Two nights ago, I woke up terrified. I was having contractions.
They weren’t very strong or very painful, but they were VERY close together. I thought back to our Lamaze classes and tried to remember how far apart they should be. Then shook Mache awake. “I’m concerned,” I said.
“Don’t worry, honey,” my sweet husband mumbled sleepily, “She won’t come tonight.”
“How do you know?” I demanded.
“Because she knows I’m too tired,” he quipped back peacefully.
Well, it was a false alarm, as if in support of Mache’s sleepy logic. But it terrified me, because I WASN’T READY FOR HER TO COME YET! We hadn’t met with pediatricians to have one present at the birth, I hadn’t packed my hospital bag yet, and we hadn’t installed the car seat! Also, I still had things to do at work, loose ends to tie up, ministry to do! Panic, worry, stress! I just wasn’t ready for a baby!
That little warning in the middle of the night was a month before Ariana was due. And I was thinking today, a month is what we’re gifted during Advent as well. To prepare for the birth of another baby.
I treat Advent like I treat Ariana leaving my bulging belly. I’m not ready for Christmas. I have presents to buy and parties to throw and gift baskets to give to Suti Sana women and caroling in the brothels and Christmas pageants at church…I’m not sure I have room for a helpless, naked baby to come into my life. That month of Advent, when I should be preparing my heart and home in peace and expectation…well, that’s a joke. If I’m not running every second of every day leading up to Christmas, it’s only because my belly doesn’t let me anymore.
So I pray that this Advent season, something wakes you too up in the middle of the night, to remind you to prepare more than shiny ornaments and cookies. And I pray that I will be able to take the warning I was given, step back, breath, and receive it all as the miracle, the gift it’s meant to be.