A Long Wait

The house is all decorated for Christmas.
The halls are decked.
The stockings are hung by the chimney with care.
Christmas music is wafting through the house.

This is my favorite time of year.
There is a sparkle that seems to be sprinkled over everything.
There is an undeniable glow.
There is a palpable spirit of love.

No matter your age, you are a child at Christmas.
The gift giving, the Christmas cards, the holiday baking are all signs of the season.
The anticipation, the waiting, the hope of the promise.
The gathering around the tree under the soft glow of the tiny lights.

When children are little, the wait is excruciating.
Mothers come up with their own idea of a Christmas countdown.
Paper chains are made out of construction paper, where one link is removed each day.
Advent calendars that have doors to open each day until Christmas.

My children were remembering the Playmobil sets that we used to have.
A scene was depicted on a three-sided backdrop.
A box mounted on the wall had doors which opened to reveal a play piece inside.
A sleigh, a Christmas tree, and Santa himself were all hidden inside.

When Christmas arrived, an entire scene had been assembled piece by piece.
Now the entire scene could be played with and enjoyed.
All five of my children have wonderful memories of that toy.
Not knowing what was behind the door, made it even more enjoyable.

We lovingly teased my oldest son about his organization skills.
Now a lawyer, even as a little boy, some of those same qualities were present.
He actually made a chart that hung on our refrigerator.
It was a chart that listed each child and each day and noted who opened what door.

It was very involved since we had four things that required daily attention.
He fairly and efficiently charted the entire advent season so that everyone had a turn.
The funny thing was that they all looked at the chart each day.
It kept things organized and it taught them how to wait and take turns.

The one thing I knew I needed help with was coming downstairs on Christmas morning.
Five children, ten little eyes all wanting to see what was under the tree.
So that no one would peek, I had to come up with an idea.
So that my husband could film their surprise and delight, I had to have a plan.

It was one morning, while I was fixing my daughter’s hair that I came up with the idea.
I knew I would put it into action on Christmas Eve night.
I had the thick red ribbon; I just needed to cut the right length.
I would make a Santa Gate.

I fastened a piece of red ribbon from the banister to the wall at the top of the stairs.
I bought a pair of children’s scissors in a festive color and attached them on one end.
When the children got out of bed, the Santa Gate deterred them from going downstairs.
Or course, they could go under the ribbon, but no one did.

At the crack of dawn, we would hear little feet and little giggles outside our bedroom door.
They’re up, I would tell my husband, who was trying to grab a few more moments of sleep.
I opened the door to find all five children sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting.
Someone would inevitably be fingering the scissors, but thankfully there was restraint.

My husband would go downstairs to get the camera ready.
I pulled the ribbon tight so that it would be easier to cut with the dull scissor blades.
Success, as the ribbon fell and all five raced down the stairs.
As we decorated, this year, they all remembered the thrill of the wait.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” (Luke 2:8-15)

The baby wrapped in cloths, lying in a manger was Jesus.
Jesus was born in the fullness of time.
Jesus came at the appointed time.
Jesus arrived after a time of waiting.

The prophet Malachi ceased his writing about 435 BC.
There was not a word from God.
There were 400 silent years of waiting for the promised Messiah.
Four hundred silent years.

It was as if there was a gate that needed to be opened to signify the end of the waiting.
A way that needed to be made.
A time for God to speak.
Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for Him. (Isaiah 40:3)

The Gate was opened.
God spoke.
The Word was made flesh.
Jesus, our Savior, was born.