Waiting for Christmas

I want to wait for Christmas this year.

I want to celebrate, don't get me wrong. The lights are already up in my front window. The carols are playing right now. I'm not turning into some sort of scrooge here. I want to take the best the season offers, and I intend to. At the same time though, I am sitting here and thinking and feeling the need to cultivate an attitude of expectation in my heart.

I want to want something, to actively, consciously want something this Christmas that no blinky, colored lights or crooning about warm fires and cold snow can satisfy. I want to want, to wait for, the birth of Jesus. Not because it's so cute to imagine the sheep and donkeys looking at the baby in the manger. Not because it makes me feel vaguely hopeful and happy and good-willed. I want to wait. I want to expect, desire, long for, yearn, wish for Christmas because I want to remember how the whole world waited for its creator to come and save them. I want to wait for Jesus' birth.