Advent Reflection #3

Advent is a time of waiting. We are waiting for the birth of our Savior. We are waiting for our gatherings and our loved ones. We are waiting for miracles.

Let me be honest: waiting is HARD. Yes—hard.

I’ve been waiting for a miracle for years. And if I’m honest, it’s exhausting to wait for something your heart aches for. Others have gotten their miracles, others have seen the physical healing they asked God for. And I sit. Waiting for mine. And sometimes it hurts in a way that feels unfair, lonely, or confusing.

But still… I believe the wait will be worth it.

When I imagine Mary and Joseph in this season of waiting, I picture their quiet conversations during those long nights. They waited. They carried the promise of God inside their ordinary days, navigating fear, anxiety, questions, and the reality that nothing about their lives 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 messing everything up.

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 is a reminder that God often works slowly, quietly, gently—long before we see anything happening on the surface. 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 what are *you* waiting for?

This Advent, I challenge you to press into that place—not avoid it, not rush it, not numb it, but press into it. Maybe, like me, you need a breakthrough in more than one area. Maybe it’s healing, or finances, or your marriage, or mental health, or grief, or infertility, or a relationship that feels stuck.

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 might not realize 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.

You just have to wait. Patiently, honestly, and with hope that God is working even here.