Sandra McCracken

Calling, Waiting, Hoping

I've been thinking again about calling, in the most primal sense.  We spend so much time planning, calculating, setting our expectations, and storing up for the future.  These are all important aspects of being human.  But outside these day to day exercises, the most basic human experiences are totally out of our control.  When we are born.  When we take our final breath.  The chemistry of attraction.  Falling in love.

We had a baby girl born last week, and this idea came into full view because I had ample time in the days and weeks leading up to her arrival to contemplate the when's and how's of childbirth.  When left to a natural course, there is no way to predict the hour that labor will begin.  I recognized some signposts that it was nearing, having had a baby before, but even for the most self aware individual, there is no calculation that can measure when it will happen.  

All that to say, it is such a rare privilege (if I may call it that) to experience this intense kind of waiting.  I remember doubting that I'd ever meet "the one."  I was thinking it would never happen, deconstructing the romantic ideals aside under the guise of cynicism.  But then it did, and here we are 8 years strong.  I remember waiting to be pregnant.  It seemed like it would never happen, until it did.  I remember waiting for our son to be born.  And now a daughter, too.  Just when you think you can't wait any longer...then it's the perfect time. And implanted somewhere in my memory is the same anxious waiting for the baby God to be born in a far away village.  And then he was.  

So, I take all these tiny hopes and faiths, and string them together as one giant hope and expectation for that same Jesus to revive and refresh us while we are waiting for his return.  Like a cup of cold water on a long distance run.  This exercise of waiting, and of experiencing a lifetime of little fulfillments, does my heart good.