Staring into the darkness, I couldn’t bring myself to leave my bed. Only a narrow stream of fading sunlight slipped in through a gap in the curtains. I had been there all day, alternating between crying, sleeping, and staring at the shadows in this tiny apartment that was suddenly my home. Alone, because I no longer had a place with my husband. Now I walked a valley called divorce.
Losing almost everything while dreams were shattered extinguished any hope. Hope believes there will be light on the other side of the darkness. It implies that pain is only temporary. But this… this seemed infinite. If there was an end to this season, if there was any kind of future at all, the hurt could still last for too long. With sorrow comes a flood of doubt, sweeping away the last remnants of hope, clouding the view of tomorrow.
Without hope, there could not be joy. Happiness existed for other people, far away from my own heart. And peace? I barely remembered what that felt like. The turmoil had settled in so long ago that it became a fixture. The landscape changed from fights and arguments to hollow silence, but the sleepless nights remained. I was grasping for God in the dark.
And this also is Advent.
Thousands of years before this moment, God’s people waited in spiritual darkness. They were told a Savior was coming, but when? Centuries stretched on with no sign of Messiah. Though now we count down the days until we celebrate the birth of the Lord, they had no calendars of chocolate, no paper chains to tear, no end in sight. Indefinite waiting brings that flood of doubt, washing out hope, joy, and peace.
But then there’s love. For me, it was a glimmer of light in the darkness. Caring people wrapped me in prayer, provision, and their presence- tangible gifts from our compassionate God. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows (James 1:17). They loved me as God loves, helping me recognize how His faithful, everlasting tenderness poured directly into my heart. Love helped me take one feeble step at a time through the dark valley.
That love came with hope: Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1). I couldn’t yet imagine a bright future, but I could trust the One who held it in His hands.
There was peace: He says, “Be still, and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10), calming my fears and somehow letting me sleep as I trusted problems and heaviness to His sovereign care.
Even joy crept in: Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning (Psalm 30:5b). I wasn’t quite ready to rejoice, but a small smile for a brief moment or an occasional laugh at a friend’s light-hearted comments slowly warmed my heart as if sitting near a fire on a cold night.
The miracle of Advent is not bound by a calendar or a holiday. We hold Advent in our hearts during each of our most difficult circumstances and bleakest seasons. But, dear one, we are never in the dark alone. God holds and strengthens us in the waiting, the unknown, and the pain. Like those before us, we wait not only for Christ’s return, but for the light to come back into our lives, all without knowing exactly when that will be.
We often rush the weeks leading up to our Christmas celebration because our eyes are so focused on what is coming. Then we miss the fullness of the gifts Advent brings. Our Savior is near, surrounding us in the richness of His love, encouraging us with hope that defies our situation, giving us just enough joy to help our hearts stay tender, and covering us with peace beyond comprehension. There is purpose to our Advent season, being close to God as He heals us and prepares us for the days to come.
These gifts open our eyes to His nurturing presence in every moment. He is the Light in our dark- brighter, steadier, and longer lasting than the candles on our Advent wreath. And so we wait, our hand securely in His, knowing that rescue is coming. There is hope, joy, and peace because there is His love.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned…For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:2 & 6 NIV).
Light in the Advent Darkness
This is wonderful - thanks for being brave.