Waiting. It felt like I’d been waiting all my life. I didn't have a clear idea of what I was waiting for, at least not at first. I knew what the prophets had said, of course. I knew that one day God would send someone to lead Israel into a better future, someone who would fulfill the prophecies, someone who would free us from the often brutal occupation of our land by those who didn’t care about our God, our culture, our way of life. I hoped I would live to see it, but so had many others throughout our history, and they had died without hope. All I knew was that I had to be faithful, and to wait.
That day I saw a young couple come to present their child to the priest, as is tradition. They must have been quite poor, because they could only afford the minimum offering, so I kept an eye on them to see the priests didn’t neglect them for more lucrative parents elsewhere. I was glad to see old Simeon come over to attend to them. He’s another who was waiting.
Well, we’re not waiting any more! As soon as Simeon picked their child up, he knew that this- this tiny baby- was the one we had been waiting for all our lives, all Israel’s history. I have never felt such joy. Simeon praised God, and I couldn’t stop telling everyone in the temple about that child and the wonders he will do. And I don’t intend to stop! I am old, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll have left to tell others about God’s wonderful faithfulness, but it was a day I’ll never forget.
