Instant Gratification Denied -------- Advent Embraced

In the age of scheduled C-sections and labor induction on-demand, it’s no surprise to me that, starting a solid 2 weeks before my due date, the phone calls and well-intentioned e-mails start pouring in. And since I am traditionally (and as of yesterday) officially (*cringe*) overdue (*cringe*), my nature has, in the past, inclined me to be annoyed by this vocalization of expectation.
But I’ve learned my lesson, and it’s different this time around.

I enjoy these inquiries into my state and the baby’s, and love bragging about the easy progress I’ve made in the last few days or hours before the true onset of labor.* I love those who call, and I know they call me out of that mutual love. But, more often than not, this on-edged-ness of those surrounding me teaches me a great lesson. And it’s not just one of patience or politeness. No. It goes beyond that.

All of my children have been birthed during the liturgical seasons of either Advent or Lent. Times of waiting. Times of preparation for the coming of Him Who is Life Itself. And most of them have been born a bit late-ish. Which only reinforces the fact that we are – dare I say it? – keeping constant vigil.

We’re watching and waiting and preparing for a new life – an imago Dei.
Listening, hoping, observing every little twinge and movement of the one whom we await.

And now I ask myself and you – are we watching and waiting and preparing for the coming of Christ – at Christmas, at the Resurrection, at the Final Judgment – with the same intensity and vigilance and hope with which we await the birth of this child in my womb? If not, we need to start.

It is Advent, after all. And the Church, in Her ancient wisdom, gives us this time as an opportune gift. Pregnancy, I have learned, is a mere shadow – a symbol - of this time of preparation for our encounter with “Him Who Was, Who Is, and Who Is To Come.”

Today, as I prepare in so many ways to behold the face of my child who is yet a beautiful mystery to me, I ought also be learning how to prepare my soul to behold that splendid, perfectly mysterious face of the One Who made us all and beckons us to Himself. I’m going to do just that.

So, “Maranatha!”
Come, Lord Jesus!
And, of course, come on out, little baby!!!!!


(*At the time of blogication, blogger was 5cm dilated, and over 50% effaced with a ‘bulging bag of waters’ and one very engaged baby. And no painful contractions yet. Excellent.)

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