I don’t know about you, but it seems to me I spend a lot of time waiting.
Waiting . . .
For good news—or for bad
or test results
For the chance to hug family and friends
For the time when we can be in person with the entire seminary community
For snow to finally arrive
For the pandemic to end
For God’s justice
For hope in times of despair
Waiting can sometimes feel passive and helpless as we dwell in these in-between times, when we’re anticipating a future that feels so remote.
Most of our days aren’t particularly big, or important. They’re just days filled with routine things: working, emails, writing, Zooming, reading, cooking, eating, sleeping, Zooming, driving, cleaning, talking, laughing, crying, Zooming, scrolling, walking, watching, did I mention Zooming?
It’s tempting to think that life itself happens in the big moments, not the routine, in-between ones. We tell ourselves that what matters most is the feast, not the preparation; the wedding, not the marriage; Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, not Holy Week; Christmas morning, not Advent.
But these routine, in-between times of waiting are as much a part of our living as the big, spectacular moments. Perhaps moreso. The promise of Advent, as we wait for Christ to come in flesh among us, is that these mundane moments are anything but passive, they are overflowing with God’s presence and love.
The prophet Isaiah reminds us that “Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” (40:31)
So this Advent we wait. We watch. We pray. We do our Advent together, not alone.
God is with us, and we are with each other—waiting, living, and loving, in the hope of Christ.
May this Advent season renew your strength “for the living of these days.”
Robin J. Steinke, President