The Waiting Game

We all play this game from time-to-time. It blends strategy with chance and careful observation. The goal: choose the line with the shortest wait time.

waiting

Players consider the variables of cart load, line length, and cashier speediness. Self-scan lanes are wild cards. In the end, all must pay and pass through the gateway to parking lot freedom.

More than a game, the store checkout line is one of our waiting realities. Waiting is a part of every day for everyone. We wait for birthdays and summertime. For class to end and a table at restaurants. We wait for cakes to bake and mosquito bites to stop itching. With all of the ways we wait, have you ever waited 400 years?

Back in ancient Israel, God used prophets as His human spokespersons to instruct, challenge and remind the people of His truth and love. It was a way of making His presence known. But for a very long time – about 400 years – there were no prophets. God was silent. So the people waited.

In the Bible we read about a man and a woman living at the end of those 400 years: Zechariah and Elizabeth (Luke 1:1-25). Zechariah was a Jewish priest. A man dedicated to serving God. For many years, he and his wife Elizabeth prayed, asking God to bless them with children. They asked — and waited. They asked again. And waited. For decades they asked and waited. But no children.

How do you think Zechariah and Elizabeth responded in their waiting? It’s reasonable to think they experienced seasons of discouragement. Did God really care about their disappointment and pain? Maybe they wondered if God was hearing their prayers? Why wouldn’t He bless them with children?

Not getting what we want can influence what we think, say, and do. How did Zechariah and Elizabeth handle their waiting? The Bible says they served God. They loved their family, friends, and neighbors. God calls them “blameless” in their living. Zechariah and Elizabeth showed us how to wait well.

If you read the rest of their story, you’ll discover that God broke His silence and granted their request. All along He was preparing Zechariah and Elizabeth for a very special child. A child who would signal the fulfillment of a promise made to Adam and Eve way back at the beginning. The promise of Jesus.

In our waiting — when we must dwell in the quiet of the unresolved — we aren’t stuck, hopeless, or unloved. God is with us in our waiting. So whether happy, frustrated, excited, or confused we should strive to live rightly. To honor God with our thoughts, words, attitudes, and actions. To prepare ourselves to receive God’s good plan for us — with gratitude.

Advent is upon us. A season of preparation and waiting. We wait for the return of Jesus Christ when all will be set right and made new. We prepare for that time by seeking justice, acting with mercy, and relating with humility. A steady rhythm of faithful obedience as we submit to the care of our Father and the unfolding of His “right on time” story. Just like Zechariah and Elizabeth.

~ Advent Prayer of Preparation ~

God Almighty,
Keeper of Promise —

Touch our lips with Mercy’s salve;
knead our hearts with Spirited grace.

Inject our minds with Heavenly vision,
and settle our souls with assured expectation.

Christmas in Kibera

Christmas tunes monopolize my playlists. Dietary restraints have been temporarily lifted. And although behind schedule, we’re processing through our collection of holiday movies. Christmas is a wonderful season of tradition and celebration.

Not quite three weeks ago, my family was focused not on Christmas, but Kenya. We were completing a two week adventure that included stops in Nairobi, Thika, Naivasha, Kijabe, Kilgoris, and the Maasai Mara. It was a spectacular journey that filled us with stories to ponder for a lifetime.

We also spent time in the Kibera slum community. Home to hundreds of thousands, Kibera is a startling place. It is tragic, sad, and perplexing. Yet, emanating from a simple mud-walled Kiberan structure was the sweet aroma of hope, joy, and worship. Enveloped by physical hunger, our souls feasted on the richness of redemption served to us by a humble pastor, his family, and Kibera children they love as their own.

Kibera and Christmas. God is with us — all of us.

Let us be hasty to laud the breadth of Christ’s mercy and grace.

Merry Christmas!

** Below are reflections on Kibera I noted while in Kenya. **

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“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”” ~ Isaiah 52:7

Shuffling step-by-step, the distant voices ricocheted and crescendoed along the narrow walls of mud and sticks. One hundred voices, conjoined with the rhythm of clapping hands and amplified music, presented the welcoming prelude. Anxious but expectant we entered the 20ft square room that snugly held its occupants, but proved helpless against the jubilation.

It was the sound of Good News!

A mouse, roused by the happy gathering, emigrated safely along a rafter. Beneath the tin panel roof, greetings, introductions, and recitations came in confident procession bringing both physical and spiritual warmth to our dwelling. With passionate unity, children testified to the Shepherd of Psalm 23, claiming by faith the promise of protection, provision, and peace. They recited Isaiah’s words of deliverance by a Wonderful Counselor. They lifted high the name of Jesus.

Creativity blossomed in small hands that firmly pressed crayons to paper. Craftsmanship found expression through the weaving of colored thread. Entwined in those twists were happiness, gratitude, and friendship.

We shared a communal meal and prayed for each other. Our brief time of life together with the children of Kara Kibera, their pastor, their “mama,” their teachers, and their caretakers drew us into the beauty of a holistic development of mind, body, and soul. We received a vision for restoration, born from the hope of redemption. It was wonderful.

Yet we live in tension.

The perplexity of disparity. The need for solidarity. The responsibility of knowledge. The call to be faithful.

But there is Good News, and He is alive in Kibera!

“And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” ~ Luke 2:10–11

Act Two

A human life delivered
extraordinarily into the ordinary.
A curious entrance.

Like a single grain of silica on a sandy shore.
Familiar yet undistinguished.
Unremarkable but unmistakable.

God — we anticipated more, really.
A powerful show.
A victor’s parade.

You know we love celebrity.
We wanted to cheer and party and flaunt.
This is about us, isn’t it?

No doubt, we resist your directing this cosmic drama.
Right from the start we sabotaged the script.
Act one was a diabolical mess.


But this show must go on — You promised.

So You opened Act Two with your Son, wrapped in humility’s cloak.
Crowded out of comfort, He greeted his world with wordless screams.
An omnipotent, infant voice at which beast and brush shiver with joyful resonance.

Parental eyes, innocent and expectant, lock upon divinity’s gaze.
So ordinary, normal, loud, and messy — like them.

Another grain of sand on the beach of humanity?

No.
Read the script.

This child is living, breathing prophecy.
The Word who word fulfilled.
Our story’s Hero.

Scandalous.
Mysterious.
Miraculous.

Jesus.

Our Child

His was an epic submission to a radical promise. A cosmic exchange: the pleasures of paradise for life as a humble earth dweller. Glory for Golgotha. Life for lives.

Eternity’s Son, He was divinely conceived and prophetically birthed.

What child is this who, laid to rest,
on Mary’s lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
while shepherds watch are keeping?*

Announced by angelic flash mob was that Child. The Child. Our Child. Heaven’s merciful endowment, brought into real-time through a scandalous duo. Obedient outcasts, forced to hold quarters with beasts in a stable.

Why lies he in such mean estate
where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear, for sinners here
the silent Word is pleading.*

Mary’s lap nestled the infinite, incomparable Word. Salvation in infant form. Our righteous rescue. Our holy advocate. His glad desire was to deliver an explosive, sufficient, ever-fresh but unrepeatable expression of selfless love.

So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh,
come, peasant, king, to own him;
the King of kings salvation brings,
let loving hearts enthrone him.*

This, this is Christ the King,
whom shepherds guard and angels sing;
haste, haste to bring him laud,
the babe, the son of Mary.*

Babe. Then boy. Then man. But always King.

What Child is this?

Jesus. 

The God-Man baby of Christmas who humbled himself to be our humiliation. Who experienced humanity’s worst so that we might taste glory. Who set aside everything to make something of our nothing. Our Messiah.

May we never cease to laud His immeasurable worth.

*Lyrics from the hymn, “What Child is This?”

Humble Earth Dweller

Our Lord Jesus~

Creation’s Conductor. 

Master of Angels.

Heaven’s sweet Prince.



A servant of boundless perfection. 

Obedient and kind, you gave for our gain.



A glorious submission.

Immaculate incarnation.

Salvation’s hero.



Uncompromised humanity and full-dosed divinity.

Oh, mysterious oneness!

You shared our air and toiled in our thorns.

Wrestled frustrations and fought disappointment.

Knew hunger and need.

Tasted betrayal.



You wept.



For us and with us as one of us.

A humble earth dweller. 


Pioneer of grace. Embodiment of Truth.

Our wounded healer.

Our champion of love.



Love unbroken. Unqualified. Undeserved.

Abundant in application.

A merciful draught for withering souls.



We drink deep.

We remember your advent.
We yearn for your justice.

We exist by your goodness. 



And we celebrate.



You.



Long expected, our only hope in life and death.

Once humble babe now ruler and King.

Our Savior. Our Lord.

Our Emmanuel.