Pastor Tricia's Ramblings

If you’ve ever sat in a dark room long enough, you know that the longer you’re there, the more intensely you long for light. Darkness has a way of revealing what we need. It slows us down. It quiets us. It exposes what we’re carrying. And that’s exactly why Advent begins not with celebration, but with longing.

Before we rush into the familiar rhythms of Christmas—songs, lights, gatherings, gift lists—Advent invites us to start somewhere different. It begins with the ache. The waiting. The unmet places in our lives and in our world that remind us why we need a Savior in the first place.

Because the truth is, God didn’t step into a world that was already bright. He stepped into a world heavy with silence and shadow. A world desperate for hope. A people who had waited for centuries for God to speak again. Advent begins where Israel stood—between promise and fulfillment, between prophecy and reality, between what God had said and what they had yet to see.

And if we’re honest, a lot of us live in those in-between spaces too.

Advent Is for People Who Are Still Waiting

Advent isn’t for people who have everything together.

It’s for people looking for a light they can’t quite see yet.

People carrying questions into December.

People who whisper prayers because shouting feels too heavy.

People who say, “Lord, I believe… but help my unbelief.”

The first week of Advent reminds us that God’s people waited through generations of darkness:

• Slavery in Egypt
• Wilderness wandering
• Exile in Babylon
• Oppression under foreign empires
• Four hundred years of divine silence

It was into that darkness that the promise was spoken:

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light…”

— Isaiah 9:2

Not: “The people who fixed themselves.”

Not: “The people who figured it out.”

Not: “The people who finally got strong.”

The people in darkness.

Which means you don’t have to pretend you’re somewhere you’re not in order to meet God this Advent. He meets you right where you are.

Darkness Isn’t the End — It’s the Starting Point

In Scripture, darkness isn’t just the absence of light.

It’s a space God works in.

• In the beginning, God spoke into darkness.
• Abraham looked at the night sky to see God’s promise.
• Jacob wrestled through the night until the blessing came.
• Israel put the blood on their doors in the dark of Passover night.
• Jesus was resurrected before dawn on the first Easter.

God doesn’t avoid the dark.

He transforms it.

He speaks into it.

He steps into it.

And Advent says: He’s stepping in again.

Advent Helps Us Name the Longing We Usually Ignore

We’re good at pushing past our pain.

We’re good at staying busy enough not to notice our hunger for God.

We’re good at numbing instead of naming.

But Advent slows us down.

It invites us to stop pretending.

It invites us to look honestly at our lives and say:

“I’m not where I want to be…

and I’m not alone in it.”

Because the story of Jesus doesn’t begin with shepherds in a field or angels singing in the sky.

It begins with an ancient promise whispered into a world that felt forgotten:

“A child will be born for us… and His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

— Isaiah 9:6

It begins with hope that seemed too far away to touch.

What Are You Waiting for This Advent?

Maybe you’re waiting for direction.

Maybe you’re waiting for God to make sense of something that still hurts.

Maybe you’re waiting for healing, for reconciliation, for a door to open, for a prayer to be answered.

Advent says:

God sees you waiting.

God sits with you in the longing.

God is already moving toward you.

The Christmas story doesn’t begin with celebration; it begins with anticipation.

Before Jesus cried in Bethlehem, creation cried out for redemption.

And maybe that’s why this season still speaks so deeply to us—because we feel the ache too. We know what it is to wait. We know what it is to hope for something God has promised but hasn’t yet revealed.

A Simple Advent Practice for This Week

Take a quiet moment each day—just 2 or 3 minutes—and ask:

“Lord, where do You want to bring light into my life?”

Don’t force an answer.

Just open the space.

And then pray this:

“Jesus, come into the places I keep in the dark.

I am ready for Your light.”

God never wastes darkness.

He uses it to prepare us for the moment His light breaks in.

This is where Advent begins—

not in the brightness of celebration,

but in the quiet places where we wait for the One who keeps every promise.

Because the Light is coming.

And the darkness cannot overcome Him.