I made the mistake of mentioning that our wonderful friends in Chicago were sending us a package. Now the children simply cannot wait for it to arrive.
“How long does it take to get from Chicago to here?”
“When do you think they sent it?”
“What do you think is inside?”
“If it comes today, do we have to wait until Baba is home to open it?”
Daniel runs to the door every few minutes—just to check.
He finally spots the mailman and opens the door to call out, “Mailman!”
Now I wish I had cookies—or something—to put in the mailman’s hands. But I have nothing.
When the mail comes, our 7-year-old is the first to the door. Of course he is. He has been six inches away from the door all afternoon. He pulls a pile of cards into the house and drops to the floor to open them, one by one.
As I watch him, relieved that the wait is on hold for a minute, I think of the wait for Christmas, for the day we celebrate the birth of the Son of God, our Savior, Jesus, Emmanuel.
If only we were all as impatient for His arrival as my son is for a package.
I remember back to the first Sunday of Advent when our pastor said that impatience can be an appropriate response during this time of waiting. We should await Christmas with a certain expectation, anxiousness, and excitement. And, if we are truly eager for Jesus’ birth into our hearts this Christmas, we should be at least a little impatient.
In these final days of wrapping and baking and stocking hanging, there is something wonderful about filling our hearts with that excitement and eagerness of a child. And so we wait with faith, hope, joy—and maybe a little bit of impatience, too.