Photo courtesy of Jason Watson via creationswap.com
“Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son…” Luke 1:13
The smell of yeast met Zechariah at the door. Elizabeth’s back was still turned, her wrinkled hands kneading and stretching the dough. As she stopped to push a strand of gray hair behind her ear, Zechariah’s heart skipped a beat.
God had heard all those years of prayer—the nights when Zechariah had begged God for a child and Elizabeth had wept herself to sleep, the nights they had prayed together while he had stroked her dark hair. When the townspeople began to say that God was punishing them, Zechariah and Elizabeth had kept praying. They prayed for years. Then, when her flow stopped, so did their prayers.
From the doorway, Zechariah could see the crow’s-feet around Elizabeth’s eyes. How they would bunch together, in laughter, at the news.
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Elizabeth and Zechariah’s story captures the weight and waiting-ness of Advent. During Advent we look back to people like Elizabeth—people who were part of a bigger story, but struggled to understand it.
Like Elizabeth, the nation of Israel had waited and struggled. God had promised them a “Prince of Peace” who would rule over Israel forever (Isaiah 9:6). While Elizabeth likely waited more than forty years for her pregnancy, 700 years passed before the prince took his first breath—years filled with exile, oppression, and four centuries of silence from God.
During Advent we look back to people like Elizabeth and the Israelites—people who waited. With them we hold our breath, waiting for the baby-God who will change everything.
