The other night at my prayer group we went around the circle and shared about the family situations we were going home to for the holidays. Unsurprisingly, no one’s Christmas was shaping up to be ideal. We spilled out disappointments and old hurts and obligatory visits that prickle our spines with dread. And as I thought about this tension, about the wide gap between what is and what we feel ought to be, I thought of how I learned that Advent is not just remembering how the world waited for the coming of the Messiah, but how we still wait for His coming. It is a time to embrace the ache of our lovesick hearts, to rejoice in our hunger pains, to survey the broken mess of our world and know that, because God fully entered into it, He will also fully redeem it.
