Advent: The Season That Teaches Us to Breathe Again
Advent doesn’t rush in.
It doesn’t arrive with fireworks or fanfare.
Instead, it comes quietly—like dawn creeping over the horizon or a gentle hand resting on a tired shoulder.
And maybe that’s the point.
As a church people, we know Advent as the season of preparation, but somewhere along the way the word preparation began to sound like pressure. We brace ourselves for full calendars, heavy expectations, and the urgency to make everything meaningful. Yet in Scripture, preparation looks far more like posture than hustle—hearts lifted, lamps lit, people waiting with holy anticipation because God is near.
Advent is not about doing more.
Advent is about noticing more.
Noticing the light that still shines in a weary world.
Noticing the promise that has carried God’s people from the beginning.
Noticing the quiet ways Christ continues to make His home among us.
This season reminds us that waiting is not passive. Waiting is worship. It is choosing to believe that God is moving long before we can see the full picture. It is trusting that even in the shadows, light is already breaking through.
Think of Mary—young, unsure, and suddenly standing at the front door of God’s unfolding story. She didn’t have clarity, but she had trust. She didn’t have a plan, but she had God’s presence. Advent invites us into that same kind of faith: not a roadmap, but a relationship.
As we light the candles each week—Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love—we aren’t just remembering a story that happened long ago. We are declaring that the same God who came once in Bethlehem is still coming to us now:
in our questions, in our quiet moments, in our longing for renewal, in our desire for peace.
So this Advent, may we breathe.
May we slow down enough to see God’s mercy all around us.
May we let hope rise, even in the dark.
May we let peace settle into the corners of our lives.
May we make room for joy that surprises us.
May we open our hearts to the transforming love of Christ.
Because the good news of Advent is this:
God comes.
Not because we are ready, but because we are loved.
Come, Lord Jesus.
Come into our waiting and make it holy.