Waiting for Advent
Advent is the waiting before birth.
I had two literal “waiting before births,” and my two daughters were both born almost two weeks late.
My first wait for birth was marked by the unknowns. I was in a foreign country. I had no family but my husband. My body had no idea what was happening or what to do. I often think about Mary (the mother of Jesus) when I think about my first waiting before the birth.
It hit a special place when I read this by Sarah Bessey, “my biggest ache was for Mary, her loneliness and isolation at the time of birth (in traditional tellings of the story). Birth is a thin place. It's always too much - too much pain, too much waiting, too much joy or sorrow, too much love, and far too messy with too little control…”
Bessy continues: “(But after studying the culture at that time, I see that) Mary was absolutely not alone at the moment of birth. She was almost certainly and absolutely attended by skilled and present women, likely even community midwives. In fact, she probably had too many helpers given the circumstances.”
“Mary wasn't alone. She was in a warm home, surrounded by women who had walked the road ahead of her, who were able to care for her. Jesus had a similar story. He came into the world, not isolated and alone and apart, but fully embedded within a family and a culture, surrounded by women. Jesus was warm, Mary was supported, and they welcomed the shepherds there to that place, as a family. The Christmas story isn't one of loneliness and quiet isolation in the darkness. This is a story of welcome and hospitality, of lamplight and family, of birth in all its incredible sacred humanness, entrenched in a culture and in a time and within a family. “
My second wait for the birth was marked by discomfort and lack of sleep. My second baby did not want me to sleep during the night hours, and my two year old didn’t want me to sleep during the day hours. I do not wish to repeat this “advent.”
As my daughters are now 2 and 4, they are loving advent as every morning we wake up and move the little Christmas tree to the next pocket in the door calendar- getting ever closer to that golden number 25. They get small little gifts each morning, and you would think it was Christmas morning already at their joy.
At this age, they are head to toe in tinsel and (Disney) Christmas magic. We sit in awe under the Christmas tree with all the feelings Christmas commercials try to muster up. In some ways, it feels like the exact opposite of waiting for the birth this advent. It feels like every day the present has come the wait is over.
But at the same time, my heart is dealing with some of the biggest blows of my life. The two closest families serving with us in Brazil have gone or are going. A divorce ripped through families and friendships. Sickness and health issues have plagued us since October. Caid and I are growing through six year marriage pains, and I still haven’t settled my heart of the cost of missions life with children.
And so, still we wait.
Our Pinterest-inspired Christmas tree for 2017, our first Christmas in Brazil (and away from family). Jessica was born December 19, and with complications, she and I barely made it home for Christmas Eve. 2019, our second Christmas in Brazil, I was stung by a scorpion at church the Sunday before Christmas, and barely able to move my arm for 5 days.
