There’s no time.
Thanksgiving just finished. The pumpkins are still glowing in the garden. The pilgrims are standing at attention on the dining room table. There are bags of turkey and stuffing in the refrigerator, despite two gallons of turkey soup and a huge casserole. The pies are calling my name and tomorrow is Advent.
Yesterday, at my parent’s home, we were throwing a few boxes of yellow and orange and leafy things up into the attic and hauling down crates of Christmas, filling the living room. The tree is standing at attention in a bucket in the garage. The illuminated angels for the lawn will have to wait a week, there’s just no time. Really. Only three days span the tiny divide between Thanksgiving and Advent.
Advent, a time of preparation for the coming of Christ. Indeed, how is it even possible to prepare everything? I imagine the kings throwing everything on their camels when the star appeared in the sky. “How much will we need?” “How long will this take?” “Where will this end?” “Did you bring the cushions?”
The Bible infers that the angels were waiting around since the beginning of time to proclaim the coming of the One who was before the creation of the world. It’s not hard to imagine Gabriel’s irritation when the first person he tells, Zechariah, doesn’t believe him. “Are you kidding me? No talking for you ’til this is over.” ‘Til what’s over? Elizabeth’s pregnancy.
Pregnancy, a long hello. It seems it will never end and then, bam, you can’t stop it. It’s time. How very kind of God to allow the two women, pregnant with our life and hope, to wait together. Time is always more pleasant, more bearable, when we watch and wait together.
Time. In the fulness of time, the Bible says, Mary brought forth a Son. Immanuel. God with us.
When time is complete, in the blink of an eye – Flash! – He will return: King of kings and Lord of lords.
Soon and very soon we are going to see the King. Alleluia.
There’s no time like the present.