Oscar’s morning routine on waking is somewhat unpredictable, which means for me can be anything from quiet calm to heart racing panic. But since the start of December, most mornings, before the house is fully awake, Oscar has headed downstairs and straight for the Christmas tree to check if there are any presents under the tree.
It’s been the same ritual each day in the Christmas countdown. The checking. The hoping. And yes every morning he has sighed with disappointment that Christmas has not yet arrived. Day after day he has gone downstairs believing today is the day.
This is the picture of expectant hope.
Hope that trusts the promise, even when the fulfilment hasn’t yet arrived. Hope that knows something good is coming, and so keeps watch.
The countdown to Christmas invites us into this same posture. We live between promise and presence, knowing what is coming, but not quite holding it yet. Like a child at the tree, we return daily, hearts alert, eyes open, ready.
And when Christmas morning finally comes, the waiting will give way to joy. But until then, we wait, hearts full of expectation.
O Come o come Emmanuel
Blue Skies & Lollipops 