but honestly, you had to be there. There aren't swaddling clothes enough for the humanity of my baby tonight, and I'm certain he's not the first.