Advent: A Heart in Waiting
Bringing hope to the hurting this Advent season, His name is Jesus.
01
Inviting Healing
The Advent season can feel overwhelming for those who are grieving, feeling hopeless, or overlooked. This weekly devotion is for you.
02
Inviting Hope
Hope is a person, and His name is Jesus. You might be wondering, "But how does He bring hope?" Join me over the next four weeks for a devotional journey to discover the answer.
Week 4: Love and Rescue Plans
Read: John 1:14-17, Genesis 8:1, Galations 4:4-5
Nothing says Advent like getting lost in a mall as a kid… right?
When I was around four years old, I had my own “Kevin McCallister” moment. As the youngest of four kids, I was used to being herded along wherever my family went. Around Easter time, we were visiting a place outside Nashville, Tennessee, and decided to spend some time at the Opry Mills Mall.
While shopping, my older sister and I found ourselves in a children’s store, lounging on beanbag chairs and watching an old TV. I was likely captivated by Blue’s Clues or something similar when she told me it was time to move on to the next store. She walked out, assuming I’d follow—but I didn’t. I stayed, blissfully unaware, completely lost in the show.
I’m not sure how much time passed before I realized I was alone. The panic hit, and the tears came quickly. I bolted out of the store, desperately looking for my family, and in my confusion, I grabbed the first hand I came across. Thankfully, it belonged to a kind elderly couple who immediately brought me to mall security.
It's funny, I still remember the security guards asking me if I wanted a cookie. They were the good ones too—the classic sugar cookie with bright pink frosting. My response? “No, I don’t take food from strangers.” So, before you think poorly of my parents for losing me, know this: they did instill some solid life lessons in me first!
Another vivid memory from that day is the moment I saw my family frantically turning the corner and spotting me sitting on top of the security desk. The relief that washed over me was like nothing I’d ever felt before. In that moment, I could physically feel how much my family loved me as they scooped me up, passed me around for hugs and kisses, and held me tightly.
I was home. Even though we were nearly 500 miles from our actual house, I was back where I was meant to be—with the people I was meant to be with.
That feeling—being found, being loved, being home (away from home)— is the heart of Advent. It’s the season where we remember that Christ came to bring us back to Himself. No matter how lost we feel, He’s always seeking us, always ready to bring us back where we belong: in His love.
This is the depth of His love: “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14). The King of the World left His throne to make Himself breakable and vulnerable to the very world He created, because only by doing so could He heal the brokenness in us.
The story of Christmas is far more than a tale of a baby born in Bethlehem. It’s the unfolding of a divine rescue plan, one written before the foundations of the world. He didn’t merely foresee humanity’s fall; He lovingly planned our restoration. Long before the stars were placed in the heavens, before humanity stumbled in the garden, God knew. Before time began, He chose to step into our brokenness, to wear our frailty, and to take on our sin.
This act of love was not reactionary; it was proactive. Unlike my parents that day in 2004, God knew that we would be lost and in need of saving. Through the flood, He saw our need for salvation: “But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and the livestock that were with him in the ark” (Genesis 8:1). Through the sacrifices, the laws, and the rituals, He prepared us for His ultimate gift that would fulfill what we would fall short in: “The law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (John 1:17). Every step of history, every prophet’s voice, every king’s reign, every miracle pointed to one moment—the coming of Christ.
As we go through the last week of Advent, let us reflect on the magnitude of God’s love. It is in His great mercy and love for us that He provided a way for us to return to Him: “But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship” (Galatians 4:4-5).
So, as you see the lights, hear the carols, exchange gifts over the next few days, and gather with loved ones, remember this: the greatest gift you have ever received did not come wrapped in a bow under your Christmas tree but rather in dirty cloths, lying in a manger. The perfect child, the perfect sacrifice. One born to die for us. Weird, isn’t it? A love so unfathomable, so vast, that it spanned eternity to meet us in our need. This is the reason for the season—a love so pure and sacrificial that it willingly bore the weight of our brokenness to bring us home. May that love fill your heart this season and beyond.
Prayer: Lord, thank You for loving us with a love so vast that You would step down into our brokenness to bring us back to You. As we reflect on the miracle of Advent, fill our hearts with the wonder of Your rescue plan. May we never forget the depth of Your love and the lengths You went to make us Yours. Help us to share that love with others this season and always. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
I have truly enjoyed sharing these devotionals with you over the past four weeks. Thank you for journeying through Advent with me! Stick around for one more bonus week as we step into the New Year together. Let’s reflect on the hope and promises God has for us in the year to come!
Love,
Monica
Week 3: Joy in the Journey
- Read: Micah 5:2, Isaiah 7:14, Luke 1: 38, Matthew 2:13-23 I’m going to be extremely real with you today. This week’s topic is joy, and honestly, this morning I wasn’t feeling particularly joyful. A few days ago, a patient of mine encouraged me to visit her church. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but I shared the story with my Bible study group that evening. One of my friends mentioned she also attends that church, so I decided to look it up. Lo and behold, it was a church I had been wanting to visit for a long time—mostly because I have friends who go there and rave about the services, but the drive was always just too far. However, my patient mentioned that they had opened a new campus just 15 minutes from me, and I knew I had to try it. I spent the week eagerly anticipating my visit. Now, you might be thinking, Why am I telling you all this? Here’s why: I’m in what I’ve started calling my “Nomad Era” when it comes to church. For over three years, I was deeply rooted in my previous church, serving in every area I could, surrounded by my very best friends and family. But when God says go, you go—even when it is not easy. And let me tell you, following God's lead isn’t always an easy journey. More often than not, obedience is the most challenging route (but it leads to the greatest reward). I’ve sat in unfamiliar churches, longing for the comfort of my old community, crying out to God, “Can I just go back home?” The Christmas season has always been marked by special moments with church—Christmas volunteer parties, shopping for Operation Christmas Child boxes, praying for one another, laughing, and sharing Christmas plans after services, and anticipating the candlelight Christmas Eve service together. But this year, here I am, spiritually homeless just ten days before Christmas, and after attending the church I had been excited to visit all week, I found myself sitting in the parking lot wiping away tears. It wasn’t what I had envisioned. I thought it would be perfect, but instead, it reminded me that sometimes (a lot of times) God’s will is different than our plans and expectations. This brings me to the Advent story of Mary. I imagine Mary had her own plans for her life. Becoming the virgin mother of the Son of God was probably not on her list. Yet, when the angel appeared with this extraordinary message, I love her response in Luke 1:38: “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.” What strikes me most about Mary’s response is how quickly she came into agreement with God’s will for her life. There was no hesitation, no arguing, no wrestling with the plan. She didn’t know all the details or what the future would hold, but she trusted God’s purpose for her. This challenges me deeply—Mary’s unwavering willingness to submit to God’s call leaves me in awe. It’s incredible to think that God had been preparing her heart her entire life for this moment, for this purpose to be fulfilled through her. But even though she accepted the call, Mary's journey was far from easy. Surely there were people who didn’t understand, or believe, the assignment on her life. She was young, unmarried, and pregnant under (let’s be real) unbelievable circumstances. The whispers must have been cruel. People likely called her all sorts of names, judged her character, and threatened to ruin both her reputation and her family’s. Yet, despite everything, Mary chose to walk in faithful obedience. Now, talk about being in a “Nomad Era” at the absolute worst time possible! Mary is about to give birth to the promised Messiah when Caesar Augustus decrees a census of the whole Roman world, requiring everyone to return to the city of their heritage. Joseph, being in the line of David, had to go to Bethlehem. The problem was that Bethlehem happened to be 90 miles away and Mary was about 90 minutes from delivering a baby (jk not that close, but still!). But when God says go, you go. They probably anticipated that since God was the author of this promise, He would open doors for them to find a comfortable place to bring this precious baby into the world… NOPE. After a 90-mile trek on a donkey, 9 months pregnant, there was no room for them at the inn, and the baby was born in a barn. The King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the MESSIAH was born in the humblest abode. The accommodations were anything but what they had expected. Now they would finally be able to rest and enjoy their new baby, right? NOPE. King Herod, jealous of the newborn King of the Jews who was being worshipped, sent out a decree to kill all the male children born around the time of Jesus in Bethlehem. Joseph, Mary, and Jesus were now on the run to Egypt. I imagine Mary, exhausted and overwhelmed, must have cried out a few times herself, "Can I just go back home?" Think about it though: they HAD to go through these hardships for the prophecy to be fulfilled. What seemed like inconveniences were really divinely orchestrated events:
- - Born of a virgin: “Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and will call Him Emmanuel.” (Isaiah 7:14) - Born in Bethlehem: “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from old, from ancient times.” (Micah 5:2) - The Messiah would be called out of Egypt: "When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son." (Hosea 11:1)
- - Loss of babies' lives: "A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more." (Jeremiah 31:15) If Mary’s assignment came straight from an angel with a very clear message and it still wasn’t easy or comfortable, why do I expect my story to be any different? Maybe what I view as inconveniences and unmet expectations in my own life are actually divinely orchestrated events that God is using to guide me exactly where He wants me (and you). Regardless, I want to respond like Mary: “Let it be done to me as you have said.” God called her to something extraordinary, something completely outside of her comfort zone. She had to leave her actual home, travel long distances, and face the unknown with nothing but faith in God’s promise. She wasn’t in a comfortable position, yet she made the choice to move forward in joy, trusting that God would provide along the way. Whether it’s a new church, a new season of life, or an unexpected trial, we often find ourselves in situations that aren’t easy or what we had hoped for. But we can choose to trust God in the midst of our wilderness. We can choose joy, not because everything is perfect, but because we know that the perfect God is leading us. I may not have found my new church this week, but I was reminded that God meets me wherever I am. This Advent, let’s remember that joy doesn’t always come in the form we expect. Sometimes, it comes in the journey itself. Just like Mary had to step out in faith and embrace the unknown, we can choose joy, even when we’re walking through a season of uncertainty. God is with us, guiding us, and He will never leave us. That’s reason enough to feel joy this Christmas season. Prayer: Lord, thank You for being with us in the wilderness, in the uncertain and difficult seasons of life. Help us to trust You more deeply, and to choose joy, not because of perfect circumstances, but because You are with us every step of the way. Just as Mary chose to trust You, even in the unknown, help us to do the same. May we find joy in Your presence, in every trial, and in every season. Amen.
- Love,
- Monica
Week 2: The Peace of His Presence
Read: Isaiah 26:3, Isaiah 9:6, and John 14:27
If you've watched The Chosen, you are likely familiar with the term Shalom, a common greeting used throughout the series. In Hebrew, Shalom means "peace," but it encompasses much more than just the absence of conflict. It signifies wholeness, completeness, well-being, and harmony in every area of life.
When the Hebrew people greeted one another with Shalom, it wasn’t just a polite wish for a good day. It was a deep blessing, a prayer that God's peace would rest upon every person they greeted. This peace wasn't merely external; it was internal—a restoration of brokenness and an invitation into God’s presence where hearts could find rest. So the phrase Shalom-Shalom, often used in the Bible, doesn’t mean "a double portion" of peace but rather signifies perfect peace. It's as if the speaker is saying, "May the completeness and wholeness of God's peace fill every part of you, restoring all things to the way they were meant to be."
I don't know about you, but I certainly need Shalom-Shalom in my life. This Advent season, as we prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ, we are invited not only to reflect on the joy and hope He brings but also on the peace He offers. Real peace—true, lasting peace—often seems impossible in a world marked by turmoil, uncertainty, and stress. We usually think of peace as the absence of conflict or the quieting of external storms. Yet the peace Jesus offers does not come from the absence of difficulties, but from the presence of God in the midst of them.
But HOW do we get this peace? Isaiah 26:3 tells us that peace is not a fleeting emotion or a temporary calm, but a steadying force that comes when we place our trust in God: "You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you." There is that phrase of perfect peace again, but with the truth that this peace is not dependent on our circumstances but on the unshakable trust we place in the one who is always with us—Emmanuel. It is the peace that flows from knowing that God is present in every moment, that His love is unchanging, and His sovereignty over all things is certain.
As we wait for Jesus’ return and celebrate His birth, we are reminded that Jesus Himself is our Shalom. In Isaiah 9:6, He is called the "Prince of Peace"—Sar Shalom—indicating that He is not only the giver of peace but the very embodiment of it. Jesus came to restore peace between us and God (Romans 5:1) and between us and one another (Ephesians 2:14). Through His birth, life, and death on the cross, He offers the wholeness and healing that Shalom promises.
This Shalom is not elusive, nor just something we wait for in the future; it is something we can experience today, as we trust in the presence of Jesus in our lives. We can experience the peace of His presence in every mundane moment leading up to Christmas. In John 14:27, Jesus says, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." Jesus offers us a peace that transcends our circumstances—perfect peace, even in the midst of a chaotic and broken world. His peace restores, renews, and makes us whole. As we await His return, may our hearts be anchored in the perfect peace He brings. Let His Shalom fill us to overflowing, and may it shine through us to a world longing for peace.
Ask yourself: Where are you seeking peace? Are you searching for peace in the absence of challenges, or in the presence of the one who holds all things together? Take time today to invite God’s peace into the areas of your life where you feel unsettled or anxious. Trust that as you focus on Him, He will give you perfect peace in His presence.
Prayer:
Prince of Peace, we thank You that in the midst of life's storms, You are with us. Help us to trust in Your presence and find peace not in the absence of problems, but in the certainty of Your love. As we prepare our hearts for Christmas, fill us with Your peace that surpasses all understanding and let us point others to the God that offers us this peace. Amen.
Love,
Monica
Week 1: Hungry for Hope
Read Isaiah 9:6-7, Luke 2: 1-21
Advent is a season of anticipation, a time of waiting, of hoping. We are looking forward to the coming—the birth—of the Messiah. But how many of you know that waiting is hard? Maybe you thought by this year you would be married, by this year you would have a baby, by this year your heart wouldn’t be hurting, by this year you would have a new job, by this year that relationship would be reconciled, by this year your situation would be different. Many of us are longing for something we have all but lost hope for, and perhaps it feels hard to participate in a season that requires more waiting when you’ve already been waiting all year.
The good news is that Jesus doesn’t come for our pretending. He doesn’t ask us to show up with everything figured out or even to hide our pain and disappointment. You don’t have to just “be fine” to enter into His presence. But I also urge you not to throw away this season because there is so much beauty in it. There is deep meaning in the tension of longing and hoping, in the space between the promises made and the promises fulfilled.
Advent has a way of revealing the empty places in our lives, and I believe this is no accident. The birth of Jesus, the Messiah, in a lowly manger in Bethlehem is full of purpose. Bethlehem itself means “House of Bread.” Isn’t that just like God? He knew that the greatest gift ever given—His Son—would satisfy us in a way nothing else ever could.
There’s another "coincidence" (which I believe is no coincidence at all): Jesus, the Bread of Life, was placed in a manger—a feeding trough actually. He entered the world in a feeding trough, and He left (but remains today) as the Bread of Life. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” (John 6:35) You can spend the entire Christmas season rushing to find the perfect gifts, admiring the lights, or spending too much on holiday decorations... but what you might truly be hungry for is peace, joy, love, and purpose. And it’s Jesus alone who can fulfill all of these desires.
One of the most powerful, yet often overlooked, verses in the Bible is the shortest: “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35). Jesus wept for His friend Lazarus, even though He knew that He was about to raise him from the dead. He wept, not because He lacked faith, but because He felt the weight of the grief, the sorrow, and the loss. He grieved with those who grieved, even with the truth and knowledge that life would come again.
In this, Jesus shows us that there can be grief and hope, tension and surrender. The beauty of Advent is that we can hold both in the same moment. We are invited to bring our full selves—our disappointments, our unfulfilled longings, and our weary hearts—before the God who knows what it’s like to wait. And we are invited to wait in hope, knowing that He is with us in the waiting, and that He will meet us with joy on the other side.
So if you’re tired of waiting, if you feel like you’ve been waiting forever for something to change or be fulfilled, remember that Jesus weeps with you. He understands, even when it feels like no one else does. But He also invites you to hold on to the hope that in His time, He will make all things new. The same way He miraculously came before, He promises to return. Let us look forward not only to this Advent season, but for His second coming for us. There is so much hope to behold that He is preparing a place for us in Heaven, our name is written on the book of life, and that there is MORE. This is not all that there is for us, in fact, this is just the beginning.
Prayer: Lord, we bring our full selves to You today—our disappointments, our grief, our unmet expectations, and our weary hearts. We confess that we’ve often sought to fill our hunger with things that cannot satisfy. We’ve rushed through this season, focusing on the outward trappings of Christmas, all the while missing the deep, soul-satisfying peace, joy, love, and purpose You offer. Teach us to wait with anticipation, not just for the celebration of Your birth, but for the ultimate fulfillment of Your promise to return again. May we not miss the beauty of this season, knowing that You are Emmanuel—God with us. In your precious name, we pray, Amen.
Love,
Monica