I love Advent. It's one of those times that just grows in meaning to me with every year. And the last post I did was over a year ago in the advent of Advent. I talked about waiting and how that seemed to be a message God was always working with me on. I was always being told to wait and to trust.
The last post I wrote was over a year ago. This wasn't because I had nothing to write about. It's because the pain and hurt and longing I was experiencing left me in a place where I just wasn't willing to share it publicly. I wasn't able to be that vulnerable
You see, a year ago we were in the midst of trying to get pregnant (about 7-8 months into it), as well as dealing with the fact that my Mom's yearly cancer check-up came back with high cancer markers. I was waiting for answers about Mom's health and we were waiting for a child.
Two years ago one of my closest friends gave me a book for Christmas. It was by Ann Voskamp and was called The Greatest Gift. So last year I started reading through it during Advent.
Advent is a time of waiting. Waiting for our Saviour. Waiting for hope. For peace. For perfect love.
At no time have I felt that waiting as deeply as I did last year. As I read through the book it resonated with my personal wait. As I waited for hope. For peace.
Very few people know the depth of what I felt at that time. That very few days went by where I didn't cry. That there were times when I could barely hold it together until my students left class. That my heart felt so fragile and my pain so real.
I wish I could adequately portray for you the depth of emotion I felt. As Christmas approached we were so sure this was going to be the month. That I could go out west for Christmas and that even in the midst of uncertainty with Mom's health, God would give us this beacon of hope and light. Instead we found out just before Christmas that that wasn't the case. Instead I remember sitting at the back of my darkened class as my students watched Home Alone and I cried.
I didn't doubt that God was still good. He had spent years teaching me that just because I don't get what I want, or what my heart desires at the point, doesn't mean He isn't good. That sometimes His goodness is shown BECAUSE I don't get those things. Because the process of waiting makes me more like Him.
I knew all of this. I knew that God was still faithful. That He loved me.
But that didn't change the fact that last year, during Advent, was the worst pain I had felt. Everyday it seemed like my heart broke a little bit more as we waited for answers. Waited for our hope.
God was still faithful. He spoke to me and to my Mom in the midst of our uncertainty. He reminded us both that just because we hurt and just because we were scared, it didn't mean He wasn't with us. It didn't mean he was going abandon us.
January came and with it brought a clean bill of health for my Mom, but still no baby. But it also brought peace. My heart hurt and I still longed and wondered, but God gave me His peace. And in February we found out we were pregnant.
On September 23rd, 2017, at 8:36pm, we welcomed our son, Anson Daniel Gerry Visser, into the world, almost four weeks early. The first of his week was a bit scary for us, as our baby boy had to stay in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) because of breathing issues, sugar levels, and jaundice. All were pretty normal things for a baby born early to deal with, but it was still scary. Every time I walked into the NICU to feed and hold my boy, I felt my heart break just a little bit more. I shed more tears that week in the hospital than I think I did during the previous season of Advent.
But our boy came home, and Anson is one healthy, happy little guy who is discovering what it means to smile.
Today we sat down for the first day of Advent. One of the gifts we were given after Anson was born was The Wonder of the Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp. Each day comes with a devotional for the day and an ornament to hang on a tree. Today, as a family, we read day one. The Scripture came from Isaiah 11:1: "Out of the stump of David's family will grow a shoot--yes, a new Branch bearing fruit from the old root."
We read about the family of David that was big like a tree, but because of different troubles, the tree had crashed to the ground and was more like a stump. We read how a miracle came, not as something big, but as a small leaf growing from the stump. A miracle came as a tiny baby.
We read that sometimes miracles don't start big. Sometimes they start small. But that miracle is God bringing something good out of something that seems dead. Last year my miracle came in the form of God's peace.
This year, as we celebrated the first day of Advent, as we read about this miracle, this hope, I looked at Anson. He's my Advent baby. The child we had to wait for. I remember the pain and sorrow of waiting. I remember God taking me on a journey of resting in His peace and trusting Him. Of having to put into practice my belief that God's good for me isn't always me getting what I want when I want it.
I think with each year Advent makes a bit more sense to me. This year I understand a bit better what it means to wait for your hope. I think of Israel waiting and wondering about the coming of their Saviour. About how when Jesus came, as a baby, it wasn't at all what they were expecting. It wasn't what they wanted.
But it was the miracle they needed.
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