Anticipation

When you hear or see the word “anticipation” what’s your first thought? 

If you are of a certain age, it might be the 1971 hit record by Carly Simon. It made it to No. 10 on the Billboard Pop Charts, but No. 1 on the adult contemporary list, putting it smack dab in my 1970’s wheelhouse. 

It leads off with the lyric,  

We can never know about the days to come 

But we think about them anyway

Isn’t that the truth. Even though we can’t predict the future, we spend a lot of time thinking about it. And the future arrives slowly. The bigger the event, the slower it seems to come. 

You may also associate the Carly Simon song as the soundtrack to a famous ketchup commercial that imbedded into the American psyche for a decade. Two little boys hovered over an upturned bottle of Heintz ketchup, anticipating the appearance of the crimson condiment and its placement on the waiting hamburger. 

Little Boy #1: “Boy, is your ketchup slow.” 

Little Boy #2: “Yeah but wait till you taste it.” 

While not universal, many of us are wired to think that the future is going to be better. The future, while maddingly slow in arriving is worth the wait. Heintz tag line was “the taste is worth the wait.” 

Sometimes, the better outcome takes longer than we wish, but I have always had the faith that it eventually arrives. As the saying goes, it arrives not in our time, but in God’s time. 

And usually, to be honest, the future is a mixed bag. We might get what we want, but like that color blindness test at the DMV, we must stare at the confusing dots for a moment to find that big number in the middle. 

When awaiting the arrival of a new Archivist of the United States, and I served under a total of eight, my staff was always anticipating a new leader with none of the negatives of the incumbent, and an instant fulfillment of all their hopes. I would always counsel that the new Archivist would not be better, or worse. The new Archivist would be different from the old. That advice gave me a high batting average as an administrative prophet. 

In the Christian world, anticipation is usually a word associated with Advent. The word “Advent” is derived from the Latin word adventus, which means “coming” or "arrival.” Scholars believe that during the 4th and 5th centuries in Spain and Gaul, Advent was a season of preparation for the baptism of new Christians at the January feast of Epiphany. It was a time of fasting, study, and prayer. 

Advent is a season that is now associated with the anticipation of Christmas and there are traditions that are good lessons for any time of waiting. The Advent Calendar disciplines us to take life one day at a time. Each window that is revealed on the calendar gives us a chance for reflection and gives us a sense of progress. On the Advent Wreath, each week another candle is illuminated and projects a little more light into the world to presage the grand illumination on Christmas. 

This has been a season of anticipation for my family. We have been awaiting the arrival of a new granddaughter.  

Someday I will write volumes about the precious little girl who came into our lives on July 31. But for now, allow me to make some observations. 

First, when we do everything within our power to properly prepare, we have an expectation that we will be rewarded with a proper outcome. And the odds are that we will. 

But odds are funny things. They sting us sometimes when we slide all our emotional chips across the table based on probability. While permanent pragmatism spoils life in my humble opinion, we must always be prepared in a corner of our minds for things to not work out as we planned. Packing a poncho on our Ride to the Sunshine is a good idea. 

Second, the same patience that served us in the season of anticipation can serve us well while we await the next step in the journey. Even on a Ride to the Sunshine, some rain is inevitable. When faced with storms, pitching our emotional tents, building a fire (or maybe just a cup of tea), and waiting for the weather to clear is a good strategy. 

Third, when we have a temporary setback, we should look to the experts and to those who have walked this path before. 

Medical professionals have studied the intricate and countless overlapping and interdependent systems that make up the human body. They know what’s inside, what’s connected to what, and how treatment intervenes to make the engine purr once again. Comforting reminders like “not our first rodeo” and “we see this all the time” and “not something to worry about” gives us a renewed opportunity to concentrate again on positive anticipation rather than debilitating fear. 

And then there is the network of friends and family who walk the path with us. Their advice can be helpful. But it is their love and support that warms and heals us, while the doctors and nurses are concentrating on our little one. 

The irony of this journey is that it has been the littlest angel who has been our leader. Her strength and resilience have been a lesson to her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. She is fighting the fight. She has taken the blows and gotten back up. She is leading us on our family’s Ride to the Sunshine.  

My request is this. If you pray, please pray for LRK, her family and her care givers and their families. If you meditate, picture the face of a chubby cheeked angel when you do. If you do neither, think of her as you go about your life today.  

I am looking out my office window at the rain today, but I anticipate sunshine to arrive soon. The taste will be worth the wait. These are the good old days.