While We Wait: Day 17

Each day during Advent, we will post some sort of reflection having to do with waiting, anticipation, hope. Each one will be different, each one a chance to pause and take a breath during this busy season. Past posts are archived here.


At some point in the rather recent past, God quite literally ripped himself into pieces for us. He did it once on his own accord, and then a second time when he gave us permission to rip him apart by our own free will, which is the saddest thing we’ve ever done as a people, but that’s a story for Easter.

The first time, of course, happened when he could no longer stand the trouble, or the fear, or the darkness of mankind.

He had known the day would come for a long time. Standing up there in the balcony of the heavens, God looked and saw us miserable down here, and he did the only he had left to do – the thing he had dreaded for so long.

He sent his son to us.

And the beautiful thing about this whole story is the crushing love God has for his son.

Since the beginning of time, God has been telling us who his son is.

The wonderful counselor. The messiah. The alpha and omega. The bright and morning star. The deliverer. The good shepherd. The author and perfecter of faith. The first and the last. The beginning and the end. The heir of all things. The head of God’s creation. The great high priest. The horn of salvation. The King – eternal, immortal, and invisible. The lamb of God. The lion of the tribe of Judah. The messenger of the covenant. The prince of peace. The resurrection and the life. The savior. The root of David. The true light. The son of the most high.

The blessed hope.

This is how God feels about his son, whom we simply call Jesus. God the baby. God born in a barn. God in the straw. God wrapped in rags and laid down to sleep in a feeding manger for animals. God born from a poor, tired woman who rode a donkey to Bethlehem. God the orphan – adopted by a lowly carpenter.

This is the God who is for us.

This is the God who would stop at nothing in his relentless pursuit of mankind – that he would drop his beloved Jesus out of the clouds to be beaten and kicked and scorned by us all, and after we killed him, he still did exactly what he set out to do. He rose from his own grave and saved us from all of it. He didn’t didn’t come to save us from each other, he came to save us from ourselves – which is the very thing I need a savior from the most.

I’m dark. I’m selfish and cold and heartless, and God knew me well enough back then to know that I would need him now.

He came for me. He came to get me – and he wants you too. He wants to save you from your own trouble. He wants to draw you up out of the well and show you the bright and morning star that came for us on Christmas morning.

The bruised reed he will not crush, and the smoldering wick he will not snuff out.

He is truly the Blessed Hope.

Weep no more!

My deliverer is coming.


photo 1 (4)Today’s post is by Jacob Slaton.

Jacob is a photographer in Little Rock. He and his wife Micaiah have three kids and several backyard chickens. He loves the Grateful Dead, James Taylor, and sitting around the campfire with friends.

You can find him online at jacobslaton.com.

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