December 1

Watching for Morning

December begins in the dark. The alarm sounds while the windows are still black, the kettle heats in a quiet kitchen, and the streetlights are still burning when the first cars pull away. The month that ends in celebration opens in long nights.

The church has long treated Advent as a season of waiting, and Psalm 130 says what the waiting is for. A man is calling up out of the depths, asking God to hear him, and the question he arrives at is who could stand if God kept a record of sins. He asks it as a man who knows his own record, and he asks it about everyone. That is the trouble Advent is set against, and it is why the season ends in a birth.

The psalmist compares his waiting to a watchman longing for morning. Anyone who has kept watch through a long night, beside a hospital bed or over a sick child, knows the shape of that longing. The watchman waits with confidence, because morning has never once failed to come.

Out of the depths I have cried to you, Lord. Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas. If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, who could stand? But there is forgiveness with you, therefore you are feared. I wait for the Lord. My soul waits. I hope in his word. My soul longs for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. Israel, hope in the Lord, for with the Lord there is loving kindness. With him is abundant redemption.

Psalm 130:1-7

The psalmist's hope rests on God's word, on God's loving kindness, and on a redemption held in abundance. He has already said what he would need redeeming from, and he stakes his whole soul on who God is anyway. His waiting carries the watchman's certainty for that reason. God's faithfulness holds through the night whether anyone is awake to see it.

Christians keep this watch at two horizons at once. We remember the morning that has already come, when Christ was born in Bethlehem and the abundant redemption of this psalm arrived with a name and a face. And we wait for the day still ahead, when Christ comes again and every dark thing passes away. For twenty-five days this book will keep the watch alongside you.

Today, simply take up the watch. When the early dark meets you tomorrow morning, let it remind you of the watchman, certain of the sunrise. Bring the whole of your December to this watch, the full calendar and the tired evenings and whatever you are carrying, and God receives all of it gladly. A few quiet minutes, an open page, and an honest prayer are enough for the first of these twenty-five days. Christ has come, and Christ will come again.

Lord, I begin this season waiting for you. You know what is on my record, and there is forgiveness with you. Steady my heart through the dark hours, and keep me watching for your light. I hope in your word.