As this year draws to a close, our readings invite us to consider what it means to wait actively for Christ’s coming.

We hear about the worthy wife in Proverbs 31, who is industrious, resourceful, generous, and attentive to the needs of her husband, household and community. She is praised not simply for what she accomplishes, but because she lives out her faith.

In First Thessalonians, Paul reminds us that the day of the Lord will come “like a thief in the night.” We do not need to obsess over the date or time. Instead, we are called to be “children of the light” and “children of the day.” We are called to be alert.

And in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus tells the Parable of the Talents. A master entrusts his possessions to three servants before leaving on a journey. Two servants take risks with what they have been given and multiply it. The third buries his talent in the ground, afraid of losing what was entrusted to him.

Three readings. Three invitations. And one question that connects them all: Where is our heart in the waiting?

Because waiting can be uncomfortable, we want answers. We want certainty. We want to know that we are doing the right thing and that our efforts will produce the results we hope for.

And sometimes, in our desire to be faithful, we become so busy doing things for God that we forget to be with God.

We begin measuring our worth by our accomplishments, our productivity, and our usefulness to others. We compare our gifts with others. We wonder whether we are doing enough, and whether we are enough.

And without realizing it, we can begin to bury the very gifts God has entrusted to us—not because we lack ability, but because we are afraid.

Afraid of making a mistake. Afraid of failing. Afraid of what others might think.

We stay in what is familiar. We cling to the identities we have constructed, the plans we have carefully made, and the accomplishments that help us feel secure.

But is that where God is calling us to remain?

The Gospel Acclamation offers us a different posture. Jesus says, “Remain in me as I remain in you. Whoever remains in me bears much fruit.”

Notice what Jesus does not say. He does not say, “Produce more fruit so that I will love you.” He invites us to remain in Him.

Just as a branch cannot bear fruit unless it remains connected to the vine, neither can we bear the lasting fruit of God’s love when we are spiritually disconnected from the source of that love.

Waiting becomes an opportunity for becoming. While we wait, God invites us to deepen our awareness of whose we are: beloved daughters and sons of God. We are not loved because of what we accomplish. How we imagine God loving us affects how we imagine ourselves, which subsequently affects how we live. If we imagine God as disappointed in us whenever we fall short, we may become afraid to take risks.

Something begins to shift when we begin to encounter God as the One who loves us unconditionally. The One who calls us forth, not to earn our belovedness, but because we are already beloved, made in the image and likeness of God.

We loosen our grip on comparison. We stop looking at others’ gifts and begin looking within. We ask, “God, show me how you see me. What have you entrusted to me? What gifts, experiences, and graces have you placed inside of me? How are you inviting me to share them?”

In the Parable of the Talents, the master entrusts different amounts to each servant, “each according to his ability.”

There is no instruction to compare. The servants are not asked to produce identical results. They are entrusted with something valuable and invited to respond.

The first two servants act. They take risks. They allow what they have received to grow.

Fear becomes the reason for inaction as the third servant buries what he has been given.

The parable challenges us to look within. What have we buried because we were afraid? What gift have we kept hidden because we thought someone else was more qualified? What invitation have we resisted because we could not guarantee the outcome?

God is not asking us to become someone else. God is calling us to become more fully who you and I were created to be.

This means moving beyond the false identities and limiting beliefs we may have carried for years—sometimes shaped by our family-of-origin experiences, painful relationships, or the ways we learned to protect ourselves.

Those experiences may help explain our fears, but they do not have to determine our future.

God continues to call us forth from the places where fear keeps us small. God invites us out of the familiar boat of false security and into the sometimes-choppy waters of trust, where comparison no longer has the final word and our imagination can be expanded to how God sees us and loves through us.

While we wait, we are called to faithful readiness.

To live as children of the light means remaining close to Christ, attentive to God's presence, and awake to the needs of the world around us. Like the woman in Proverbs, may we put our faith into practice. Like the faithful servants, may we use what has been entrusted to us. And like branches connected to the vine, may we bear spiritual fruit that nourishes others and carries God's love beyond ourselves.

As this year draws to a close, let’s continue pondering the questions:

Where is my heart in the waiting?

Who is God inviting me to become?

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