Last night, we stretched our hands out around the table and asked God for help. Four needy children and one selfish mother, all of us rude, asking for God to come to us, and make us right again.
David, the man who patiently lays down his life for his family and friends, was not with us. He was back again to an empty farmhouse with bare floors and bookshelves, enjoying no breathy kisses from a sleepy girl-child, or boistrous story-telling from three sons.
Yes, over the last several months, we have all tasted the sour sadness of daily life that is missing an important, sweet ingredient.
We wait like a rag-tag band of soldiers enduring through a long night.
We wait expectantly for the day he returns to us.
We know that while it won’t be perfect when David comes home, it will be right.
Our family longs for David to come home, because he is love to us in a tangible and human form. My children know their earthly father’s care, his kindness, and his self-control, because they see his actions and they know him. In the same way, I have seen my lover’s goodness, his faith, his selflessness and integrity, I long for him to come home because I know him.
And yet, if we so long for David to return to us, to be whole again as a family, how much more so do we long for our heavenly father to come again?
God took on flesh and we have seen him as a baby and man. He is the husband who stretched out his hands and died for his wife. He is the man who laid down his life for his family and friends. He is the King who wore a crown of thorns to set prisoners free.
God has come to us once, and so we know he will come to us again! And when He does, all things will be made new, even four needy children and a selfish mother, all of us rude.
Come Thou long-expected Saviour. We long for you to come again.
Peace to you and yours this Advent,