"Waiting for the Child" Time

I wrote this for a collection of Advent meditations for our church:

I have come to realize that there are many kinds of time, and they move at different speeds. There is “childhood time,” in which it seems one will never grow up to do the adventurous and entertaining things a child dreams of, but is told, “You’re too young to do that yet.” There is “school time,” when a lecture can seem to take three hours instead of one, and one’s life is measured by bells and homework. There is “waiting at the doctor’s office time” when one becomes seriously convinced that either you will expire right there in the waiting room, or two hours of sitting effects a miraculous cure and you decide you didn’t need to be there after all. There is “chronic illness” time, in which you must watch a loved one slowly deteriorate over a span of years, or watch the changes come over yourself. There is “too little time” when a list of errands must be accomplished in a too crowded schedule. There is “quiet time” when the noise and bustle of daily life can be shut up and away, and your soul can take a breath in peace. There is “hospital time” when you have no control over what happens to you next or when. There is also “hospital time” when you sit with a loved one and lose track of the hours and days of the outside world. There is “Boy Scout time” when delivering a son to the beginning point of a trip, you sit in the car and wait until everyone arrives, mills about, finally packs, and finally departs. My father inculcated in us “airport time” in which you deliver the traveler to the airport, but you cannot leave until you see the plane actually leave. There is “football practice time”, or “music lesson time”, or “wrestling match tournament time” when you learn to take books or small craft projects in the car to while away the time until someone else is through with your child. There is especially “waiting in line time.” I have made peace with that one by realizing that whichever line I stand in will immediately slow down or develop problems which will only follow me if I move to another line. There is “worried mother” time when you doze all night over a sick child, starting up to see if a fever has gone down, or if it’s time for more medicine. Everyone can provide a list of “times” when the hours of your life are not under your own control. Yours probably differ in some degree from mine. On any given day, trying to live with different kinds of time feels like trying to shift gears with no clutch.
Any woman who has borne a child, however, knows that “waiting for the birth” time. It puts you slightly out of sync with the rest of the world, for so much of your focus is turned inward. Can I carry this child to term? What will this child be like? Will he or she be healthy? Will I be able to give this child what he or she needs? And for first time mothers, “How will I get through this process of giving birth? It will inevitably happen, it can’t be put off!”
Mary had the visitation of Gabriel to tell her what was going to happen. What was her “waiting for the child” time like? Was she scared, elated, worried, awed? Undoubtedly. She was human. A human first time mother, knowing that the child within her was of God. Did Gabriel’s words give her strength? Did the child within her give her strength? Or was she living in “God’s time,” waiting for events to unfold as God wished?
And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord;
be it done to me according to thy word.
And the angel departed from her.
Luke 1:38