I have been thinking a lot the past week or two about the parallels between waiting for a baby to be born and waiting for Jesus to come back. In the case of birth, I have to be in a constant state of readiness. Bags are packed and contingency plans are made to be ready to head to the hospital at a moment's notice. At the same time, my daily life has to be lived: children cared for, meals made, relationships maintained, etc. There is this constant tension between what is right now and what could be at any moment. It can be wearying, and not only on me. Our whole family is feeling it. We are learning in the process to enjoy the moments we have while always anticipating what we know is coming.
Today has been a good day. Our work for the week done (amazing!), we just had fun together. Nothing big, just playing and laughing and loving. Going to the park this afternoon, reading together, taking a walk after dinner. But every now and then one of the kids would look at my large belly and say, "I wish Tayan would come out right now." "Me too," I responded. When we were putting him to bed, Cedar said, "I want Tayan to come out so I can see if he has red hair like me." Me too, honey.
As we sat on the back porch this evening, the kids sucking the last of the juice out of their popsicle sleeves and wishing they had more, we started daydreaming about the joys we look forward to in Heaven (i.e., never-ending fountains of popsicle juice or - my favorite fantasy - of chocolate!). I know that I don't long for eternity with the intensity that I desire to be delivered of this baby. I don't know how I could stand to live with that level of longing all the time. But I also don't want to become complacent and content with this present world.
So when I read these words in The Message today, they struck me as very appropriate.
"... I don't think there's any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what's coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.
"All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's
within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs ... yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.
"Meanwhile,
the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of
our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves,
knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that
every detail in our lives of love for God
is worked into something good" (Romans 8:18-28, emphasis mine).
Amen! Come, little Tayan. And come, Lord Jesus!
