As we reflect on and remember his first coming, we call out for his second, longing for the consummation where all things are made new, knowing that he will come at the fullness of time.
I usually cherish the season of advent. But this year, the waiting feels like agony.
In the Christian tradition, advent is the season where believers reflect and remember the first coming of Christ, even as we long for his second coming. We light candles, open calendars, and read devotionals that prepare our hearts and minds for the gift of God’s presence among us. As I’ve lit my own candles and watched the days pass by, I’ve begun to realize that how I wait is just as important as what I wait for.
2020 itself has groaned for the reconciliation of the Lord’s presence. All of creation longs for the day where things are made new and bright and free from the corruption of sin and suffering. On a personal level, this advent has been sweeter but also significantly more difficult than any of my other years following the Lord.
I got engaged this year, and even though I know the day and even the very hour when we will be married, the waiting often feels unbearable. Although my immediate desire is to be united with my husband, my engagement has increased my ultimate desire to be united with the Lord —I long not just to be unveiled before my earthly groom, but my heavenly one too. My anticipation for life shared with my beloved has heightened my longings for communion with the One who calls me beloved. Oh, how I long for what is mortal in me to be swallowed up by life!
All is not as it should be—not yet.
As the world turns and days come and go, it is easy to become discouraged and disillusioned. Whichever consummation you’re waiting for, whether the marriage of mortals or the marriage supper of the lamb, the dust eventually settles and the snow melts and we stare into a long cold winter ahead.