Journeying toward Christmas

When we were waiting to adopt our older son, we had a long to-do list.

We had to get fingerprinted, complete pages and pages of paperwork, and wait for governments on two sides of the world to give our adoption the stamp of approval. While we waited for bureaucratic mountains to move, we also needed to assemble a crib and child-proof the house.

I would spend time gazing at the few photos we had, trying to memorize this baby boy we’d never met—but who would become our son. I’d look at his brown eyes, his tiny hands, and his fuzzy hair and wonder what he was really like. What would he think of us? What would our lives be like together?

There was no way to know. So, we waited, with faith and hope.

As Advent continues, we hear the words of St. John the Baptist, telling us to repent, prepare, and “make straight his paths.” They’re good words, important words. We need to do that, absolutely. Still, John’s words this week are echoing in my mind like some of the adoption books we were supposed to read as we got ready.

Those books were helpful, as they outlined some of the many challenges we might experience as a family formed through adoption. It was important for us to know that the road ahead might not be easy—and to prepare ourselves. But I had to temper those books with prayer and more pleasant preparation for our little boy. I had to remind myself that those books offered just a piece of the story, and that our story would unfold in its own way.

The books were factual and well-intentioned. Still, they couldn’t fully describe the journey we were embarking on. Yes, I knew there could and would be challenges. But I wanted to focus on stepping forward with hope, wonder, and love.

John the Baptist is right to call us to action and to preparation. We have much we need to do to prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ. But it’s also impossible for us to prepare ourselves fully on our own. We know that God is accompanying us on this journey with grace and love, inviting us to grow closer to him as we walk toward Christmas.

Love is bigger than all the worries we have about preparing ourselves in the right ways.

Love fills in cracks.

Love connects us to one another.

Love takes brokenness and sorrow and pain and holds it, embraces it, and brings peace—and one day even joy.

Thirteen years ago today, my husband and I boarded a plane to fly to China to meet our toddler on the other side of the world for the first time. We might or might not have been ready to be parents. But we were as ready as we could be—and God took care of the rest, walking with us on every step of the journey.

God is with each of us today, helping us prepare in ways we might not even see. He’s inviting us to draw closer to him and trust and be open to his love. And Baby Jesus will be ready to meet us in the manger on Christmas morning.

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