Our little accident ended up leading to inspiration, but inspiration for another year out. It all started after acquiring the coveted matriarchal nativity scene from the paternal side of this family. Our toddler played extensively with these ugly, plastic, ivory colored nativity figures. She loves them, and so do we. Ugly as they are, they are durable and have been played with by all the cousins. So. We embrace them with their Euro-centric facial features. We embrace them with their dour expressions for such a joyous occasion like the birth of a King who came to turn systems up-side-down and save all creation.

In our house though, it was Jesus who was turned up-side-down. Toddlers are known for hiding things in random crevices. Ours certainly does. And this time she managed to hide Jesus who remained hidden for at least two weeks. I knew we’d find him eventually and the searching of the babe in the manger took on a new meaning during Advent. We rather liked the idea of searching for the babe during these weeks of waiting. Eventually I found him face down, in the lowest drawer, under the tinfoil. What a great hiding place. I left him where he was and helped our daughter find him on Christmas day.

We shared this story with our small group when a friend informed us of a practice his mother started when he was a boy. She used to place the Three Kings at one end of the house and slowly move them towards the manger as they got closer to Christmas. It was, if you will, a different form waiting. Often people purchase Advent calendars and children spend 24 hours waiting until they can open the next window and get their chocolate. I would prefer finding a different practice other than purchasing an Advent calendar. And perhaps I’ve found that practice.

I’ve always loved the idea of Advent. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait for the music. Wait for the food. Wait for the presents. Wait for the babe. I’m learning more and more how much I treasure delayed gratification – especially when we’re surrounded by SO much instant gratification. Though I love Advent, I’ve never been good with being intentional about addressing it adequately. I think about it on Sunday when our church marks the occasion, but I’ve never experienced a sustained tradition for Advent.

With a family of six to care for, Mom was too busy trying to stay on top of everything else to spend time organizing us for a meaningful Advent tradition. And my dad, faithful as he was, never had the creativity to organize any form of ritual for Advent. I grew up with a few attempts at marking this beautiful part of the church calendar, but nothing ever stuck. When I was single I didn’t really have any inspiration to do something on my own. Now that we have a child though, I’m searching for ways to mark the church calendar in significant ways. 

My resolution, at this point, is to pack our ugly, loved nativity scene in its own box. Separate the three wise men, haul them out on the first day of Advent and place them at one end of the house. From there, move them each day toward the manger scene and as they go, tell their story. Embrace the journey of the wise men and write down their experiences in a journal. Save that journal and read it later. If it goes well, try it again a second year. 

Who knows whether this will work or not. I tend to really hit things hard if they connect with me, but if something isn’t right, I’ll flake out. The idea is exciting though. And so I will wait – a full year – for this New Year’s resolution. Ugh. Somehow, waiting a full year for this isn’t exciting, but it will hopefully lead me/us/her towards a waiting that is full of anticipation, curiosity. In the end it will direct us to Jesus. This time he will be right side up though, and laying in the manger.