Grandpa and Anticipation

The 43rd time I said "Grampa" had to be a challenging moment.  But Grampa would never have let me know.  The night before Christmas and I lay awake in my sleeping bag on the floor while my Grampa lay on the couch.  I don't remember why we had this arrangment, as memory would insist that there was bedspace enough for all.  But, there we were, down-stairs in our little split-level suburban home.  Awaiting Christmas.  I knew that I was meant to go to sleep...for the great hope of making Christmas come a bit faster.  But there was no sleep to be found.  The anticipation was too great.  

Childlike anticipation differs so greatly from what I experience now as an adult.  Awaiting Christmas was filled only with hope and promise, and every moment of wakeful suspence abounded with the delights of knowing that in just 9 more hours(...or was it 8 hours and 45 minutes?) the whole world would be lit up with Christmas lights and the joys of tearing through wrapping paper and knowing that the new video camera would catch the whole memory on film.  There was no anxiety in this waiting, just simply and joyful expectation.

That, I believe, is what the Advent season is about.  That which I understood so intuitively as a child in the hope of toys and family fun I now experince in the anticipation of Messiah's coming.  From the moment of the Fall - for thousands of years - the fallen world had looked forward to the coming Savior.  But they did not yet know His Name.  The did not have the example of His humble entry into our world.  To celebrate the time of our Perfect Provision from God - the Gift of His Son.  That we can know Him, and know peace, life, fullness, and forgiveness.  Anticipating the celebration of His birth is a celebration of all that He is...and HE is all that I need.