Fourth Sunday in Advent

"She will bring a son to birth, and when she does, you, Joseph,

will name him Jesus—'God saves'—because he will save his people

from their sins." This would bring the prophet's embryonic sermon to full term:

   'Watch for this—a virgin will get pregnant and bear a son;
   They will name him Immanuel (Hebrew for "God is with us").'"

(Matthew 1:21-23) 

As I patiently wait for Christmas to arrive, I can hardly imagine the daunting emotions surrounding Mary and Joseph as they wait to see what unfolds for them as a result of God's master plan.  It is hard to even think of being in even similar circumstances.

When I was a child, the anticipation of Christmas filled me with excitement, I became a fidgety kid, and it seemed the days would never pass.  Christmas Eve was the hardest because I couldn't go to sleep for wondering about what Santa would bring, what the presents held under the tree, and what the next day would be like.  All unknowns to a child waiting patiently, or impatiently, for everything to be revealed to her.

Now that child has grown up and she is a great-grandmother.  Other children wait and become overly excited.  My waiting now has a different flavor, if you will -- it is filled with sweetness, joy and the knowledge of that very special gift God sent to us, Immanuel (God with us), Jesus (God saves).  Patient expectation allows me to savor every word, thought and musical sound that leads up to the night that the star shone down on a tiny stable in Bethlemen.  I can almost taste it . . . it is getting closer . . . patiently I'm waiting.



The Sycamore Tree

I can see it as if it were yesterday -- the big old sycamore tree in our front yard.  I was only 5 or 6 years old and this tree seemed enormous.  It was a favorite place of mine in the center of the front yard.  I loved to lie on the ground on summer days and look up through its branches at the glimpses of blue sky and white, fluffy clouds.  And that's where I dreamed imagining the clouds were moving along with me to places of fantasy, strange places and transporting me to another time and place. 

That's what dreams are about at any age, aren't they?  Another place, another time, another country, another whatever.  Dreams can take us away from the every day drudgery that becomes so common place that it bores us to tears.  And then dreams can fall apart and disappoint us.  Sometimes they become so real to us that their inability to come to fruition is sensed as failure.