Wait With Us

This morning, like every morning this month, my kids fly downstairs as soon as they wake up. "Is it Christmas yet?" And they consult their Advent calendars. The little door flaps open, offering a chocolate to count their waiting. One day closer. One day closer.

Today we were driving through Ottawa and went past a church with a message board on its outside wall.

"Wait with us through the Advent season," it read.

Waiting isn't a terribly popular activity.
We want to get to the thing. We like doing, we like achieving, we like a clear and tidy ending.

When Jesus was born, Mary and Joseph took him to the temple on the 8th day.

There they met Simeon and Anna, two righteous and devout worshipers who were waiting for the Messiah.  They had been waiting their whole lives - and they were what Sam would call "very elderly."

They waited.
And waited.
And waited.

And when the fullness of time had come, on this particular day, they finally received their Christ.

All of that waiting, wondering "is this the day? Is this the day? Maybe this will be the day?"

And Jesus came.
Precious baby, Holy Messiah, light for all the world.

They had been waiting for him like my kids count down til Christmas. Their hearts were looking for him, their hopes were pinned on seeing him.

And every year I count through my own Advent, waiting for him. Looking for him.  "You will find me," he said, "when you seek me with all your heart."

And in the slowing of myself to wait for Advent to move through the calendar, I find stillness.  I find space. I find depth. And I find hope in waiting for the truest Christmas - when I, like Anna and Simeon, will see the Lord's Christ.

Merry Christmas friends.
Xo.