We are increasingly close to this all being over.
It's a little hard to imagine that coming to pass. After most of year struggling to adapt, adapt, and adapt again to this pandemic, the idea that we might finally have entered an endgame seems almost unimaginable.
A vaccine, now tested and approved for distribution. Production is amping up, and distribution to front line medical workers and the most vulnerable among us now appears to be starting within the month. This is all really good news.
But we're not there yet. It is hard, after all of the sacrifice and adapting of the last year, to look at a finish line that is four to six months away. We're tired and ready to be done, impatient for that day when we can walk into a crowded theater and just watch a dang movie already. We're ready for the kids to go off to school again. We're ready to go and sit with folks we know again, and seeing that end goal so tangibly near at hand can feel too much.
It's not, any more than Advent is too much. As children, we remember that wait as the Season progressed, as we somehow managed to hold on to our sanity as the season stretched on. Days just trudged on by, slow as sludge, as Christmas morning dangled like Tantalus sugarplums, seemingly forever out of reach. We gritted our teeth, and endured, and the day arrived on its own time and in its own way.
For we Jesus folk, the wait for that day when Christ's kingdom is fulfilled can seem equally far away. We yearn for that day of rejoicing and peace, when the lion and lamb lie down together. We've obviously been waiting for a while now, while the lion and the lamb get into an angry pointless rantfest in the comments section. Still, we trust in that promise, and from that trust comes a deep reservoir of the Spirit's patience.
Christmas morning will come. And this pandemic will end. The day will come when we leave the house, realize we've forgotten our mask, and then realize that we have forgotten that we no longer need it.
What a lovely, lovely day that will be.
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