A Day Like No Other Day

Posted on by Michele Morin

It was a day like any other day in the life-long ministry of Zacharias the priest.  With Elisabeth’s goodbye kiss still warm on his cheek, he went about his business, reporting for duty in his scheduled commitment to serve in the Temple.

It was a day like no other day when the honor of entering the most holy place fell to Zacharias, and his aging eyes found the burning incense eclipsed by angel light. Startling and strange, the heavenly messenger’s words hooked unbelief, earning Zacharias a nine-month sentence of mute pondering.  God’s four-hundred year silence was broken, leaving an elderly couple blinking and gasping at this new way of understanding the word impossible.

“Well stricken in years” is the delicate, traditional rendering, a state that would have made for a challenging pregnancy in any era — even if you are carrying the forerunner of the Messiah.  Like a spavined barn with tar paper siding, Elisabeth’s olden frame would have been covered with skin already stretched and sagging, but with joy she bore the bone-on-bone pain of an aging back and a heavy load.

Did she understand that her glorious passage from barren to fruitful was more a rending of history than a miracle of gynecology?

//

It was a December day like any other.  There was dog hair that needed to be vacuumed.  There were lessons that needed to be prepared.  There were emails unanswered and dishes unwashed.  By my calculation, Advent season includes the routine preparation of at least seventy-five meals on top of all the other holiday baking and decorating.

It was a December day like none before. Sitting at the dining room table with my Bible open to the pages between the Testaments– the ones that follow the scalding prophetic words and precede the red letters of grace–I imagined myself into the sandals of the faithful. Pausing in this liminal space, I wondered about waiting and the nature of a sinewy watchfulness that keeps on trusting in the fulfillment of a centuries-old promise in spite of all evidence to the contrary.

From the outside, I think it must look like everyday life:
–Elisabeth, hands resting upon implausible roundness as she tries to decipher Zechariah’s chalkboard scribbles;
–Mary, silently pondering a secret that would rock her teenage world and send the tongues of Nazareth wagging;
–Anna, keeping her open-ended vigil, not knowing that the waiting would soon be over and her eyes would see salvation in an infant’s small appearance.

Attending to the faithfulness of these women of Christmas puts parentheses around a moment, as I try to identify with the generations who lived their days in the in-between. Sure, God had promised that a Messiah would come, and those who knew the Scriptures seemed to have a lot of details about it. Even so, for those who held the promise close to their hearts, it must have seemed as if God had pressed history’s pause button, and they had been left standing in a freeze frame, waiting for deliverance.

Fast forward over two thousand years from the dawn of Anno Domini, and we’ve lost that connection between expectation and faith. High-speed internet and Amazon one-day shipping are relics of my forward-leaning Religion of Next. I wear my hurry like an ill-fitting cassock, proclaiming by my words and deeds the counterfeit gospel that God is in the slowest hurry I’ve ever seen. In a fast-forward life, anticipation fades like childhood memory and the long-forgotten sound of Christmas bells.

When Christmas becomes separated from Truth, it lands in my December like a burden–just one more thing in the multitude of things that need to be checked off my list. But, if I stay present to the wonder of Word made flesh, my blunted perception is sharpened just enough to hear God’s present-day proclamation in words that bypass angel lips and star song, but land in power on the believing heart:

“Nothing shall be impossible.”
“God is with us.”

Words spoken into that long ago in-between resonate for today’s waiting.
Simple Truth schools me in the authentic gospel of expectation in which the power and the presence of God bursts through all the shallow frippery and hoopla of a holiday run amuck.
Entering the holy place of the in-between, Truth feeds an advent of belief. For, like Elisabeth, I, too, live in hope for that which is yet unseen, my heart pregnant with anticipation of the Coming that is yet to come.

//

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This post appeared first at SheLoves Magazine.

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Published by Michele Morin

Michele Morin is a Bible teacher, writer, reader, and gardener committed to the truth that women can become confident Christ-followers and students of God's Word. She has been married to an unreasonably patient husband for thirty-plus years, and together they have four sons, four daughters-in-love, and five adorable grandchildren. Michele loves hot tea and well-crafted sentences, poems that stop her in her tracks, and days at the ocean with the whole family. She laments biblical illiteracy and advocates for the prudent use of “little minutes.” She blogs at Living Our Days, and you can connect with her on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter.

32 thoughts on “A Day Like No Other Day”

  1. Michele, I always enjoy your interpretation of scripture stories. So intelligently written and thought-provoking. I will mull on thoughts of Elizabeth’s joy today. Merry Christmas from your neighbor at #thoughtprovokingthursday.

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  2. What a powerful message you have unwrapped in these words, Michele:
    “May God’s present-day proclamation land with power on your believing heart this season:
    God is with us.
    Nothing shall be impossible.”
    Praying you have a blessed Christmas season with your loved ones! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. A wonderful message again Michele, thank you! I have never given much thought to the age of Elizabeth in relation to sagging skin and aching joints. This brings a whole new dimension (for me at least) to the Christmas story. Mary was so young and the implications of her pregnancy (possibly getting stoned for being unfaithful) were challenging enough. But Elizabeth? My goodness! She is at the other end of the spectrum (quite literally) isn’t she? The pain her body suffered to bring the forerunner of Christ into the world, must have been very great. Two women with two very different burdens. It only magnifies the story even more. Thank you!

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    1. I was nearly forty when my fourth son was born, and it was a long nine months. I can’t even imagine how Elisabeth endured, but I’m sure that her joy had something to do with it. Thanks, Kelly, for reading.

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  7. Michele, I love, love, love this post, especially your quote, “But, if I stay present to the wonder of Word made flesh, my blunted perception is sharpened just enough to hear God’s present-day proclamation in words that bypass angel lips and star song, but land in power on the believing heart: ‘Nothing shall be impossible. God is with us.'” Leaning in to this precious Truth, these wonderful words of life today…many blessings to you ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I am SO glad you put Anna on this list. I often think of her around this time…how she must have been waiting and waiting while everyone thought she was old and senile. No one else had their eyes open like she did when baby Jesus emerged from the temple and so no one else got to experience that kind of joy!

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    1. Anna is definitely on my list.
      Long ago I dressed up like Anna and taught her story to a bunch of 1st and 2nd graders (who are probably pushing 30 now). I love her faithfulness and her joy.
      Thanks, Jamie, for reading and for your continual encouragement.

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  13. Such beautiful and thoughtful words today, Michele. Yes, it does sometimes seem that God is in the slowest hurry we’ve ever seen, but it’s really just the twinkling of an eye. The older I get, the greater the anticipation of eternity!

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