To kick it off, something I wrote for a different blog last year:
Expectations. They get us into trouble, or at least leave us
with dashed hopes and broken hearts.
I expected that my best friend would remember my birthday. I
expected that I’d be married by now. I expected that I’d be able to have
children. I expected that my boss would respect me. I expected that my hard
work would pay off and I would feel fulfilled. I expected that black and brown
lives would matter.
I expected that things would be…different.
Even when expectations seem quite reasonable, they leave us
vulnerable, at the mercy of someone else to meet…or not.
A great deal of conflict arises from differences in
expectations- among friends, co-workers, family, local and international
leaders alike.
God’s people, too, had (and have) expectations that were
heart wrenching and conflict inspiring. From the moment Adam and Eve left the
Garden, God went before his people, and followed after them, leading and
leaving trails of expectation. “Expect me to show up,” he was trying to teach
them. It was the beginning of Advent.
I will bless your children and your children’s children.
Expect me.
There’s fire in this bush. Expect me.
There’s water in this rock. Expect me.
There’s manna falling from heaven. Expect me.
I rescued you; I will rescue you. Expect me.
I give you this king; I will give you a King. Expect me.
I am your strength, your consolation. Expect me.
I will bring joy to your longing heart. Expect me.
“Expect me,” God whispered for centuries into
wandering desert trails, on cliffs and in valleys, in
palaces and huts, to men
and women and children, to the young and the old, the familiar and foreign, the
rich and the poor. All of creation was living in Advent- looking for signs of
Jesus, feeling vulnerable and impatient, caught between great hope and anxious
despair.
Wilderness wandering and high leader turnover taught a
stubborn and self-reliant people how to expect God to show up. Faith-filled
expectation doesn’t come naturally to them, or me. It’s one thing to expect to
be paid on time, or for a good friend to lend a listening ear. It’s quite
different to expect the God of the universe to come and fulfill all of my
longings, to be the restorer of the whole wide world.
But amidst all the chaos and tenuous promises of the world,
we have a God who whispers gently, and sometimes shouts, into our stubborn ears
and hearts: expect me! The glory of Advent is that the longing and expecting,
the searching and wandering, does end. Jesus comes! (Perhaps not as was
expected…those expectations, man, they’re tricky business). God bids us wait,
expect, learn to long for him. But not forever. Advent was never meant to last
forever. Jesus came! Messy and fleshy from birth to death. He tastes our
sadness. We taste his glory.
It encourages me that the impulse to long for a world
more beautiful, more peaceful, more just, more healthy is not simply childish
discontentment; instead, it is living a life of Advent hope. God’s final word
to us isn’t “wait, hold on” it’s “I’m here, come in.” I’m not always sure what
exactly I’m expecting when I long for the end of our current Advent, for a time
when Jesus returns and shalom invades and reclaims the earth.
The Advent of Christmas tells me that expecting Jesus, now and one day more
fully, is the surest and most glorious expectation I can have.
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