Nebraska sunset |
As the holidays approach, one of the first things that comes to my mind is the longing for home. I love my current hometown of Reno (as you may have noticed from my incessant posting on Facebook!), but the holidays bring up so many memories of my home state, Nebraska: as a kid, seeing snow at the window and rushing downstairs to see what Santa brought; as a young adult, arriving home from college after final exams to Omaha, feeling the relief of seeing the huge skyline and crossing the Platte River as we made our way towards Lincoln; and now, as a middle ager, dressing my kids in matching pajamas and boarding a Southwest plane with a holly jolly flight crew, coming in bleary eyed, past midnight (because these are the times you get when you fly from one smallish city to another), seeing the familiar kitchen and holiday decorations, trying not to wake up the schnauzer. The common feelings across the stages: anticipation; excitement; familiarity; relief; belonging; comfort; all is right in the world. Being known and loved.
The longing is especially strong this year, as we skipped Christmas travel to Nebraska in 2020 due to covid. We've missed Nebraska over the holidays before - once for sickness, once for weather - but we could always schedule a make up trip quickly. This time, I haven't been home for a full 2 years, which is approximately 18 months longer than ever before. I miss morning chats with my mom, my dad's karaoke, the Christmas cookie selection, and sibling night out to a small town bar. My kids miss breakfasts with their grandparents, play times with their cousins, and visiting Papa at work and playing court in an actual courtroom. We are all thinking about this trip every single day leading up to Christmas.
As I anticipate our Nebraska trip (and hope I'm not jinxing it by writing this post), I think about how this longing for home relates to Advent. Advent is the time when we wait, with great longing. Even when our lives here are going well - when we have (enough) health and (enough) wealth, and people we love to share life with - there's still a longing, a desire for something more. (My friend Lexi wrote a great post about this feeling.)
Advent is the time to notice this longing, to lean into it, and to rejoice that there will be an answer to our longing, and that it will be better than we can imagine. This baby that we celebrate has made a way for us, so we can access this home we all long for. And in this eternal home, we can experience these feelings - excitement; familiarity; relief; belonging; comfort; all is right in the world, being known and loved - in greater strength than we can understand, for all eternity.
This Christmas season, I'm so excited to return to Nebraska and see my family. But much more than that, I'm excited for the hope we celebrate, the longing fulfilled, the light breaking through the darkness. Merry Christmas!