Advent's Challenge of Waiting
As my daughter anxiously awaits the birth of her second child now technically overdue, I’ve observed our tactics during this time of anticipation when we (and especially she) have little control. Every day is an exercise in centering and trusting. The fact that this period of waiting is smack in the middle of the Advent season is not lost on me. Within the Christian tradition, the season of Advent signifies a time of anticipation. Spiritually speaking, the challenge to find comfort in the act of waiting are ultimately healed by hope personified; the birth of Christ. However, the transfer of historical assurances of hope into an anxious heart can be tough when surrounded by stress and anxiety.
I don’t mean to squelch the flow of Advent’s rhythm, but real life waiting is hard and seldom soothed by wrapped gifts and various versions of “The Christmas Song.” Underneath waiting is often worry, and worry is defined by the unknown. The mind can become consumed by “what ifs” and impatience. Worst case scenarios tend to bully rational thought. Some might argue that a healing centeredness for adversity comes from resiliency in spiritual faith, but even that might seem elusive for others.
I think about the interludes of waiting that stretch our capacity to remain centered and calm. I’m quite certain all of us can recount a time when waiting overtakes us. The space between cancer treatments, for example, is filled with yearning for successful therapy. Grieving a lost loved one, every day, poses a different challenge to navigate loneliness and the longing to hear that voice just one more time. Waiting for a military homecoming, waiting for a positive pregnancy test, or waiting for the answer to prayer can be grueling.
Probably there are many of you who join me in wishing such struggling times were more in our control. It’s easy to become tunnel visioned within our angst. Although I have no good justification as to why life can be so difficult for some, I do think Advent calls us to expand our view. Looking up is a good way to begin. Awareness that we move beneath the wonder of stars gives reassurance that we are not alone. This past year’s celestial gifts remind us that raising our gaze is a good exercise, especially as darkness descends. Star light embodies hope. Think about it; one of Earth’s closest star neighbor is Sirius, and it takes 4 years for Sirius’ shine to reach us. 4 years! And the light of more far-away stars pierce the abyss of darkness for 7,000 years so that we can be inspired by their surety. Talk about being worth the wait…
In a perfect world, waiting and navigating the unknown are encapsulated in a timely bubble just like the season of Advent. Here, anticipation is met with a glorious resolution embodied by the hope of a child. For my daughter, there is comfort in knowing she will have her baby soon. Chances are by the time this article reaches publication, we will have already christened this little one with a thousand kisses. But for so many others immersed in the trenches of a wide array of struggles, answers are not so forthcoming.
It's hard to center yourself when immersed in worry. The stars provide an accessible
example of resilience and resolve as they pierce light into the abyss of the unknown.
As we all continue to deep breath our way through our very personal Advent seasons of waiting, I wish the illumination of faraway stars to find your expecting hearts. My wish is that we can receive encouragement to keep moving beneath their pathways of hope.