Pushing my face up against the icy window, I peered down the front drive anticipating the postman’s arrival. Every day I’d bundle up in my winter jacket to conquer the brisk Wisconsin weather and rush to the mailbox hoping that the coveted Sears Christmas catalog had finally arrived. Known as the “Wish Book” for an excellent reason, this thick catalog of joy heralded the start of the holiday season and gave generations of recipients permission to dream. Its arrival invited hope, anticipation, and a dream of something brighter for our future.

For younger generations who don’t understand the nostalgia, the 600-page catalog’s arrival was nearly as magical as Christmas itself. Long before massive malls and the internet invented impulse shopping, families huddled around one catalog that introduced us to products we could never have imagined and gave names to wishes we never knew we had. We poured over every page, circled our favorite things, and dog-eared dozens of pages. I’d never own most of my circled wishes, but it didn’t stop the anticipation, especially for a fluffy, stuffed dog. I’d cut some of the catalog pages up to make paper dolls and glued popsicle sticks to create small puppets, enjoying imaginative playtime.

Anticipation was palpable, but my expectations weren’t exorbitant. Hope was alive in my dog-wishing eyes.

Is anyone else walking down memory lane with me during a simpler time of Christmas? The Wish Book was our Amazon storefront, yet credit cards were rare, so people only spent what they’d saved. With no “buy now” buttons, often seasons of waiting occurred before we received our most anticipated present. That’s why on my eighth Christmas, I knew I’d get the pink, stuffed dog. It’s all I wanted.

On Christmas morning, my mom handed me the coveted present. I tore through the wrapping paper to unveil a… china doll. What little girl wants a fragile china doll? Disappointment descended. I couldn’t hug or play with her and definitely couldn’t sleep with her at night. It’s not what I had hoped for or expected. The next few years I continued receiving china dolls and my little girl longings became intimately acquainted with unmet expectations.

Do you recall a season like that? When your hope wavered over something far more significant than a stuffed animal? Maybe you’re experiencing it now. Broken family ties, financial hardship, sickness, or loss? Is it wrong to prepare our hearts for unmet expectations this season?

Advent signifies a time to reflect on God’s faithfulness through history. A time of preparation and anticipation as we train our hearts to wait and celebrate the Savior’s promised return. But for the Hebrew people, Jesus’s arrival ushered in a season of unmet expectations within their lingering impatience.

After the Old Testament prophets foretold the coming of the Messiah, the Israelites entered four hundred years of silence when God didn’t say a word. Yes, He was still alive and active, preparing a far better future than we could anticipate. But when Jesus finally came, He crushed their “Wish Book” expectations. His humble beginning wouldn’t make catalog-worthy content because their culture associated the coming of a Jewish king with conquering power and prestige — while the Savior took on flesh as a swaddled babe.

Who could have envisioned their long-awaited King born in a stable, not a castle; raised as a pauper, not a prince?

When Jesus approached Jerusalem for His triumphant entry, the Jewish people expected He’d storm in on a warrior’s horse, establish a political kingdom, vanquish Rome by force, and be crowned King. Instead, Jesus declared His kingdom was not of this world (John 18:36). People didn’t recognize Him. He preached of everlasting life, rather than a prosperous one, and modeled how to serve others rather than be served (Matthew 20:28).

It’s easy to dream of a Norman Rockwell “Wish Book” holiday with family gatherings, meaningful traditions, and white twinkle lights galore. But in God’s upside-down kingdom, Advent reminds us that Christmas also comes with a great cost. Jesus came with a choice that cost Him everything. His life for ours. Definitely not what people expected, but the greatest gift worth everything. Hope eternal which far surpasses any other expectation.

So as I light our Advent candles one at a time, I remember unmet expectations flipped upside down by the One who sears the darkness, thwarts oppression, reconciles the divided, and bridges the chasm of death to life. Our Redeemer who comes amid both excitement and disappointment to meet our greatest longing and invite us to encounter Him anew.

I continued receiving china dolls for ten more Christmases — ten years of Sears catalog disappointment. But a few years after I received that first doll, my dad plowed through the kitchen on my birthday with the most ginormous, stuffed pink dog in his arms. Larger than me and more grand than I ever imagined, my unmet expectations were blown away with this dream coming to fruition.

In my years of longing and waiting, I almost missed that my future held something far better than I could ask or imagine.

It’s probably not a pink dog, but our King is doing the same for you (Ephesians 3:20).

What are you anticipating this Advent season?

 

Listen to Jen’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts.

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