It’s Advent, the season of waiting and hoping in the Church. During our engagement year, I thought a lot about Advent because it felt like the months were so full of anticipation and hope for our wedding day and the beginning of our married life together. My heart was filled to the brim with hope and desire for sharing life with Andy. The wedding came in June and the summer was full of travels and the excitement of living together. As our schedules slowed down and we entered into a more normal rhythm in the fall, I realized for the first time that I wasn’t working toward something. And I felt unsettled, a bit directionless.
A lot of the big milestones in life which we set for ourselves come in the first third, and once those are checked off, we might feel a bit disoriented. I had my undergraduate degree, my master’s degree, a great job, and now a handsome husband. I became consumed with the question, What’s next?
I started researching doctoral programs, naively thinking another good dose of studies would quiet my restlessness. Having been in my job for 2-1/2 years, I also fell into the bad habit of assuming something new would be more exciting and engaging, and for a few weeks, I lost a lot of energy in my work. But as much as I love academia, I think I was romanticizing the idea to distract from this restlessness. And as I thought about it, I realized how much I’ve come to cherish lazy Saturday mornings curled up on the couch with a book of my choice and a latte in hand. Those are harder to appreciate when papers and class reading loom over one’s head. As exciting as a new job could be, the students I minister to surprise and amaze me continually. I simply have to face this restlessness and not ignore it by daydreaming about the next big thing.
Now, I know that Andy and I have lots to look forward to and dream about. We’re still very much in the midst of “firsts” — we just hosted our first Thanksgiving. We’ll soon have our first Christmas as a married couple. Andy will be finishing graduate school soon, which may take us to new places. We hope to have children some day. We have countries we want to travel to. There is much to look forward to and hope for. But it’s also easy to get wrapped up in what’s next, to be defined by it in unhealthy ways, to misdirect the hope in which we’re all called to live as Christians with obtaining certain statuses or things.
On the first Sunday of Advent this year, I was drawn much more to the call to be watchful — to be alert to the ways God is working in my life, in my marriage, right now. When I look at where Andy and I are on our journey, I recognize how much we’ve grown already in these first five months of marriage. I recognize the little victories, the ways we communicate better, support one another, and make each other burst into laughter. I recognize how much my love for Andy has deepened, and, when I’m awake, I notice the little things that make that love something I can trust in so deeply. It does not have to come through big life events; it can come in small day-to-day ways.
To wait and to hope are necessary parts of the Christian journey. But to be alert and awake to the present is also necessary. Because it’s in doing so that we will be prepared for what lies down the road, which will hopefully offer many good and beautiful things. But there will also be heartache and challenge. Andy and I will most certainly experience painful firsts, such as the loss of a parent or friend, illness, and other life tragedies. Only by growing deeper in our love in the present will we be strong enough to sustain one another during those events in the future.
Advent is a reminder that we don’t wait in vain for God’s love; God is working in beautiful and surprising ways already. We simply have to be alert in order to see it and not let restlessness lead us astray — because restlessness, too, is an inevitable part of the Christian journey. It keeps us longing for the right things. So, stay awake, heart.