Waiting Hopefully

It's an extra-special Advent season this year. Not only does the first Sunday fall right on Saint Andrew's feast day, which, if you're a calendar nerd, is pretty neat, but we are expecting a little baby of our own, coming this spring. The challenge of waiting has taken on new meaning as we count the weeks and days until the arrival of our own child.

saint andrew by julia bridget hayes

Waiting for Christmas, only a month away and difficult as it was when I was a child, is nothing compared to waiting for months to meet our baby. And waiting months to meet our baby is nothing compared to waiting for hundreds of years for the coming of the Messiah. 

The Hope candle represents the promise given to the prophets that the Messiah was indeed on His way. They waited, hopeful and filled with expectation, for his coming, an event most of them would never see. Sometimes considered crazy, sometimes social outcasts, and sometimes, wonderfully, believed. Lifetimes of waiting, and still they hoped.

As I look upon my own little candle, I'm reminded to wait hopefully, not just for the Christmas Child and His promises, but for my own child. To spend this time preparing not just our home, but our hearts, bodies and minds for this child's arrival. To push aside any anxieties about health, parenthood and a lifetime of caring, and to wait, hopeful in the promise of a new life.