Prompt Writing

What Should We Do While We Wait? By Sarah Jody

An Advent Reflection for A&M United Methodist Church

Psalm 130:5-6

I wait for the Lord,

my whole being waits,

and in his word I put my hope.

I wait for the Lord

more than watchmen wait for the morning,

more than watchmen wait for the morning.

I've done a lot of waiting for the morning these past few years. Maybe you have too. I used to sleep so well...and then we had kids. I found myself up at all hours making sure babies were fed and dry. And then as our girls have grown, I often find myself awake after a small body has worked its way onto my pillow and then I'm up, rocking a toddler back to sleep because she just isn't ready to go back to bed.

If it's not the kids, then those nightime thoughts and anxieties creep in, making it harder to sleep and I find myself yearning, as the poor watchmen in this scripture do, for morning and daylight and clarity. But like them, I am forced to wait.

It turns out that the psalmist is waiting for forgiveness. Crying out to the Lord and waiting for a reply. "I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope." Hope is a word for future things, a waiting word if you will. It brings to mind the light/morning/ forgiveness/ rest that we all seek in one way or another. The psalmist knows that God's word, his promises, will deliver the redemption that he seeks. He has only to wait for it.

As this waiting season of Advent begins, I'm honestly not sure what I'm hoping Christmas will bring. Certainly, it will bring with it a reminder of God's promises, of his love for us, of the joy that can be found in those.

But those reminders are not just for one day of the year. "And in his word I put my hope." If hope is about waiting, then how we wait is just as important as the waiting coming to an end.

So, what should we do while we wait?

Sometime in the past few years as I found myself awake in the dark, often holding a child, I began to pray. In the moments when all I wanted was to be asleep, I began to think about all the other people awake with me. The times when I was barely awake, I simply said, "hello" a quick prayer for Stacy with her new baby, for health and rest and smooth transitions. And on the nights when a lot of rocking was required, longer prayers for friends and family-for those dealing with the loss of a loved one, for friends needing jobs, and for others who came to mind as I waited for my child to fall asleep. While I still missed my sleep, that waiting time in the middle of the night became dear to me. As someone who can't remember to pray during the day, the darkness granted me a few precious, holy minutes when it seemed like the simplest thing to do.

We know Christmas will come just as the morning does. But maybe our waiting during Advent looks a bit like that. Soaking up the quiet moments. Less focus on ourselves and more on others. Trusting in God to deliver us from whatever darkness surrounds us until we are living in the light again.

What will you do while you wait?