Awaiting the Arrival

Pile of packages with tape and florals on top

When my first child was away at college, I couldn’t help but realize that my physical arms were no longer long enough to reach out for a hug or a squeeeeze, as we call them you have to grit your teeth and crinkle your eyes when you say it.😉

Not only that, love couldn’t just slosh out in the same way as when I could sit next to him on the sofa, make his breakfast or iron his khakis when he was here.

Some parents may describe a vacuum-like feeling where their heart is being pulled into a new (lost) state they can't understand. I found myself, instead, with this distinct pressure that needed to spurt out because it didn’t have daily outlets for release. I recently experienced that same feeling. This time with a friend who moved away.

Because what gets mailed on Monday arrives on Wednesday, I had made a concerted effort to stop by the post office to mail a special package. Honestly, it’s not the P.O. run that gets me. It’s the packaging process, and finding and confirming the mailing address that slows me down; but nothing was going to stop me from getting that surprise in the mail. It was as much for me as it was for her. I HAD to express that love that is searching for ways to find its way across the miles. It’s the same wait I used to experience sending care packages to college kids.

Tuesday was longer than normal. Waiting. Knowing the package won’t arrive until Wednesday. Stuck in the “in between.” No hope of any relief until another day passes. Then … Oh, NO! I got a notice saying I had left off a unit number, and the package was delayed another day while they figured that out for me. That Thursday was Thanksgiving, which meant I’d have to wait till FRIDAY!

I went about my business, cooking and cleaning for the holiday; but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I still checked the tracking number on Wednesday just to make sure it didn’t arrive. Waiting. Such anticipation. It’s just a coffee mug. The surprise will be over in no time, kind of like a hug after you let go. But, even if my friend never puts one drop of liquid in that cup, it was an expression of love I just had to get out.

My sanctified imagination thinks this is how our Father feels about us, His most beloved creations. LOVE that just HAS to get out. It’s why He made us.

The expression was complete when she texted me a picture with some heart emojis that weekend, kind of like when we acknowledge God for each gift He sends as it arrives. But, I didn’t do it for the text, or the emoji, or the acknowledgment. I did it because my heart would burst otherwise.

This Advent, as we remember the first coming and await the second coming of the most sacred gift ever given, I hope you'll notice the aroma of fresh-brewed Love wafting your way from a Father, who delivers,  just waiting for you to smell, taste and feel His goodness. You're never out of His reach.

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