“Waiting”   

Simeon’s Moment

One of the most treasured pieces of art on my wall is a picture of old Simeon, the priest in the Temple who held the tiny newborn named Jesus in his arms as he spoke the ancient words of dedication to God of God’s own Son.  It was the first picture on the wall of my little cottage home, and has the place of honor.

Why does it speak to my soul so deeply?   

Maybe it’s seeing the aged, weathered old man holding the tiny little baby boy, tears of unspeakable joy flowing down his cheeks as he recognizes Who this Baby is;

Maybe it’s the tiny, black-haired infant snuggled against the heart beating inside this old Man of God’s chest . . . he had been waiting his entire life with the impossible Hope of seeing his Messiah with his own eyes.  He could never have imagined holding Him in his arms;

Maybe it’s the subtle outline of the continents of the world woven within the fabric of the old priest’s robe…as the whole world continues to wait, largely without the awareness of what . . . WHO . . . they are waiting for;

Maybe it’s the deep awareness that this Baby Boy had come in the most fragile human state . . . for the sake of the whole world, for all of Time;

Or is it the gratitude that wells up in this old heart of mine for drawing my heart to His when I was just a small girl. 

With the deepest gratitude, I know the One for Whom I wait.  Now it’s just a matter of when I will see His Face, and run into His Arms.