"Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart."
Charles Wesley
This morning I woke up earlier than I wanted, after closing my eyes well past midnight. The beauty and curse of technology at my fingertips afforded me a quick good morning text to my son, mostly to assuage my fear that he might not be up for his early morning flight. There was no going back to sleep as I waited for his response, imagining with each passing moment that he was still asleep. Do I call? Do I wait? He's a grown up, and my job is no longer to keep tabs or dictate his comings and goings or choices.
I waited expectantly for the return text.
It was ten minutes later, which isn't very long, but in our world of instant messaging it felt interminably long.
"Hey Mom, I don't have my boarding pass on my phone, can you help me out?"
Relief. He's awake and in need of his boarding pass, a good indicator that he's near the airport.
I am waiting with great expectation for his arrival and the hug that I haven't had from him in too many months.
I miss him.
There are plans for today, laid weeks ago, when we started talking about how this holiday season would be different with the little girls (who I know need another descriptor because Libby is now as tall as her sisters and will soon pass them and its ridiculous to refer to her as "little"). We decided back in November than we would wait to decorate our big family Christmas tree until everyone was home. The box of ornaments has sat in the hall closet in expectation of Steven's arrival this morning.
Yesterday my idea about chocolate croissants from Trader Joe's for Christmas morning was received with disappointment from Katy and Allison, "Seriously, Mom, we were expecting your cinnamon rolls..no one else makes them."
Expectation can be tied to love, family, traditions, homecomings and goodness.
I lived for a lot of years with very little expectation. In fact, I prided myself on it. If I expected nothing, or very little, I was rarely ever disappointed. If good things came that was a bonus. In other words I lived with a deadness inside that protected me from feeling the ache of hope and love and required very little to no faith.
At this point many of you may feel like you want to roll around the difference in your heads between expectation and expectancy. But, this morning I don't want to flesh out that difference, it feels like too much word smithing for today.
Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus.
Are you expecting Him today?
Do you dare?
Can you watch expecting for Him to show up in your hopes and desires for the next few days, for the next month or year? Or in your exhaustion and weariness? In the disappointed places inside of you that have no more room left?
I know in my commitment to not be disappointed with life or people I also killed off any sense of expecting for Jesus to show up with anything other than judgement and disappointment for me. A tragic loss for too many years of my walk with Him.
Admitting that I needed more, hoped for more, ached for more opened up the place of tenuous expectancy. That place continues to this day. Sometimes my expectancy feels more hopeful and confident, and sometimes it feels teetering and tired and on the edge of tears.
I've found that for me it's helpful to remember where God has surprised me, where Jesus has shown up in the past. Remembering helps me hope and watch, believing that He will come again.
I hope that you will join me and remember what God has done and allow your heart to hold expectancy for what He will do as Christmas continues to unfold for us all this year.