As I write, I’ve just finished two weeks serving as a juror at a local county court. It came at a particularly difficult time of year for me, as I tend towards slight depression during the shortest days of the year. I’m also recovering from a nasty fall and have managed to pick up a cold as well!
I’ve been called to do jury service on two previous occasions. Though some things have changed since my previous experience about twenty years ago, such as the use of CCTV and doorbell camera footage as evidence, some things don’t seem to have changed.
As before, so much of my time was spent waiting: waiting for trains and buses to get me to court; waiting to be allocated to a case; waiting for all the members of the jury I served on to arrive each day; waiting for the judge and barristers to deal with legal matters before we could start the day’s business and waiting for the kettle to boil so the jury could make a hot drink whilst deliberating.
Some of the waiting involved uncertainty: I wondered whether the delayed train link with a bus to get me to court on time? Would we be called into court punctually or have to wait for another long period in not particularly comfortable surroundings? Would my ‘early lunchtime’ loving stomach betray me in the quiet of the courtroom as the case moved past midday?
Normally during Advent I’m able to take time for reflection, often using daily readings from an Advent themed book. This year, unfortunately, I’ve been so exhausted, both physically and mentally, that I’ve experienced hardly any peaceful reflection in this pre-Christmas season. Instead, my progress through Advent has been dogged by frustration, ill health, stress …. and waiting.
Yet, I sometimes found myself thinking of other people who were waiting at the same times as me but in different situations. For example, those in hospitals, waiting for operations or procedures to start, people waiting anxiously for news of missing relatives, or for a legal transaction to be completed, others waiting for someone to reach the end of their life or for a baby to be born.
Then my thoughts turned to Mary. Her waiting put my own firmly into perspective and I started to see it differently. I realised that mine was accompanied at times by resignation rather than expectancy, and much frustration as the justice system ground through its own time frame and the days dragged on.
She waited for her baby to be born, trustingly, with anticipation, joy, excitement and wonder though, perhaps naturally, with some physical pain and trepidation too.
As is the case with any trial, the lives of those directly involved in the one I took part in, together with their families and friends, may be altered forever in various ways. They may not appreciate how that will unfold, yet, and have more waiting to come.
I’m sure that Mary bore her situation much more patiently than I’ve borne all the waiting of the past two weeks. Even though she couldn’t comprehend the full significance of her son’s birth and how the story of human history would be changed forever as a result. Now that I have time for reflection, I realise that I need to pray for grace to wait patiently, whatever circumstances I find myself in and re-engage with the wonder and awe of the coming of God into our world as a human child.
As we enter the final few days before Christmas, wondering how we’ll fit in all the final bits of shopping and other chores and where those promised deliveries have got to, let’s pause when we can. Pause to remember the outcome of Mary’s patient acceptance of her great commission to carry the son of God to his first coming and pray for grace and patience as we wait trustingly, with anticipation, wonder and excitement for his second coming.
Have a peaceful, blessed and wonder-filled Christmas.
Sunlight Through the Shadows 