Courtney Ellis

Psalm 130:5-6

I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
    and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
    more than watchmen wait for the morning,
    more than watchmen wait for the morning.

Watchmen know the morning is coming. That’s why they watch. It’d be utter foolishness to watch for something that was never going to come.

Watchmen know that their tired eyes will soon see a glimmer of light, a gradual fading of night, the first break of sun over the horizon.

Morning is coming.

Followers of Jesus know that he is coming. That’s why we wait. It’d be utter foolishness to wait for someone who would never come.

Followers of Jesus know that their tired souls will one day rest in God’s heavenly kingdom brought to earth, a glorious triumph of life over death, a new reality of peace on earth.

Morning is coming.

My husband Daryl defended his dissertation this September. In many ways that lengthy academic pursuit was the third person in our marriage the past seven years: Daryl, me, and the PhD.

He worked hard and faithfully, but there were seasons when my longing for him to finish, to free up time for our family, to get to the end of an exhausting academic push felt like more than I could bear.

“How much longer?” I’d ask.

“I’m not sure,” he’d say. And I’d stare at that midnight horizon waiting for the sun to rise.

Waiting can be excruciating.

Yet what surprised me most about the end of a long doctoral program was that the waiting had shaped us. It had changed us. The waiting was not meaningless. Frustrating, yes. Too long? Absolutely. But not meaningless.

In the waiting, we learned to trust each other more deeply, to have hard conversations, to be frugal, to celebrate small milestones even while striving toward the big one.

We learned to ask for what we needed and tell each other when it was too much. We learned to celebrate small pockets of family time, even when they only came in small increments between ministry and academics.

I’m a people-pleaser, so these seven years taught me that sometimes I had to assert my own needs or those of our kids rather than just be his cheerleader.

He’s a workhorse, so these seven years taught him that sometimes he had to slow down, take a break, or stop completely rather than just power through.

The dissertation is done now (Praise Jesus. Seriously – PRAISE JESUS.) but the waiting was a reward, too. Painful as it was. Exhausting as it was. Frustrating as it was. The waiting had lessons to teach when we were willing to receive them.

This Advent, pause in the waiting. Feel the longing in your body for things to be made right, for peace to reign, for striving to cease, for the truth of God to prevail. Feel the longing in your soul for Jesus to come again.

Then watch for him.

Morning is coming.