The Beauty of Advent

2025 has been a whirlwind of a year. My church closed in March, and we celebrated our daughter’s birth a few weeks later. I began barber school, planted a church (which we later disbanded), and joined another church. We have had plenty of opporunity to demonstrate a greater trust in our Lord.

Put another way: This year has been a rollercoaster. There has been plenty to grieve, mourn, and celebrate. And these emotions are not mutually exclusive of each other; some days, they occur together, and on others, separately.

This Advent Season has been an opportunity for me to remember the beauty of the incarnation: The Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14). How wonderful that the Lord God, Creator and Sustainer of the whole universe, would condescend to us?

Indeed, this is a time of great celebration and rejoicing, but for so many—myself included—it is a time of sorrow. We find it difficult to rejoice that Christ has come when we see the hurt in our lives. We watch the news and see stories that sadden us, anger us, and make us wonder about the future, but in the advent, we have hope.

Christ has come! The Lord remembered us and sent redemption. 

In Isaiah 9:2-7, we’re told that the Savior will be named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace (v6) and that we will rejoice at harvest time (v3). “The harvest time”, as my pastor explained, is a regular reminder that God has recalled his people—he has remembered them and made provision for their needs.

Still, there are times when we examine our lives and wonder: “Where is my harvest, Lord? Have you forgotten me?” I have wondered this very thing over the last year. When I heard Isaiah 9 preached recently, I was a bit angry because I felt hurt and forgotten by the Lord.

Yet, the Gospel promises that, in Christ, I am never forgotten. Christ was forsaken, so I would never be. He was abandoned, so that I would be brought near. The promise is both for the future and for today. Even when I see no harvest, my Lord is with me through the indwelling presence of God the Holy Spirit.

So, I may grieve that there is no discernible harvest, but I rejoice that my Savior is with me. I may mourn over hopes and desires unfulfilled, but I look forward with anticipation to the day that I will be repaid for years of loss (Joel 2:25). I may mourn over the hurt and pain I have experienced, but I look forward to all that God will do because he has not left me hopeless.
Certainly, since Christ has come and is coming again, I have a “confident and favorable expectation of a future reality” (D. George). This Savior promised long ago is with me today and he understands my hurts, pains, and struggles. The author of Hebrews reminds us that:

Since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens—Jesus the Son of God—let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need. (Heb. 4:14-16).
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As Advent concludes, look upward and set your mind’s attention and heart’s affection on things above—where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God (Col. 3:1). Mourn what you need to mourn. Weep over what you need to weep. But celebrate that Christ has come and look forward to the day when God, in his perfect time and way, will provide the harvest you so desperately long for. He has not forgotten you—the incarnation is proof of that.
 
On the Journey,
KT