We can wait empty, or we can wait full.
It all depends on what we do with the time.
Those who wait empty get irritated or dissipated.
Those who wait full get richer as time goes by.
Those who wait empty wait aimlessly.
Those who wait full do something that
changes them by the time they get what they are waiting for.
–Unknown
Consider
“Indeed, this is our God; we looked to him, and he saved us! This is the Lord to whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!”(Isaiah 25:9) Waiting equates with hoping; it’s waiting complete with gladness and joy at the thought that one day, the Lord will come through on his promise of salvation. Salvation is a noun that can function as a verb—it’s the unfolding and fulfilling of God’s purpose.
“Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us…” – Luke 2:15
Advent is defined as the season of quiet waiting, expectation, and hope fulfilled in the Incarnation of Christ. But here’s the thing: the culture no longer defines Advent that way. For that matter, most would not even recognize the noun Advent! In our world, these four weeks of the calendar year can be the most stress-filled weeks for many of us. It is a time of increased expectation, and if we are not careful to retain our way, we will scramble to fill the days according to the merchandising god that defines fulfillment of expectation with tangible goods.
It can be supremely difficult to silence the voices around us, step back from the noise, take a deep breath, and allow the LORD to reveal himself to us, can’t it? If we are honest, we admit to some irritation and dissipation because THERE IS SO MUCH TO DO to keep up with what we have been conditioned to think what a perfect Christmas looks like, so much so that we can become frantic to make every moment perfect for our loved ones.
A young mom-friend of mine wrote “A Parent’s Advent Prayer” that you may resonate with as you endeavor to wait full of joyful anticipation with your family. I pray that as you lead your pilgrim band, Christ will be more than enough to fill your home with true hope and joy!
Dear God,
I now stop what I’m doing,
what I’m thinking,
what I’m scrambling to plan
and hustling to finish
so that I can
be here.
Be here in the safety and warmth of your love.
This love that holds me fast and keeps me centered.
What I want to be a season of joy for my children
so quickly becomes a season of
increased expectations for me –
not because they expect things,
but because I do.
It’s the pressure I put on myself to
make things perfect,
and memorable,
and happy,
and special.
But you came to me amidst darkness and stars –
reminding me how darkness and light
are most beautiful together.
And in that holy, mysterious and messy night,
you re-defined perfection,
promising me that leaning into the mystery
and laying down in loving awe
compose the most faithful response.
You tell me the best gift I can give
my children this Christmas is
to look with love into their eyes.
To pause throughout the day
to pray over them.
To envelop them with arms
of fierce grace when I feel
most angry or annoyed.
To sit in wonder for a moment (or many)
and marvel at all that shaped
our family this year.
To give thanks
and allow tears to fall
and dreams to rise.
To take my pilgrim band
by their hands and walk together,
deep into the heart of Bethlehem
shining bright within our souls.
This will be more than enough,
because you’ve made a manger
in which my heart will rest and find
your heartbeat becoming mine.
Amen.
(Matthew 2:10-11 * Matthew 6:31 * Luke 2:15-20)
The Maiden Warrior 