Inspired by . . . the waiting

Inspired by . . . savoring this life Inspired by . . . the Hope of His Com...

Inspired by . . . the waiting

We all have expectations of life. Even as children, whether we realize it or not, we expect to be clothed, fed and cared for by our parents.

And in many households, especially in the US, we expect a lot of presents on Christmas morning!

Christmas was always a time of great expectation for me as a child. We lived in Vermont where a sparkling white Christmas was almost guaranteed. Mom always had the house beautifully decorated, nearly every surface was an offering to the season. Even the window panes boasted snowflakes and elaborate Christmas scenes. Our beautiful staircase displayed green garlands, gold beads and white bisque cherubs. Mind your step, because use of the railing was not an option at Christmas time!

We almost always had guests. Family and friends would descend upon us from various places around the northeast. No matter where I was in the house, I would listen expectantly for the sound of cars coming up our driveway. I can still remember the feeling of excitement as we waiting for our family to arrive! I’m not sure what enticed them more; the picture postcard Christmas scene, or my dad’s pies!

With great expectation, can come great disappointment. There is one Christmas memory that has stayed with me my whole life.

I was maybe ten or eleven, and all year I’d been wanting {the original} Strawberry Shortcake dolls. Christmas morning dawned, with all it’s wild expectation. My brother and I {nearly} dragged mother from the bed and made our way downstairs to the family room. The tree stood proudly over it’s abundance, and the antique bulbs winked at me with their secret knowledge. Once everyone had been assembled, the opening of the gifts began!

And I got exactly what I’d wanted. But not just one, I’d been given four Strawberry Shortcake dolls! Strawberry Shortcake, Orange Blossom, Raspberry Tart and, I can’t remember the fourth. But here’s the thing: I realized as I removed the bows and the ribbon and tore off the pretty Christmas paper, I didn’t want the dolls anymore. Somewhere between June and December I’d outgrown Strawberry Shortcake. The dolls were my “main” gift, so Christmas that year was hugely disappointing for this little girl. It was no ones fault; my sweet family had given me exactly what I’d asked for, and not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings or seem ungrateful, I kept the disappointment to myself.

A silly memory. Maybe. But it was a valuable lesson to learn at such a young age. I think that is why the memory has stayed with me so long.

Sometimes we can receive exactly what we ask for, and realize we already have everything we really need.

Over the years other disappointments have taught me to temper my expectations. Perhaps it’s been the same for you. You learn that people disappoint, and material things don’t satisfy the way you thought they would.

Maybe you’re like me in this too; despite past disappointments, you can’t help but be expectant at Christmas time. Every year, no matter how hard I try, the sights, sounds and smells stir my senses and once again I am romanced into believing in miracles.

It’s called HOPE, my friend. We all need it.

Desperately.

Christmas is the season of HOPE.

The Hope of His Coming.

You’re hearing a lot about Advent this time of year. The word comes from the Latin ad venire and simply means: to come

Christmas is a day when we celebrate the arrival of the Messiah, Jesus Christ. And this advent season, is a season of waiting, of anticipating, of reflecting on the One Whom we are about to receive.

I hope you’ll join me over the next few weeks as we wait expectantly for His arrival. I have seventeen scriptures I want to share with you about His coming. Scriptures to encourage and inspire you to HOPE.

I know how precious your time is

this time of year.

I’m honored by

your presence

here.

Blessings,