Hope Is Found In Anticipating Beautiful Endings

​I spend a lot of time trying to 'get' God. Not get as in the acquisition of but as in the understanding of.

As in, what on earth are you up to here, God?

I confess I don't always get far with that, and the moment I feel like I am God shows us and says, no, Keith - that's not really it at all.

Silly me.

But there is one area I have spent a lot of time reflecting on, and at the risk of sounding arrogant, I really do think I get this part of God. A dear friend made a comment to my article yesterday that actually left me more sure of it than ever.

This thing I have wondered about is why a baby in a manger? This God who can walk on water, turn water into wine, give sight to the blind, and turn a few leftover bread crumbs into a feast that would feed thousands, why on earth when it came time to change his residency from heaven to earth would a God so powerful show up as a helpless little baby in a manger?

My friend said yesterday, "God can use the smallest and simplest things to change us. My first grandson will be here just after Christmas."

In her words, I could genuinely feel her anticipating the arrival of that sweet baby.

If you're a parent or a grandparent, or anyone who has been close to the pending birth of a child, you too could genuinely feel it. Is there any kind of anticipation more hopeful and more glorious than the arrival of a baby?

And then there is God - is there anyone more masterful at the use of anticipation.

For centuries the prophets foretold the arrival of this savior. And this savior then showed up in a way no one could have ever anticipated, and yet, at the same time, in a way that we can all fully understand and anticipate going forward.

Most of us can relate to this arrival of indescribable goodness in a baby because most of us have had some kind of experience with the arrival of indescribable goodness in a baby.

I get you, God.

And for a God who builds so much anticipation into our hope, what a beautiful way to lay the foundation.

What a way to build anticipation into the hope that Jesus will come again. Because we do look forward to him coming again.

What a way to build anticipation into our hope for eternal life. Because we do look forward to heaven.

And you know, even in the here and now, even in this often anxious season of the year, maybe that baby in the manger is supposed to remind us to reframe what we are anticipating.

I read recently this part of a definition of anxiousness: "Anxiousness is an emotional thief that robs us of today's peace in anticipation of tomorrow's problems."

Maybe we all take a step toward managing our anxiousness by changing what we anticipate?

In our march toward Bethlehem, I think we absolutely need to anticipate that baby in a manger. But maybe also this season we may want to anticipate healing in broken relationships, anticipate that we are fully known and loved, anticipate that rest is coming for our weary hearts. Because just as God has promised - and will deliver on once again this Christmas season - that sweet baby in a manger, he promises us all of those other comforts in life as well.

This Christmas season anticipate goodness. Anticipate it like the arrival of a newborn baby. When your mind wants to take you to anticipating the worst, redirect your mind to anticipate that baby.

Redirect it to anticipate hope.

The bible is full of reminders that what looked like doom could actually have been anticipated as hope. No one watching that baby in a manger die on a cross some thirty years later anticipated that baby would rise from the dead in a few days.

But they could have. They could have anticipated that.

Because God's promise always has been and always will be - goodness is on the way. And it is a promise that God always has and always will fulfill - even if not in compliance with our own timelines.

A baby in a manger. What a beautiful thing to look forward to.

A baby in a manger, what a beautiful way for God to ask us - what are you looking forward to?

I encourage you this Christmas season to look forward to the unimaginable. Look forward to repairs to things that look irreparable. Look forward to unexpected light in what has felt like forever darkness.

Because the reality is, that's exactly what that little baby in a manger has turned out to be.

Look forward to it.