Midnight Light: Formation
The Sacred Art of Waiting: Finding Formation in Life's In-Between Moments
We live in a world that despises waiting. Express shipping. Instant downloads. Fast food. Our culture has trained us to see waiting as wasted time, an inconvenience to be minimized or eliminated altogether. Yet what if our seasons of waiting aren't obstacles to overcome, but sacred spaces where God does His most transformative work?
The Queue That Changed Everything
Consider this: A family waits nearly two hours in line for a theme park ride. The anticipation builds. The frustration mounts. Technical difficulties stall progress. Just when it seems the wait might be for nothing, they're given special passes to return when the ride reopens.
When they finally experience what they've been waiting for, the journey through the carefully crafted queue line, the themed environment, the building tension—all of it prepared them for the moment they'd been anticipating.
This mirrors something profound about how God works in our lives.
From the moment of conception, we begin a nine-month wait before seeing daylight. We wait eighteen years to be considered adults. We wait for college acceptances, job offers, marriage proposals, and pregnancy tests. We wait for social media validation, transportation, medical appointments, and restaurant tables. We circle vacation dates on calendars and count down to holidays.
The truth is undeniable: we spend enormous portions of our lives waiting.
But the critical question isn't about the waiting itself—it's about what happens during those in-between moments.
Mary's Interrupted Plans
In the Gospel of Luke, we encounter a young woman named Mary living in the small village of Nazareth. Nothing about her background suggested she was destined for anything extraordinary. She wasn't royalty. She didn't come from wealth or power. She was, by all accounts, an average peasant girl going about her daily business.
Mary found herself in a season of waiting—specifically, the traditional Jewish betrothal period known as the "arison." This wasn't merely an engagement as we understand it today. In ancient Jewish culture, betrothal was legally binding. The couple was considered husband and wife, yet they couldn't consummate the marriage until after the second ceremony, the "nisan," which could be up to a year away.
During this year-long waiting period, the bride prepared herself for marriage while the husband prepared their home. Mary wasn't idly counting days—she was actively preparing to be the wife Joseph needed, taking her faith and her future seriously.
It was precisely in this season of preparation, in this time of waiting, that God interrupted her plans.
The Divine Interruption
"Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you," the angel Gabriel announced, forever changing Mary's trajectory.
Luke tells us Mary was "greatly troubled" by these words. This wasn't in her plans. Joseph was in her plans. Perhaps children eventually, after the proper ceremonies—but not this. Not now. Not in this way.
Yet instead of dismissing the divine, Mary leaned into the mystery.
This is where transformation begins: when we allow God to interrupt our carefully laid plans. We humans love control. We chart courses and work toward specific ends, typically choosing the easiest, most direct path possible. But following God often changes those plans and takes us down harder roads—roads we're not yet prepared to walk.
God rarely waits for the "perfect moment" to begin His work. He entered Mary's life in the middle of her betrothal, in the midst of her daily routine. Why? Because He wanted to do something in her that would change not only her life but the entire trajectory of human history.
But for that to happen, growth had to occur. Development. Shaping. Formation.
From Peasant Girl to Theotokos
God was reshaping Mary's identity, moving her from peasant girl to "Theotokos"—the Greek title meaning "bearer of God" or "mother of God."
Being a peasant girl was relatively straightforward. The stress was minimal and shared by many. But being the mother of God? That required a completely different level of faith, strength, and spiritual depth. Mary would need to trust God's faithfulness and presence through circumstances no one else could comprehend. She would walk with Jesus through His entire earthly life, including its devastating conclusion and glorious resurrection.
Formation was necessary. Outside of her cousin Elizabeth, no one had experienced anything remotely similar. In first-century Israel, peasant girls were everywhere. But there would be only one Theotokos.
This is what God does in our seasons of waiting. He invites us to say goodbye to the old and welcome the new. As Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 5:17, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!"
When we step fully into God's plans, we are no longer the same. If you are the same person you were before saying yes to God, something is wrong. True transformation reworks us from the inside out, touching every part of who we are.
The Power of Yes
Mary received something we normally don't get: an angel who laid out God's plan in detail. But even with this divine messenger, even knowing the basics of what would happen next, there remained one critical step.
Mary had to say yes.
"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May your word to me be fulfilled."
Knowing and committing are two separate things. You can possess vast biblical knowledge, be the world's foremost theological scholar, but if it remains locked in your head and never reaches your heart—if it never transforms how you live—it accomplishes nothing.
Mary's yes unleashed God's plan. Her willingness to be formed, to have her identity transformed, to trust in God's faithfulness and presence even when the path ahead seemed impossible—this made all the difference.
Your Season of Formation
Perhaps today you feel like you're standing in an endless queue, waiting for something that seems perpetually out of reach. Maybe it's been six months. Maybe a year. Maybe longer.
Perhaps there's been some progress, or maybe everything feels completely stalled. Maybe you're at what seems like the end, only to discover there's still more waiting ahead.
Waiting is the toughest part. We just want to be there.
But what if we allowed our periods of waiting to lead to processes of formation? What if, instead of merely killing time, we used these seasons to prepare for what's coming?
This is the heart of Advent—a season of preparation to ready our hearts for the coming of Christ. It's a time of formation, an invitation to stop and refocus on the gift we've been given, allowing it the importance it deserves.
God wants to do something in you before He does something through you. He wants not only to form you but to transform you, to create something new.
And just like Mary, you must say yes.
God will not force this transformation. But He does invite you to it. He sent Jesus not to kings in palaces where obedience is demanded, but to a peasant woman named Mary, so that we might have the right to be called sons and daughters of God.
The angel told the shepherds, "For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord." For you. It's an invitation to relationship, to transformation, to formation that prepares us for all God has planned.
God is calling. God is inviting.
Will your response echo Mary's? "I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled."
How will you respond today?
We live in a world that despises waiting. Express shipping. Instant downloads. Fast food. Our culture has trained us to see waiting as wasted time, an inconvenience to be minimized or eliminated altogether. Yet what if our seasons of waiting aren't obstacles to overcome, but sacred spaces where God does His most transformative work?
The Queue That Changed Everything
Consider this: A family waits nearly two hours in line for a theme park ride. The anticipation builds. The frustration mounts. Technical difficulties stall progress. Just when it seems the wait might be for nothing, they're given special passes to return when the ride reopens.
When they finally experience what they've been waiting for, the journey through the carefully crafted queue line, the themed environment, the building tension—all of it prepared them for the moment they'd been anticipating.
This mirrors something profound about how God works in our lives.
From the moment of conception, we begin a nine-month wait before seeing daylight. We wait eighteen years to be considered adults. We wait for college acceptances, job offers, marriage proposals, and pregnancy tests. We wait for social media validation, transportation, medical appointments, and restaurant tables. We circle vacation dates on calendars and count down to holidays.
The truth is undeniable: we spend enormous portions of our lives waiting.
But the critical question isn't about the waiting itself—it's about what happens during those in-between moments.
Mary's Interrupted Plans
In the Gospel of Luke, we encounter a young woman named Mary living in the small village of Nazareth. Nothing about her background suggested she was destined for anything extraordinary. She wasn't royalty. She didn't come from wealth or power. She was, by all accounts, an average peasant girl going about her daily business.
Mary found herself in a season of waiting—specifically, the traditional Jewish betrothal period known as the "arison." This wasn't merely an engagement as we understand it today. In ancient Jewish culture, betrothal was legally binding. The couple was considered husband and wife, yet they couldn't consummate the marriage until after the second ceremony, the "nisan," which could be up to a year away.
During this year-long waiting period, the bride prepared herself for marriage while the husband prepared their home. Mary wasn't idly counting days—she was actively preparing to be the wife Joseph needed, taking her faith and her future seriously.
It was precisely in this season of preparation, in this time of waiting, that God interrupted her plans.
The Divine Interruption
"Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you," the angel Gabriel announced, forever changing Mary's trajectory.
Luke tells us Mary was "greatly troubled" by these words. This wasn't in her plans. Joseph was in her plans. Perhaps children eventually, after the proper ceremonies—but not this. Not now. Not in this way.
Yet instead of dismissing the divine, Mary leaned into the mystery.
This is where transformation begins: when we allow God to interrupt our carefully laid plans. We humans love control. We chart courses and work toward specific ends, typically choosing the easiest, most direct path possible. But following God often changes those plans and takes us down harder roads—roads we're not yet prepared to walk.
God rarely waits for the "perfect moment" to begin His work. He entered Mary's life in the middle of her betrothal, in the midst of her daily routine. Why? Because He wanted to do something in her that would change not only her life but the entire trajectory of human history.
But for that to happen, growth had to occur. Development. Shaping. Formation.
From Peasant Girl to Theotokos
God was reshaping Mary's identity, moving her from peasant girl to "Theotokos"—the Greek title meaning "bearer of God" or "mother of God."
Being a peasant girl was relatively straightforward. The stress was minimal and shared by many. But being the mother of God? That required a completely different level of faith, strength, and spiritual depth. Mary would need to trust God's faithfulness and presence through circumstances no one else could comprehend. She would walk with Jesus through His entire earthly life, including its devastating conclusion and glorious resurrection.
Formation was necessary. Outside of her cousin Elizabeth, no one had experienced anything remotely similar. In first-century Israel, peasant girls were everywhere. But there would be only one Theotokos.
This is what God does in our seasons of waiting. He invites us to say goodbye to the old and welcome the new. As Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 5:17, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!"
When we step fully into God's plans, we are no longer the same. If you are the same person you were before saying yes to God, something is wrong. True transformation reworks us from the inside out, touching every part of who we are.
The Power of Yes
Mary received something we normally don't get: an angel who laid out God's plan in detail. But even with this divine messenger, even knowing the basics of what would happen next, there remained one critical step.
Mary had to say yes.
"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May your word to me be fulfilled."
Knowing and committing are two separate things. You can possess vast biblical knowledge, be the world's foremost theological scholar, but if it remains locked in your head and never reaches your heart—if it never transforms how you live—it accomplishes nothing.
Mary's yes unleashed God's plan. Her willingness to be formed, to have her identity transformed, to trust in God's faithfulness and presence even when the path ahead seemed impossible—this made all the difference.
Your Season of Formation
Perhaps today you feel like you're standing in an endless queue, waiting for something that seems perpetually out of reach. Maybe it's been six months. Maybe a year. Maybe longer.
Perhaps there's been some progress, or maybe everything feels completely stalled. Maybe you're at what seems like the end, only to discover there's still more waiting ahead.
Waiting is the toughest part. We just want to be there.
But what if we allowed our periods of waiting to lead to processes of formation? What if, instead of merely killing time, we used these seasons to prepare for what's coming?
This is the heart of Advent—a season of preparation to ready our hearts for the coming of Christ. It's a time of formation, an invitation to stop and refocus on the gift we've been given, allowing it the importance it deserves.
God wants to do something in you before He does something through you. He wants not only to form you but to transform you, to create something new.
And just like Mary, you must say yes.
God will not force this transformation. But He does invite you to it. He sent Jesus not to kings in palaces where obedience is demanded, but to a peasant woman named Mary, so that we might have the right to be called sons and daughters of God.
The angel told the shepherds, "For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord." For you. It's an invitation to relationship, to transformation, to formation that prepares us for all God has planned.
God is calling. God is inviting.
Will your response echo Mary's? "I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled."
How will you respond today?
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