Laura Kelly Fanucci

Wait, they said. Good news will come.

So I stood by the window every afternoon that fall of senior year, waiting for the mail truck to reach our street. I’d run down the driveway to see if any envelopes had arrived — thick with acceptance or thin with rejection. My parents asked for updates but never nagged. They were waiting, too.

Finally came the one I had been hoping for. I tore it open, read the yes with shaking hands, whooped out loud, raced around the living room with my youngest brother, and ran out the door to get ice cream to celebrate.

The waiting was worth it. Every single second.

Wait, they said. The big day will come.

So we counted down months and weeks, waiting for the celebration to arrive. We planned the Mass and the honeymoon, the music and the reception. (My mom planned the flowers and food, thankfully!) We sent save the dates so family and friends could circle their calendars to join us. They were waiting, too.

Finally came the sunny Saturday in July. Our parents walked us down the aisle, and we kissed at the end. All the families danced till our feet ached, the little ones running round our legs. I never wanted the night to end.

The waiting was worth it. Every single second.

Wait, they said. The baby will come.

We had to wait longer than friends and family. Our lives became wrapped round with wanting. One year, then two. We wondered if we would ever have a child of our own.

Finally came a positive test, astonishing before my eyes. I jumped on the couches while my husband laughed (and cried). Then we raced to the store to buy another test, just to be sure.

When we surprised my family with the news on Christmas Eve, my mom and sister looked at me with shock, starting to cry. “We thought it couldn’t happen!” they said. They had been waiting, too.

In August, he arrived safe and squalling in our arms.

The waiting was worth it. Every single second.

Wait in hope, faith and love, the wise ones say. Wait and pray. Slow the rhythm of your hearts to God’s time.

We young ones are always impatient (can we be anything else?), but when we listen to their wisdom, we learn.

Families are made by waiting. Made for waiting together.

In good times and in bad, our everyday Advents are the fabric of ordinary time, the cadence of life in families. God makes holy our longing and looking forward. We are changed as we wait together.

Now we are all waiting, our church universal counting down days like children tearing loops off the paper chain each morning till Christmas.

We await Christ’s coming, he who is foreshadowed by all of the good things we wait for here and now. Joyful news and fresh beginnings. Holy love and sacramental feasts. Hopeful dreams and light in darkness.

His love is beyond our wildest waiting. Is there anything more wonderful?

The waiting will be worth it. Every single second. He teaches us each day.


Fanucci is a mother, writer and director of a project on vocation at the Collegeville Institute in Collegeville, Minnesota. She is the author of several books, including “Everyday Sacrament: The Messy Grace of Parenting,” and blogs at