As we move into the second week of Advent, many of us find that the season can feel familiar, almost routine. But nothing about the birth of Christ is routine. As our family prepares to welcome a new granddaughter in April, we are reminded that waiting, especially when it is filled with hope, should stir something deep within us. My hope is that this Advent will renew our excitement for the God who still comes into our lives with new beginnings.

Advent has begun, and once again we find ourselves lighting candles, opening Scripture, singing cherished hymns, and preparing our hearts for Christmas. Whether we mark this season with an Advent wreath, a red and green Advent chain, or simple daily devotions, the rhythm is often familiar. And as good as these traditions are, familiarity sometimes dulls wonder. Christmas can begin to feel like something we repeat rather than something we receive.

This year, God has given our family a gentle reminder of what true anticipation feels like. My wife and I are awaiting the arrival of our twelfth grandchild, a precious baby girl, the first child for our youngest son and his wife. You might think that after eleven grandchildren the excitement would settle by now, but it hasn’t. Each new child brings fresh joy and fresh awe. We imagine her tiny fingers and her first smile, and we picture her being welcomed into the big, noisy, love-filled circle that is our family.

It is remarkable how the expectation of a new life awakens something inside us. And it has reminded me that this sense of wonder, this thrill of expectancy, is at the very heart of Advent.

Advent is not simply a countdown to a holiday. It is an invitation to awaken our hearts to the astonishing truth that God draws near. It encourages us to rediscover the excitement we felt when we first heard the Christmas story. Waiting for a granddaughter and waiting for the Savior share something important, they both teach us to slow down, to breathe, and to pay attention. They remind us that love never becomes routine.

Scripture gives us similar moments of holy anticipation. When the angels brought good news to the shepherds, their hearts were filled with awe and urgency. They hurried to Bethlehem, not because they were commanded to, but because wonder moved them. Advent invites us to recover some of that same eagerness, that same openness to God’s surprising and tender work in our lives.

Yet waiting is not something our culture does well. We rush, we hurry, we multitask, and we fill every available moment with noise or activity. Advent arrives as a gentle interruption, a sacred pause, inviting us to slow down long enough to notice the miracle already forming in the quiet places of our lives.

This season encourages us to ask:

  • What if the waiting is part of God’s gift?
  • What if the pause is where God prepares us?
  • What if anticipation awakens something sacred within us?

Psalm 130 says, “My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning.” Those words capture the heart of Advent, watching, hoping, listening, straining toward the light.

So how do we enter this season with deeper intention?

We can slow down.

Take a few minutes each day to breathe, reflect, and remember that God is near.

We can pay attention.

Notice small blessings. God often speaks through the ordinary.

We can reach out.

Someone around us feels forgotten. A simple act of kindness may be the very sign of hope they are waiting for.

We can pray with expectancy.

Not just saying familiar words, but inviting Christ into our lives in a new way.

We can rekindle our wonder.

When we look at the nativity, let us see it not as a decoration, but as the moment hope entered our world wrapped in human flesh.

As we await the arrival of our little granddaughter, I am reminded again that life is never routine, hope is never outdated, and love is never something we outgrow. When we allow Advent to stir that kind of wonder within us, it changes not only how we approach Christmas, but how we love others, especially those who are struggling, hurting, or waiting for hope of their own.

Let’s not just simply move through Advent as if it were another item on the calendar. Let us enter it, let us savor it, and let us wait with hearts open to the God who still comes.

Heavenly Father, awaken my heart during this Advent season. Restore my sense of wonder. Teach me to wait with hope, to pause with purpose, and to prepare my life for Your coming. Fill my home, my family, and our world with Your peace. Amen.

AMDG 

 I always love to hear from you. You can email me by clicking here.

Please take a moment to share your thoughts about today’s message below.

Brian Pusateri
Latest posts by Brian Pusateri (see all)