His waiting is marked by eager excitement (okay, yes, mostly for the presents Santa will bring). But my waiting, I’m sad to say, is usually marked by impatient toe-tapping and eye-rolling. And sometimes even by dread or detachment.
At times I feel like I’ve spent the better part of my years waiting. I grew up in a family with three women and one bathroom. As the youngest of those females, I didn’t earn the best spot in line. I live a block from a train track, and I can’t count the wasted hours I’ve spent in my trusty Honda waiting for another line of train cars to pass. I’m a 38-year-old never-married woman, and the wait to find a good man who’s a good fit for me has at times seemed unbearable. And for the past seven months I’ve been waiting to hear back from the countless companies to which I’ve sent my resume, longing for one of them to hire me.
I don’t know when I went from waiting well and eagerly, like Carson, to being the impatient and sometimes gun-shy wait-er I often am now. Perhaps all the cumulative waiting wore me out. Or our culture, where waiting is unheard of, where we value our instant gratification and have founded entire industries and food groups on that value, has permeated my thinking.
When Carson said his leg-wiggling comment the other day, I wanted to rub his head, let some of his anticipation rub off on me. Especially in this advent season. When we wait for a holy, humble baby. When we remember those generations that waited with great expectation for a Savior.
Rushing around with our Christmas shopping, party-going, and concert-attending, we often neglect this part of the Christmas celebration. We so often forget that before “For unto us a child is born,” (Isaiah 9:6) came these verses (1-5):
“Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future he will honor Galilee of the Gentiles, by the way of the sea, along the Jordan.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.
You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as men rejoice when dividing the plunder.
For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of the oppressor.
Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.”
Only then do we get the famous Christmas verses. Only with these verses in mind do we truly appreciate what comes next:
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.”
Remembering the oppression and strife and sin that came before helps us appreciate what Christ brought and changed with his miraculous birth.
I think back to my family’s wait for my leg-wiggling nephew to arrive. Years of infertility and miscarriages preceded his adoption into our family. And because we waited with my sister and brother-in-law so long for this boy, his presence is so cherished. (As is his sister’s, who was adopted a couple years after.)
I remember well waiting in the Kansas City airport with my parents to meet our new family member. When my weary sister and brother-in-law finally exited the plane with our wide-eyed Carson in tow, my dad kept snapping pictures and my mom kept saying, “He’s here! He’s finally here!” I just stood there silently crying.
The long wait made this moment all the more sweet and meaningful. And looking back, I know it formed us by giving us a huge object lesson in just how valuable a son/nephew/grandson is. A new family member! Our family member.
My waiting for a husband and for a job keeps me mindful of just how valuable these things are. Reminds me they aren’t givens. That good gifts come from God, and not from any of my own efforts. My waiting and longing for good things helps me not to take them for granted when and if they arrive.
And waiting for the Christ child helps us not take his saving presence lightly. Helps me remember why our God took on human flesh. Helps me marvel at this familiar story afresh.
The kind of marveling that brings me to my knees. And sometimes, if I'm lucky, even makes my legs wiggle.
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