The hope of the Advent season is our longing for God-with-us to be fulfilled. We wait—in the dark, yes, but also with deep anticipation of what is to come. This presence is with-us now, in Mary’s womb, waiting for his moment of first breath—his entry into air and light. We attend to his presence now, like a mother pregnant, with life growing in the darkness of womb—unseen, but fully expected. We sing “Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus” and “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”. We long for the Light, we know it’s coming, and yet, we wait. How do you typically feel about waiting? When you find yourself in traffic, or in a long line somewhere, or at school pickup, or—particularly—when your wait is unexpected… how does your soul respond? Do you find frustration, even anger? Do you immediately distract yourself from the waiting, pulling out a phone or your to-do list—trying to make that time productive somehow? What would it be like to *just* wait, the next time a moment like this arises in your day? To stay present to the situation, the destination, the thing you are waiting for? How might this look in relation to our Advent waiting? Letting God take God’s time to be-with-us in the ways we are longing for? Leaning into the silence, the darkness; refusing to distract ourselves with something more immediately gratifying… Letting our desire surface, being present to these deep longings still waiting on fulfillment… What is it like to think of it as an expectancy, as if you are the one pregnant with the presence of God, waiting for its emergence into the light? Knowing it will happen, but not-just-yet? Lean into the waiting this week. When you find yourself tempted to move past the longing and into distraction (or perhaps your temptation is to give up on it completely), stay with it. Attend to what it feels like to wait, to hope, to anticipate - especially when it's for longer than you had expected. How does God meet you, even in the waiting?

Posted by Jamie Bonilla at 2021-11-30 15:37:39 UTC