The season of Advent is one of waiting. Another season of waiting, something that women struggling with infertility are so familiar with.
But the waiting of Advent is such a sweet, holy waiting, and I am spending it worshiping my Savior, who has pursued me since the very beginning.
I won’t be blogging at all during the month of December, except maybe to post Bonnie’s six month post. I won’t be reading most of the other blogs that I normally follow either. Instead, I hope to spend this season of waiting simply and quietly and worshiping… Worshiping the Giver, who became the Gift, the Mystery so huge who became the Baby so small.
The season of Advent is the season to pause, to ponder, and to wait.
To wait for the Savior who has been coming for us all along. He came once when He entered into the chaotic darkness that was the world, and said, “Let there be light.”
He came again as a small babe in a dirty manger.
And He has come again and again and again, so many times since then.
He has come when I needed Him most, when I was worn out and heavy-laden.
He has come when I have doubted Him, and thought He had forgotten me.
He has come in my trials and in my joys.
He has never stopped coming.
I do not want to look back on this Christmas season and realize that I missed it: The fullness of the Love Story that is Christ, the slow unfurling of Grace.
See you next year!
He was created of a mother whom He created. He was carried by hands that He formed. He cried in the manger in wordless infancy. He, The Word, without whom all human eloquence is mute.