Advent is a time of waiting. We wait for the birth of our Savior. We wait for our gatherings and our loved ones. We wait for miracles.
And let me be honest: waiting is HARD. Truly hard.
I’ve been waiting for a miracle for years. And if I’m honest, it’s exhausting to keep hoping for something your heart aches for. I’ve watched others receive their miracles—watched them celebrate the healing they prayed for. And I sit here. Still waiting for mine. Sometimes it hurts in a way that feels unfair, lonely, or deeply confusing.
But even in that ache… I still believe the wait will be worth it.
When I imagine Mary and Joseph in their season of waiting, I picture their quiet conversations in the long, uncertain nights. They waited while carrying the promise of God inside their ordinary days—days filled with fear, anxiety, questions, and the reality that nothing made sense anymore. I imagine Mary wondering if she was enough. I imagine Joseph questioning how on earth he would raise the Son of God without failing.
And yet, with trembling hearts and imperfect faith, they kept going.
They waited for their baby.
They waited for their miracle.
They waited with more questions than answers—but they trusted what God had spoken.
Advent reminds us that God often works slowly, quietly, gently—long before we ever see results. The miracle was already forming in Mary’s womb even when nothing looked different. God’s promise was already growing, even in the uncomfortable in-between.
So let me ask you: what are *you* waiting for?
This Advent, I invite you to lean into that place—not avoid it, not rush it, not numb it, but truly lean in. Maybe, like me, you’re praying for multiple breakthroughs. Maybe it’s healing. Finances. Your marriage. Mental health. Grief. Infertility. A relationship that feels stuck. Something you can’t quite name.
Whatever it is, God is not ignoring you. He is not late. He is not indifferent. He is preparing something in the quiet, in the unseen, in ways you may not recognize yet.
Advent invites us to trust the slow work of God.
And even in the waiting—even in the longing—we can dare to believe that God is already moving, already forming, already faithful.
All we’re asked to do is wait—patiently, honestly, and with hope that God is working even here.
