Advent Hope in the Little Years

By God’s grace, I’ve recently returned to my love of cooking and baking. It had been lost in my prolonged season of sleep deprivation, feeling like a daily burden instead of the daily joy it had once been. But it's finally back and man am I excited.

I have always loved developing this skill in the holiday season. The spices and seasonings and general warmth of every dish is truly a delight.

Recently, I found a new recipe I wanted to try for dinner one week. A pumpkin sage lasagna from Half Baked Harvest (my current food blogger obsession). I gathered all of the ingredients and began to chop and dice, when Micah decided 5 minutes was much too long of a break from being held.

I tried to soothe his fussiness with toys and snacks, but nothing helped until I strapped on our baby carrier and stuck him in it. An extra 20 pound appendage is just what this recipe called for.

At that point, Selah decided she needed to be in on the fun too. She wanted so help, so I gave her the bowl of cheeses I’d already mixed together and let her have it. She was content with that for about 20 seconds and then wanted to taste it, wanted to smell the spices I was using, wanted to stir the other bowl of sauce, wanted to get down from her stool, wanted to get up on her stool, wanted to wear the oven mitts…you get the idea.

A process that should have taken 10 minutes took 30 and our kitchen now looked like a bomb had gone off.

But the lasagna was in the oven and smelled amazing. When the timer went off, I got everyone’s plate set, sat down and took exactly one heavenly bite before Micah LOST IT. He had reached his limit for the day and couldn’t wait another second to go to sleep. So I got up and put him to bed before returning to my seat.

Rather than sitting down to enjoy this meal I had fought to get on the table, I then spent the next 20 minutes trying to convince my daughter to eat two noodles. By the time my husband came home, our kitchen and myself were covered in remnants of meal prep, exhaustion and weariness had set in, and the plate I fixed for him lacked the excitement I had started this whole process with.

And that pretty much sums up the little years. It’s messy and rarely goes according to plan.

So how on earth does this idea of Advent hope meet us in this crazy season of life?

Well, let’s take a second to think about Mary. She, by far, holds the strangest pregnancy title. Announced to her by an angel? Without actually doing the deed? And being told the baby inside her was the promised Messiah? The Savior of the world? Yep. That takes the cake.

I often wonder what those little years with the Son of God were like. He never sinned so his toddler years must have been a dream. But he was also a human baby - was he ever colicky? Did he get fussy when he couldn’t communicate his physical needs? Did he sleep through the night, or experience all the common sleep regressions that steal sleep from babies and parents alike? How old was he when his siblings started to come along? What was that dynamic like - to start your family off with, literally, the perfect child and then start to raise the standard sinner?

While the mystery around these little years will remain veiled this side of heaven, God offers us a single sentence all moms can learn from in the life of Mary.

“But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Luke 2:19

This humbling, relatable statement is repeated in Luke 2:51.

Mary was given an ENORMOUS promise with Jesus’ birth. He was the Savior of the world. Our redeemer. God incarnate. And yet, that promise publicly realized until years later. In all the time leading up to Jesus’ public ministry, Mary watched and treasured up every moment she could.

I don’t think it’s too far fetched to say that moms today can imitate this beautiful lifestyle.

You and I are also given an ENORMOUS promise. We will, one day, be completely free from sin and death. Our sinful souls have been purchased by the blood of our Savior, based entirely on Jesus’ work on the cross, despite our constant rebellion again a perfect God. Everything broken in our lives will be restored, our pain and tears will be no more, and our eternal reward will be more incredible than any one of us can imagine.

Because of this promise, we have a strong hope to daily face the trials we walk through, trusting that God is working all things together for our good and his glory. We can daily die to our sin because Jesus has died for it once and for all.

But that promise won’t be realized for awhile. Until we reach heaven’s shore, we will still live life in a fallen world. There will be heartache and hardship. There will be grief and loss. The beautiful gift of motherhood, especially in the little years, will be dimmed by the toddler tantrums and a hectic juggling act.

But the hope we have in the Advent season, is the same hope Mary had at the birth of her son - God had sent a Savior to the world.

So when my dinner is disrupted by tantrums and fussiness, I can respond in the grace God has given me. When sleep is stolen from sickness and teething, I can take heart that God sustains me. When I feel stuck in the day-to-day mundane routine, I have hope because God has redeemed my life and is with me in every moment.

And in the snuggles, in the laughs, in the moments when our children respond with kindness instead of selfishness, and when we see the smallest fruit that our daily discipling is, by God’s grace, taking root - let us imitate Mary and pause to treasure all of these moments in our hearts as we wait expectantly for the day when all will be made new.