There’s a little girl kneeling at her window, gazing up into the night sky.
The stars fade in and out of focus as her eyes travel between them.
Searching.
She wills the wisp of cloud away, straining for a clear view.
Was that something?
She jumps up!
A movement? A shadow?
Just another cloud, rolling in and still deciding on its shape.
She releases her breath and lowers back down on her knees.
Still scanning, still hoping.
He will come, won’t he?
Colourful lights reflect on the glass, and the muffled sound of nearby carollers fills her with joy.
Her thoughts turn to the gifts he’ll bring, and if they will be for her.
A niggling doubt creeps in.
She hasn’t been very good.
And he’s been watching.
She shifts on her knees, and notices the slightly worn spot on the carpet.
Her legs ache with pins and needles, and her eyes feel heavy,
But she’ll wait.
She’ll stay awake, and wait.
He will come, won’t he?
She hears movement behind her, and a familiar fragrance fills the room.
Turning, she smiles at her mum and pats the floor beside her.
“Sit with me,” she pleads, “we can watch together.”
Two, side by side.
Scanning the darkness between the stars.
Watching.
Waiting.
“Mum, he will come, won’t he?”
“Yes, love. He will come.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because he said he would.”
And the greatest story of all time fills their hearts once again, as they talk of the gifts he would bring and the price he paid to give them freely.
Peace.
Joy.
Life.
He will come.
He will come.
About this piece
I wrote this short piece to be read aloud at a recent Christmas event at our church. My brief was to write something that captured the excitement and build up for Christmas and how we should have that same anticipation for Jesus’ return.
Hopefully, having read this piece, you’ll have worked out that the little girl wasn’t eagerly waiting for Father Christmas, but for the Son of Man. Her knees ache, and the carpet is worn, from her devotion to watching for his coming. In Matthew 24:42, Jesus says to his disciples: “So you, too, must keep watch! For you don’t know what day your Lord is coming.” (The ESV says ‘stay awake’ instead of ‘keep watch’.)
It’s no accident that you thought of Santa. It’s what all the movies tell us is the most magical part of Christmas, it’s what all our children are most excited for, and it’s the imagery we’re most familiar with as we picture him travelling across the night sky with Rudolph leading the way. But we know that Santa will never come. Do we look up to the heavens and feel the same way about Jesus? Will he really come?
The little girl believes he will, yet she had moments of doubt. And, alone with her thoughts, she questions if she’ll receive the gifts he promises to bring for his children, and if she’s really been ‘good enough’. Thankfully, as Christians, we know that Jesus’ death and resurrection paid our debt in full, and there’s nothing we can do to earn our salvation. But don’t you sometimes drift into a mindset of ‘good works’ and achievement? I do. I forget that God delights in Jesus’ righteousness when he looks at me, and instead I feel his eyes on my nakedness and shame. I want to cover it up with action, but Jesus has already done what needs doing.
Enter mum. She’s just what the little girl needs in this moment: a reassurance that Jesus is coming back, a reminder that the promised gift of life is for her, and a friend to keep watch with. We need ‘Mum’ in our lives. ‘Mum’ is your pastor. ‘Mum’ is the older, wiser Christians in your church. ‘Mum’ is your growth group. ‘Mum’ is your friends who lift your eyes – heavy with waiting in brokenness – to the skies, and who echo Matthew 24:44, “You also must be ready all the time, for the Son of Man will come when least expected.”
Peace. Joy. Life. Three of the things that Jesus will bring with him when he comes again. Forever peace. Forever joy. Forever life. What incredible gifts for those who believe!
There’s so much anticipation and hope for Christmas. Do we feel the same excitement about our Saviour’s return? Will we stay awake for him on our knees?
He will come.
