Waiting with Wonder

“Erinn packed her Christmas clothes!” my friend announced as we unzipped suitcases in our charming mountain cottage. And yep, I did. The themed red sweatshirt and the tacky tree earrings. I couldn’t wait to fill the next month with a Hallmark-movie explosion.

Waiting With Wonder

I continually find myself explaining how much I love Christmas, but then add a loud parenthesis that I love the build-up to Christmas. The days leading up to it have me like a giddy kid.

As the days get closer to Christmas, my joy starts winding down, cowering in a way. Don’t let the actual day get too close because then it’s all over. The joy is so…fleeting. Don’t let it come.

The Meaning of Advent

But tonight as I cracked open my flimsy little Advent book, I stepped into a place where waiting fills me with wonder. Today, on the first day of Advent, I find myself staring at the definition. A season of expectant waiting. A coming.

A hopeful time of celebrating the waiting of the entrance of a savior into our world.

So I look at my decorated tree and feel the warmth along with a sting, knowing that it all comes to a crashing halt on December 26. The lights are unplugged, and the streets go back to the dull way I once found them every other month of the year. So if they’re just going to go back to the way they were, why bother at all? Don’t go getting my hopes up.

A Hope That Doesn’t End

But when I fix my mind on what Advent means, I find that the end of waiting might not be such a bad thing. At least when we’re waiting on a promise, something that will surely come to pass.  A hope that can stir inside my heart and never come crashing down. Because this gift comes with eternity. Something that has no end, and joy and peace run on forever. That’s a waiting I can celebrate—a build-up that isn’t for a fleeting 24 hours that leaves me sulking and regretting all the chocolate I’ve consumed and wondering how I’ll ever get back to a “better me” come January 1.

I muscle the two ideas together—counting down to Christmas with a sparkly red and green wardrobe, along with the beautiful patient expectation of the One who takes fleeting joy and makes it go on with no end. A God who entered my broken world and will come again. 

Right now, we soak up every moment of just one month adoring the baby in a manger. But one day, we’ll spend all of eternity filled with the peace of a perfect Christmas morning that never ends.