The season of holy waiting begins. I have had a new appreciation for advent in recent years, feeling a bit closer to the spirit of longing. Last advent, the image of a pregnant Mary made me cry. I related to her fear of truly not knowing what God was asking of her. I saw a vulnerable woman who was asked to trust—asked to hope—asked to stay physically strong as she propped herself on that donkey and rode away. She must have wrestled with how something so beautiful could burst forth from such complication, loneliness and confusion.
Earlier this week I was struck by an encounter with a strangely large decorative statue (like the ones our mothers would have made in their ceramic classes in the early 80’s). The statue was of three kings huddled around a happy baby Jesus, nestled in straw. It sat on the check-out counter at TJ Maxx—someone obviously had thought to buy it, then changed his mind. No wonder—the thing was more gaud than glory. As I stood in line, I couldn’t take my eye off of this terrible representation of the Christ child and the wise men who were so committed to finding him. Surely they didn’t look so stylish by the time they got to him? Surely they weren’t able to maintain that level of joy on their entire journey—or were they? This year those garish, happy kings will serve as a symbol for my own advent. They were asked to believe in a child that was born a continent away. They had nothing tangible to guide them, only the clarity of the night sky and a small star in the distance. And most importantly, they maintained their joy, knowing the miracle that awaited them at the end of their journey.
Dear friends gifted Donovan and me a glass star last year during advent as a symbol of hope for our someday coming children—that star continues to hang amongst my earrings on my dresser (really, did you expect me to hang it anywhere else??). It offers me new hope this year. God has given Donovan and me a star on which to focus. A Jesus in which to believe. A journey for which to be thankful. A treasure at the end of the longing. Amen.
