Anticipation

"Is he here yet, Dad?"

The anticipation was palpable. My youngest was waiting for her best friend to arrive at church. While she gleefully skipped around the room in hopefulness, she had me stationed as a watchman, scanning the horizon of the hallway for any signs of him. That particular day he was late. When he did make his entrance, I heralded his arrival to a joyous little girl, who now gleefully skipped in delight. She didn't know he was late. She cannot read the clock on the wall or the signs of the times, she just knew her friend had arrived. The contrast of our perspective struck me.

Do you ever feel like Jesus is late? We are here in this mortal coil looking around and looking for signs. From our point of view He should be here already, shouldn't He? The image I sometimes envision is me sitting at the station, impatiently tapping my foot, looking at my watch, and wondering, "Seriously, Jesus, any later and you are going to miss the train!" I wonder if His response would commandeer Gandalf from the movie The Lord of the Rings "(The King) is never late. Nor is He early; He arrives precisely when He means too."

As we have entered into the Advent season, I am having trouble waiting for Him. This year the anthem of the season for me is the hymn O Come O Come Emmanuel, but sometimes I am struggling to get to the chorus and remember to rejoice. The toils of the world and of life over the last three years have finally caught up with me. I find myself echoing the Psalms "How long, O Lord!"

And then my mind harkens back to the first Christmas. The people of ancient Israel were in a very similar situation. They had been waiting for Messiah for centuries. Some assumed He was never coming. Some were tapping their feet, watching the sun, and thinking "Seriously Adoni, you are going to miss the victory parade!" Then we get glimpses of people like Simeon and Anna, who may have been weary but they were hopeful; they were joyfully awaiting the arrival of their King.

As I look at the world around me, I am reminded that my vision is not clear enough nor is my perception sharp enough to understand the significance of the moment I find myself in. The night may sometimes seem long, but my King has promised He is coming. He has also commanded me to keep watch, and how I watch matters. I can choose to be stressed, somber, and sullen. Conversely, I can choose, through the weariness, to be like a child, eagerly awaiting the arrival of my Friend. May I remember this Christmas, and in the days ahead, that He is never late. Nor is He early; He arrives precisely when He means too!