Some months ago, my pregnant friend asked me to come and be with her during labour and delivery. Time went by and then November arrived and I realised we were in the month! In the two weeks leading up to the due date, I might have looked like I was going through the normal rhythms of daily life, and I was, but I was waiting for it. Waiting for the signal to spring into action.
Ready to shift gear, poised to alter direction, charged with permission to hand over all other responsibilities in order to get to where I needed to be.
The due date came and went. With it, a sense of confidence and control too. When will the baby come? There are very few things humans don’t control these days, natural deliveries of babies being one of them. We speculate and read the clues and talk about the dates and even try to line up the stars for ourselves, and in the end, only God knows.
Waiting is golden. We forget it and so sometimes being forced to wait is the only way to get our attention on the matter. When we are not instantly gratified, we are reminded that we are not entitled to anything. We are brought back to the truth of who we are and who God is. We are ushered into a charming space where the discomfort of being out-of-control turns into a hallowed chamber of intense prayers, longings and, finally, surrendered stillness.
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. (Isaiah 40 v 31)
There is a gift in the waiting, especially when we face the right direction whilst we do it – our faces to the Son. We are limited, faulty, unprepared and ignorant, but He is limitless, perfect, ready and all-knowing. Instead of growing tired, the ‘delay’ energizes us when we wait on Him.
Not long after midnight, when at least another ten days had gone by, the call rang out loud and clear in the frog-croaking, cricket-chirruping darkness. From the depths of sleep to sparkling alertness, I stood to attention involuntarily! The baby! The one we’ve longed for! Go, go, go woman!
It seems true to me that when something has not come to us when we want it to, we are changed. Either we can get disappointed, bitter or cynical – giving up or insisting we get what we want no matter the cost; not usually a pretty scenario and one which leaves us strangely empty. Or, we learn that the wait is not punishment or silence from God, but a merciful season where dreams simmer, circumstances rearrange and anticipation reaches an all time high. When all that is longed for, finally, arrives, words cannot describe the sweetness.
Before it arrives we may think we have missed the boat, but when it arrives it couldn’t be more on time.
After all the wondering, the longed-for event occurred in all its raw beauty. Right on the brink of Advent when we wait and wonder and anticipate the coming of Jesus, a tiny baby came into the world. Not a moment too soon, not a moment too late. Worth every bit of the wait; all the more exquisite because of it.
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