A reading for Advent, written by Kerrah Fabacher

The celebration of Advent sometimes doesn’t feel like a celebration at all. The waiting and anticipation of the coming Christ can be a bit tiresome, if we’re honest. We celebrate His first coming, and now we anxiously await His second.

While the world burns around us. While hatred from one person to the next runs wild. While wars still happen and disease and famine and pain and hate. While division is more prevalent than ever before, even among God’s people. Especially among God’s people.

In the waiting, there is often so much pain.

And that is hard.

You have permission to feel it. To feel it all.

Can you take a deep breath right now, and acknowledge whatever it is you feel. In your specific situation, from your experience.

What is that you feel?

Weary?

Lifeless?

Depressed?

Lonely?

Angry?

Hopeless?

Worthless?

What is that you feel?

Will you name it with me?

We all wait and groan for Christ to return, to make good on the promise of eternity, of no more tears and no more pain. We long for him to come and make things right again.

But the beauty of the waiting, of our waiting, is that we still have hope.

The first Sunday of Advent, we light the hope candle, believing that Jesus will fulfill his promises and the prophecies of old.

If you have a candle or Advent candles, you may take a moment and light the hope candle. It is usually purple.

We have hope.

We believe it.

Not based on what we see.

Because what we see is weariness, depression, loneliness, hopeless, and worthlessness. What we see is darkness.

The life and death and resurrection of Jesus brought light back into our darkness.

In Hosea chapter 6, it says,

“Come, let us return to the LORD. He has torn us to pieces; now he will heal us. He has injured us; now he will bandage our wounds. In just a short time he will restore us, so that we may live in his presence. Oh, that we might know the LORD! Let us press on to know him. He will respond to us as surely as the arrival of dawn or the coming of rains in early spring.” (Hosea 6:1-3, NLT)

Though our lives feel so hard sometimes, especially lately, we know He is our only hope. Because we choose to believe He is faithful to his promises.

That He will be ever present with us.

That He will love us no matter what.

That He will save us.

And redeem us.

And restore.

And respond.

And reconcile us to God.

And return to us again.

You may be way too acquainted with grief and pain and trauma. There may seem like much more darkness in your story than light. And there may have been and maybe still are more moments where it feels God isn’t near than moments you feel his presence more clearly.

And your pain is valid. Your feelings are valid.

But your hope?

Your hope doesn’t come from your circumstances.

And it doesn’t change based on your circumstances.

No.

It remains steadfast.

Strong. Unmoving.

Like an anchor.

Your hope comes from Jesus.

And Him alone.

And He will breathe light back into your life.

Let me read Hebrews 6:16-20 over you.

“Now when people take an oath, they call on someone greater than themselves to hold them to it. And without any question that oath is binding. God also bound himself with an oath, so that those who received the promise could be perfectly sure that he would never change his mind. So God has given both His promise and His oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary. Jesus has already gone in there for us.” (Hebrews 6:16-20a, NLT).

“O Soul, are you wearied and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There’s light for a look at the Savior,
And life more abundant and free.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in his wonderful face
And the things
Of earth
Will grow strangely dim
In the light of his glory and grace.

(Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus, written in 1922 by Helen Howarth Lemmel)

Lord Jesus,
Will you breathe hope back into my soul?
Will you show me the light?
Will you forgive me when I turn my eyes
Only to my circumstances?
Will you give me strength to turn them back to you?
Jesus,
I choose to trust in your hope.
The hope that’s an anchor for my soul.
The hope that keeps me going.
That reminds me there is more.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

For free printable version (including reflection questions) and recording of this and all other Advent readings (written and recorded by counselors at Full Life Christian Counseling) click here.