Thoughts on waiting . . .

I was reading an advent devotional this morning and ran across an entry from Henri Nouwen that really struck me and I wanted to share it here. The subject is waiting. As you may know, waiting is the theme of the advent season--the lead up to Christmas. Not in the sense of waiting to get to the presents, but in the context of waiting on the presence of God.

Many people have commented that this wait to bring Noe home must be hard, and it is. But Christopher and I both have a deep sense of calm about it too that is hard to put into words. I felt Mr. Nouwen did such a beautiful job capturing how we're holding this time of waiting and how there can be such a sense of joy in it, that I wanted to share some excerpts with you--read as little or as much as you'd like:

"Waiting is not a very popular attitude. In fact, most people consider waiting a waste of time. Perhaps this is because the culture in which we live is basically saying, "Get going! Do something! Show you are able to make a difference! Don't just sit there and wait!" For many people, waiting is an awful desert between where they are and where they want to go. And people do not like such a place. They want to get out of it by doing something. . . .

. . . But what is the nature of waiting? What is the practice of waiting? How are they waiting and how are we called to wait with them (the characters in the first chapter and a half of Luke)?

Waiting, as we see it in the people on the first pages of the Gospel, is waiting with a sense of promise. "Zechariah, . . . your wife Elizabeth is to bear you a son." "Mary, . . . Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son" (Luke 1:13, 31). People who wait have received a promise that allows them to wait. They have received something that is at work in them, like a seed that has started to grow. This is very important. We can only really wait if what we are waiting for has already begun something in us. So waiting is never a movement from nothing to something. It is always a movement from something to something more. Zechariah, Mary, and Elizabeth were living with a promise that nurtured them, that fed them, and that made them able to stay where they were. And in this way, the promise itself could grow in them and for them.

Second, waiting is active. Most of us think of waiting as something very passive, a hopeless state determined by events totally out of our hands. The bus is late? You cannot do anything about it, so you have to sit there and just wait. It is not difficult to understand the irritation people feel when somebody says, "Just wait." Words like that seem to push us into passivity.

But there is none of this passivity in scripture. Those who are waiting are waiting very actively. They know that what they are waiting for is growing from the ground on which they are standing. That's the secret. The secret of waiting is the faith that the seed has been planted, that something has begun. Active waiting means to be present fully to the moment, in the conviction that something is happening where you are and that you want to be present to it. A waiting person is someone who is present to the moment, who believes that this moment is the moment.

A waiting person is a patient person. The word patience means the willingness to stay where we are and live the situation out to the full in the belief that something hidden there will menifest itself to us. Impatient people are always expecting the real thing to happen somewhere else and therefore want to go elsewhere. The moment is empty. But patient people dare to stay where they are. Patient living means to live actively in the present and wait there. Waiting, then, is not passive. It involves nurturing the moment, as a mother nurtures the child that is within her. Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary were very present to the moment. That is why they could hear the angel. They were alert, attentive to the voice that spoke to them and said, "Don't be afraid. Something is happening to you. Pay attention."

But there is more. Waiting is open-ended. Open-ended waiting is hard for us because we tend to wait for something very concrete, for something that we wish to have. Much of our waiting is filled with wishes: "I wish that I would have a job. I wish that the weather would be better. I wish that the pain would go." We are full of wishes, and our waiting easily gets entangled in those wishes. For this reason, a lot of our waiting is not open-ended. Instead, our waiting is a way of controlling the future. We want the future to go in a very specific direction, and if this does not happen we are disappointed and can even slip into dispair. That is why we have such a hard time waiting: we want to do the things that will make the desired events take place. Here we can see how wishes tend to be connected with fears.

But Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary were not filled with wishes. They were filled with hope. Hope is something very different. Hope is trusting that something will be fulfilled, but fulfilled according to the promises and not just according to our wishes. Therefore, hope is always open-ended.

I have found it very important in my own life to let go of my wishes and start hoping. It was only when I was willing to let go of wishes that something really new, something beyond my own expectations could happen to me. Just imagine what mary was actually saying in the words, "I am the servant of the Lord . . . let what you have said be done to me" (Luke 1:38). She was saying, "I don't know what this all means, but I trust that good things will happen." She trusted so deeply that her waiting was open to all possibilities. And she did not want to control them. She believed that when she listened carefully, she could trust what was going to happen.

To wait open-endedly is an enormously radical attitude toward life. So is to trust that something will happen to us that is far beyond our own imaginings. So, too, is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life, trusting that God molds us according to God's love and not according to our fear. The spiritual life is a life in which we wait, actively present to the moment, trusting that new things will happen to us, new things that are far beyond our own imagination, fantasy, or prediction. That, indeed, is a very radical stance toward life in a world occupied with control. . . . "

This was the best concise explanation of how Christopher and I feel as we wait for Noe. We really don't have expectations around when or how, but we wait in hope. And we wait actively in the 'now', trusting that there is purpose to this wait, that God is shaping us in ways that He needs to during this time. Even this devotional entry was a gift to me . . . that our wait for Noe is helping me better comprehend and internalize the real message of advent.

Merry Christmas to you all!

The Ziploc is off . . .

The Ziploc went off yesterday and already the bed feels empty. Amazing how the absence of a little 15-inch square piece of (really, really soft) cloth can create such a void. Amazing how a little girl who weighs less than six pounds can inspire such vast love. Thank you to all of you who sent us your suggestions and input. Keep 'em coming, we've got a few shots at these over the next few months.

In the end, we settled on these items:

* The blankie. We ran into a little glitch when Christopher was polishing his shoes next to it on the kitchen counter (don't ask) and the blankie still smelled like petroleum two hours later. We were mortified that we were going to have to wash it and lose the precious 'scent' that we'd imparted on it over the past week. Thankfully, a little stint in the dryer took away most of the stench (of the shoe polish that is, not of us). Christopher will be oh so pleased I've shared this detail with you ;-).

* The onesie. True proof we're morphing into parents. We went into a baby store last weekend and actually cooed at the little onesies before picking out a snazzy little pink and white striped number for Noe. And, yes, there were several moments in the following days when we'd slip it out of the bag and just smile at it, picturing Noe's little head and arms and legs populating it.

* The picture book. Is it gauche to show up at a dinner party with a camera . . . and ask the host to take photos of you? Probably. But Jan and Brent are good friends and crazy excited about little Noe, and Brent did a great job taking the first close-ups that our daughter will ever see of us. Unfortunately, I came up with the impromptu idea of taking another photo of us holding Noe's photo the following night; no shower, no makeup . So she'll be seeing both sides of mommy.

* The camera. We also sent a disposable camera so that Noe's foster mother (Virginia) can take photos of her and send the camera back up to us. So stay tuned for the results!

* The tape recorder. Christopher and I got totally in to recording things for Noe on a mini-casette recorder. We talked to her, we read to her, I sang to her, we just chatted to her while doing various things around the house. But, alas, that's going to have to wait for the next round. Kelly Jo suggested, wisely, that we send it down with her in January so that she can show Virginia how to use it.

* Christmas cards. We also sent cards to both Noe and Virginia. It hit home for me as we were picking out a Christmas card for our daughter, that she wouldn't be with us on her first Christmas. But it is what it is, and she'll be home when she's meant to be. In the meantime, we'll celebrate the gift she is to us.