What is your heart longing for?

As a child, when the whisper of winter tickled my ears, the anticipation of snow days began to flow through my veins.

Growing up in a city nestled in the Blue Ridge Parkway meant freedom from school would certainly be mine if the recipe were just right: snowfall that occurred overnight with temperatures low enough to create icy roads. 

When wintry weather was predicted, I remember staying up as late as I could handle, praying for flakes to fall from a silent sky. And if they didn’t come before slumber overtook my eyes, I did something I think most of my schoolmates did as well. I would routinely wake during the night and stand on my bed to gaze out of my lofted room window, breath held to see if fluff stuff was swirling to the ground.

Each time I gazed out the window only to be met with disappointment, I quickly went back to bed, only to awake some sixty minutes later to check again, the thrill of hope in my heart as I peeled back my covers to jump on my bed once again. 

Some nights were cruel. The weatherman got it wrong and I was met with an early wake up time for school. But oh, those magical nights in which my anticipation was met with sheer joy to see the sky raining down a blustery blessing that secured a later wake time, silly snowmen, and hot chocolate by the fire. 

I’ve often wondered what the anticipation felt like thousands of years ago for those who were waiting for the promised Messiah. Though we celebrate Advent each year, we are looking back on history. Like the person who has already seen a movie and knows what happens, if we aren’t careful, the thrill of hope can be easily dulled when we know “how the story ends.” 

As I was thinking about this idea of anticipation during Advent, my school girl experience came to mind. Though praying for snow is a silly example – and one that only gave me a temporary gift – I can still bring to mind that longing in my heart and wonder what it must have felt like for our spiritual forefathers to finally see a long-awaited promise fulfilled.

This advent season, I’m praying God renews each of our hearts with a thrill of childlike hope, not just in remembrance of Jesus’s birth, but in anticipation of His eventual return. 

Powdery blessings from the sky might have secured a few days off from school, but Jesus’ coming – and coming again – secures our eternity.