Hello from the far side of the globe! Don’t worry, I haven’t died, it’s just been a very crazy month. It’s now almost Thanksgiving in America, and soon Christmas arrives, which begins my absolute favorite time of the year. In fact…I’ve already decorated and bought most of my presents. ONLY because Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated in Thailand, of course. 😉 As of now, I have less than one month until I will return to the States for Christmas.
The whole Christmas/Advent/holiday time is an interesting one. There is so much intense anticipation and longing built around one day, that it almost transcends Christmas Day itself. It’s easy to get wrapped up in presents and plan and stress, and we shouldn’t let materialism take over, but the getting and receiving of gifts can help turn our focus to The Gift. The reason for Christmas.
I, with no shame, love gifts. I love getting them. I love giving them. I love the joy that comes with picking something out that you know will suit a person, or that they will love. I love the thrill of receiving something that shows how much you are known and loved by someone.
But presents mean waiting. Christmas means waiting. Advent is all about waiting.
And waiting is not my favorite.
Patience is not my strong suit. Most people could figure that out. My closest friends and family could write a doctoral thesis on it.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t learned a thing or two about why it can be good to wait.
The past three Christmases, I’ve read an Advent devotional compiled from the writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Bonhoeffer was a German pastor during World War 2 that was executed for opposing the Nazis. His writing contains a lot of themes appropriate for Christmas: God’s strength working through weak things, inner faith being more important than an outward show of religion, and the importance of waiting. He writes:
“Celebrating Advent means being able to wait. Waiting is an act our impatient age has forgotten. It wants to break open the ripe fruit when its has hardly finished planting the shoot. But all too often, the greedy eyes are only deceived; the fruit that seemed so precious is still green on the inside, and disrespectful hands ungratefully toss aside what has so disappointed them. Whoever does not know the austere blessedness of waiting—that is, of hopefully doing without—will never experience the full blessedness of fulfillment.”
The other week, after a long and trying day at school, I sat down and wrote in a fit of frustration that I, “keep waiting for the part where it gets better. I keep trying and praying and hoping and I just come up empty. I want the end where everything makes sense.”
This year has been a season of hardship and transition for myself and my family. It’s been a lot of learning to wait and trust and work in the waiting. It’s been hard.
I still don’t have “the end where everything makes sense”. I don’t know when or if I will. But Advent and Christmas remind me that even when nothing made sense and there was no hope, God came to dwell with us.
Emmanuel. God with us. God who does not run away from our filth, God who is not sullied by our impurity. God who is not far away. God who comes to us.
Airports and airplanes have become even more important and regular in my life than ever before. It occurred to me the other day that airplane journeys are a lot like life.
You are in one place and can do a thousand and one things while you are waiting. You can even get pretty good at distracting yourself from the fact that you are thousands of feet in the air, in a pressurized metal container. You eat, sleep, watch movies, play games…anything to keep busy. But all the while, your mind is thinking about your destination. You know that where you are is not permanent.
When you get off a plane, many things happen. First, the plane must STOP MOVING. Then, you get off, and wind your way through to immigration. More waiting. If you are going home, then you usually get a line that is less long than the one for “foreigners”. When I go to Thailand, I have to go in the foreigner line, and it is hellish. Then, after being deemed not a threat, you go through immigration, to the Baggage Carousel of Torture. Is that my bag? No, no. Oooh, what about…no, not that one. It feels like hours when it has been only two minutes.
You finally find your bags and go through a final area to where people are waiting. Your heart is pounding. You scan the crowd. And suddenly, you see them. Friends, family, whoever has come to get you. You can feel your body unclench and your soul relax. You are safe. You are known. You are not alone.
You are home. And you can rest.
GK Chesterton wrote a poem called “The House of Christmas” that says, “in the place where God was homeless, all men are at home.” Christmas is a time where we remember that the waiting is worth it. God comes to the ones who wait for Him. He will not leave us stranded.
So as I bake cookies and pretend the temperature will go below 90 degrees, counting the days till Christmas Break, I will remember that waiting is a good thing. A holy thing. A thing that does not disappoint.
“Even youths grow weary and tired,
And vigorous young men stumble badly,
But those who wait for the Lord [who expect, look for, and hope in Him]
Will gain new strength and renew their power;
They will lift up their wings [and rise up close to God] like eagles [rising toward the sun];
They will run and not become weary,
They will walk and not grow tired.”—Isaiah 40:31
Teach; Think; Write. 