This past month, we celebrated the tenth anniversary of our world becoming a brighter and more livable place with the arrival of our baby Benjamin Ingram. How time flies! I took some extra time this year to remember and reflect on that season of intense preparation in our family. As we eagerly awaited the birth of baby Benjamin, we hurried and scurried about setting the stage for a newborn’s arrival. We had to be ready for more diaper changes, have the right food, clothing, and sleeping spaces, and — not least — prepare his brothers for what was coming. It can be exhausting to prepare when we see it only as an endless to-do list.
But then the baby arrives, and the reality is different. We haven’t really arrived at anything. We just construct a new to-do list. It’s like running a marathon and arriving breathless at the finish line, crossing the tape, only to hear the starter pistol fire again. Hooray, the baby is here — now it’s time to get to work. Work? What’s been happening for the last nine months?
More than once, my rational side has asked me: why all the fuss in getting ready for a baby? After all, according to the Population Reference Bureau, 4.5 children are born in the world every second. If my prenatal worry and waiting is any indication of “normal,” and we multiply that by 180 million this year alone, then the world must agonize in perpetual anticipation of what is yet to come. The apostle Paul said it quite well: “We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.” (Romans 8:22) It is tough to wait for everything to change. Even when you can see the change coming, I’m not sure we are ever completely ready for how it might actually alter daily living.
Think of the anxiety that comes with even routine changes: new spaces, new work, new homes, new friends, new teachers, new needs. Even the most common, universal life experiences can look profoundly different because we are constantly developing from what we were to what we are becoming. Our lives, personalities, and perspectives are always under construction, and this shapes how we see even the most familiar routines. Think about your own life, the good and the bad, and ponder how you face those experiences differently than anyone else you know. Each of your pains and joys is unique because you are unique, and you face them in the way only you can.
This is why I am grateful for the rhythmic liturgical life of the church. Every year, the church places the same markers in our way that gently orient us to faithful living in life’s ever-changing surroundings. The season of Advent is a time that warms the hearts of many, with special rituals reserved for “the most wonderful time of the year.” We hope that at least Advent, with its old familiar stories and cheery carols, won’t change. However comforting the rituals and symbols of the season may be, remember two important things.
First, you have changed since you last turned the corner to Christmas. You have suffered joys and losses that have been at work in you, changing you. The Good News that met you last year may find a new place to land if you look and listen for it.
Second, God is continuing to work new creation in our world and our lives. Even as you may need to be refreshed in faith, God is persistently working in the world — like a potter at the wheel — to bring this about.
So may it be as we walk, and work, through this holy season together. May all our unique lives be bound up in unity, preparing for that new thing which God promises when we let Jesus in. Let us join the company of those before us who “wait in eager anticipation” for God to be revealed (Romans 8:20), and let us prepare to respond when we remember: “Unto us is born this day…a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11)
Grace and Peace,