As Dona Maria sat beside her long-time friend and shared stories of their ministry together, I had to hold back from crying. These two aged saints, marked by the wrinkles of weariness and long-waiting, finished each other’s sentences. For at least three days a week for many years, they have served asylum-seekers alongside each other in two small rooms in an abandoned strip mall near the San Ysidro border. The rooms don’t seem like much, but they are a nexus of sacrificial hospitality to those most desperate for work, clothing, community, and advice. These two generic rooms serve as a quinceañera hall, a language classroom, a sewing center, a medical clinic, and a make-shift community center, depending on the needs of the day.

As they shared stories, I sometimes lost track of the words because I was so lost in the tender way they looked at one another as allies, friends, and partners in a mostly unseen ministry. My American mind can barely comprehend the stories of complex trauma that they hear and step into scores of time daily. My mind was rushing to dream up systems and structures to help undergird this work and to prevent the need for its continuance. But their minds were present and peaceful right in the midst of such overwhelmingly complex needs. .

All I could think of while interacting with this unlikely set of saints was another unlikely pair in the Scriptures: Simeon and Anna.

Anna & Simeon

Luke introduces us to Simeon saying, “Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him” (Luke 2: 25–26). The Spirit had revealed to him that he would not die before he saw the Christ, the long-awaited, desperately-desired Messiah.

Just a few verses to sum up a lifetime of waiting, longing, praying, and straining. Every single day, Simeon waited. And waited and waited. As the world around him grew complex with the Roman possession of God’s people and tensions mounted even among various groups of his own people, Simeon waited for the only One who would provide the lasting solution. As another day turned into another week turned into another year, he waited and trusted.

In a time when single men and single women did not interact much, especially in and around the Temple, Simeon found a friend in Anna. Luke introduces her in the following way:

“And there was a prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was advanced in years, having lived with her husband seven years from when she w as a virgin, and then as a widow until she was eighty-four. She did not depart from the temple, worshipping with fasting and prayer night and day” (Luke 2: 36–37).

Another two condensed verses to capture an entire life of longing and waiting.

Seven years of wedded partnership gave way to nearly seven decades of being partnered with God. Considering her culture, I can imagine that being a prophetess was lonely work. But she and Simeon had one another. They shared a soul-deep longing for the coming Messiah. They were tied together by a hunger for the Christ to come to this hurting world with healing balm.

If we had patron saints in Protestantism, Anna and Simeon would be the patron saints of Advent. They lived the Advent attitude for the entirety of their lives. As such, they experienced the consolation of the Christ like few others did. The Spirit allowed their straining, tired eyes to see what others missed. This little Galilean child born in Bethlehem, this child whose parents could only afford the “cheap” sacrifice of a pair of turtledoves for his dedication in the Temple, this was the long-awaited One (Luke 2: 22–24, 29–32, 38).

What we achieve (or in this case, receive) too easily, we esteem too lightly. Not so for Anna and Simeon. Their Messiah was well-worth the wait. I can imagine them echoing the words of the prophet Isaiah (with which both would likely be deeply familiar): “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us! This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation” (Isaiah 25: 9).

My Modern Day Anna and Simeon

Dona Maria and her friend understand waiting and longing (and dependence upon God for the waiting and the longing) in ways that I cannot imagine. While they offer uncomplicated love, they don’t pretend to be able to fix the complex problems their constituents carry. They offer what they can. They listen. They love. They serve. But mostly they pray and wait for the One who will come again to restore all things to their intended glory.

I want to learn from them, my modern day Anna and Simeon. I want to look like them when I am their age: tired out from loving so long and so well. Jesus, let it be so. Lord, teach us how to long in the middle of long-suffering.

Dona Maria

In an abandoned commercial plaza,
She fosters a love-saturated space.
Stories of complex trauma 
She meets with uncomplicated grace. 

With a fickle, shoe-string budget,
She weaves a refuge of strength. 
They keep coming to Dona Maria
For her love that knows no length.

People with only a payload of pain
Receive her hospitality and hope. 
From tattered, scattered threads,
God sews a multinational rope. 

Her faithful trips back and forth
Help suture our splintered border.
Her tired body, long spread thin,
She offers to give them order. 

Oh, tough and tender Dona Maria,
Keep holding onto His robe’s hem.
The kingdom of God is advancing
As you see and serve each of them!