Advent

As a child, I never "got" Advent.  Why were we pretending to await the birth of the Savior when He had already come?  Why were we re-creating the 400 years between the time of the last prophet and the coming of the Christ Child to Bethlehem?  I never felt like I was "waiting" for Jesus when I was receiving Him in Communion every Sunday---waiting for Christmas, yes, but not for Jesus.

Now I know that as a child, my world was complete.  How could I know all the dark, cold, empty corners that existed in the world outside my own little nest?  How could I know that in my own heart there were corners and caves without light, without life, without warmth?  Now I know what it means to wait:  to look at the homeless lying on a cold sidewalk, to look at countries whose leaders imprison and persecute its citizens for dissenting views, to see within myself areas that need healing and warmth from the only One who can reach into the chaos and bring His Own Light. 

The world--my world--- is waiting to be born, is waiting for the entrance of God in the person of the Christ Child, is waiting for the One Who does not mind being born in the darkest, coldest, most isolated corner of the world---the One Who will enter a cave and light it up with His Presence. 

The world is waiting; we are not in the 400 years before Christ.  We are in the moment before He arrives.  Come, O Come, Emmanuel--God With Us!