All Too Soon, the Clock Will Strike Midnight - An Advent Post

I'm Catholic, so that means I'm in the middle of Advent season. Advent is the time of waiting and preparation for the Nativity of Jesus (Christmas!). Growing up, I never really took to heart how many times the advent season takes place in our everyday lives. The season itself should help us prepare for other periods of waiting. Waiting and watching!

Now as I'm getting older, I finally understand what it means to be patient. I'm not patient at all. So it's ironic that God has placed things in my path recently that require me to be patient.

I noticed that my prayer life has improved significantly since the beginning of the season. Granted, most of it is me asking for things, but it's an improvement nonetheless. I usually wait for prayer until it's the last resort. I fall into the "what good will it do anyway?" mindset all too quickly.

Recently, though, I have found it to not only bring me comfort, but reassurance that someone is listening. I find myself saying, "if it's your will, God..." instead of "please let this happen for me God..." And then I sit. And I wait. And the silence overwhelms me.

I'll give you an example of a time that was incredibly emotional and was the result of patiently waiting. It was the day after my wedding. (The wedding itself was a day full of perfection, minus some missing champagne flutes and some over tired ripping-of-bobby-pins-out-of-my-hair.)

We had just finished opening gifts with our immediate family at my childhood home. Ben and I were awestruck and humbled at the outpouring of love we had encountered over the course of the entire week. Family started to file out of my house, one by one, hugging and kissing and saying our final goodbyes. My heart was heavy as the realization set in that I was leaving everything I once knew. I was turning the page, I was leaving the nest.

I stepped outside on the front porch to get some fresh air. My eyes welled with tears as I stared out along our driveway and onto the road I grew up on. Flashes of memories flooded my brain.

Wheels spun beneath me legs as my heart pounded faster and faster. "Ready for take off?" I yelled behind me, pedaling as fast as my little legs would go. I was ahead of the rest, my neighborhood best friends behind me, eating my dust.

"Ready!" They yelled back, grins forming across our dirty faces. We all bent over our handlebars as we approached the top of the winding hill. And then....take off.

We lifted our legs off of the pedals and allowed our bikes to glide down the fresh pavement. We whipped by the field of wheat, reaching out our palms to feel it whack against our fingertips. The wind rushed through our hair and made our cheeks red with a type of burning exhilaration.

We were astronauts in space, flying higher and higher into oblivion. No worries in the world.

This was just one of the memories I thought of standing on my front porch that day. I also thought about the times we built snowmen in the front yard. And when Kenny sprayed Ally with the hose and she jumped off the back deck and broke her ankle. And sitting on the front porch in a rocker with Papa, sipping wine and listening to Irish music. And having family meetings in the living room about respecting one another. And bonfires at the neighbor's house in the summer. And trying to dissect frogs in the backyard. And the ice storm of '08. And pool parties with karaoke. And doing decades of the rosary on the floor in the living room, and more and more and more good things.

My life was never perfect, but it was pretty damn close. My appreciation and gratitude for my family and my home grew a thousand times that day.

I gripped the railing of the porch and tried to keep my sobs inside. I was so excited for this new adventure with my husband, but I was terrified to leave the comfort and memories of the house that built me.

That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder and a small squeeze.

I looked behind me and there was my dad, looking tired and frail and emotionally drained. That's when I lost it. I dug my face into his chest and allowed myself to weep. He held me and rocked me and stroked my hair. He told me he loved me and how proud he was of me, like he's done so many times before.

Our Father-Daughter song at the wedding was "Cinderella" by Steven Curtis Chapman. It's a story of a young girl asking her father how to dance from the time she was a little girl, to her prom night, to her wedding day. The dad sings, "And all too soon, the clock will strike midnight, and she'll be gone." (listen to it here)

My waiting had ended. My whole life I had prepared to meet my husband and save my soul for him. My whole life I had prepared to leave my father and mother and one day become ONE with someone else. My whole life I had dreamed of moving away and building a family of my own, and now that time had come and I was terrified. But I was also overjoyed. My vocation was coming to its beginning.

Advent reminds me of that moment, when all of my preparation and waiting had come to fruition. I knew I was on the right path, and this is where God wanted me to be. I was sacrificing so much to be with the man I loved, and it was all worth it.

My husband had finished packing the car. My dad and I shared some words, words that stuck to my heart and made me feel so thankful for him. Thankful that he prepared me in such a way that I was strong enough to do this.

Ben walked over to us and shared a hug with my dad. "Take care of her," he said. He had officially handed over his protective baton.

He embraced me once more and this time, no words were said. I let myself feel the love that surrounded us, from the bottom of my shoes on that front porch to my forehead where my dad planted a kiss.

I got into the car, and my husband started to turn out of the driveway. I forced myself to look into the rearview mirror, where my father still stood on our front steps. He watched us and formed a little smile, waving goodbye. "I'll see you soon," I whispered to myself.

I grabbed my husband's hand, and he kissed it. "I love you," he said.

And my heart leapt with joy. The waiting was over.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

-Tay