This is a season marked by waiting. Some wait for presents to open, some wait for family to arrive, some wait for the first big snow. . . But I wonder what it really was like to wait for Jesus to arrive. The anticipation of a new baby coupled with the expectation of a Savior. I don't think I understand that.
And yet I find my life to be full of waiting. This Christmas I am struck by what I think I am waiting for and overwhelmed with the wonder of what I should be waiting for. Christmas is usually my favorite time of year. I love the lights, the decorations, the celebration with family. I can't wait to go shopping, to do Christmas baking, to start listening to Christmas music. I remember the traditions, the joy, the feeling of Christmas. But I get swept up by it all.
This year is different. I find myself longing more, wondering more. Sometimes those thoughts are overwhelmingly hard . . . and sad. I wonder when I might have my own family. I wish for children of my own. I long to belong to someone, to have someone belong to me. I think that someday I will be all alone. And I am amazed that you can feel so lonely around so many people. Sometimes it is so very hard to have joy for someone else, even when you want the very best for them, when it feels so very much like there is no joy for you. And I find myself waiting for those things, those answers, that direction that seems like it should bring that joy.
Sometimes those thoughts are overwhelmingly grateful and amazed. I wonder how I could deserve such love and support. I wish for more moments filled with pure laughter and unadulterated joy. I long for the ability to express all the ways I feel loved and how I experience life differently because of it. I think that no one else can be as lucky as I am. I am amazed that the blessings overflow and keep on coming. And I find myself waiting with great expectation for the next moments.
I wonder in my waiting what it is I should be waiting for. If I am waiting for God to appear, have I already missed how He has?
