Advent: December 1

Every single year, I am reminded of how deeply I need the hope of Advent. And this year, even with the most precious, long-awaited gift of our baby girl, I have still never needed the hope of Advent more.

I needed the hope of Advent when I left her alone with my husband for the first time so I could get a haircut and broke out in hives (I wish I were kidding). I needed the hope of Advent during those early sleepless nights. I needed the hope of Advent during the nighttime coughing fits from RSV and croup. I DEFINITELY needed the hope of Advent when I dropped her off at Mom's Day Out for the first time. I needed the hope of Advent when I compared myself to the moms who always took their monthly milestone pictures on time, who knew how to do crafts with their kids (we all have our strengths), and who never let the laundry basket overflow .

From years of waiting for a baby to even the absolute best year of welcoming this beloved baby, the past few years have repeatedly shown me that there is no better news than the coming of Christ. Advent gives us hope for days with no tragedy and no pain, the hope of reuniting with the babies we never got to hold and the loved ones we greatly miss, and the hope of no phone calls with bad news. At the same time, Advent gives us hope for days that surpass our very best: for days even better than when we hold our long-awaited baby for the first time, see that baby giggle, and hear that little voice say, "Mama!"

Only a year filled with so much joy after a couple years filled with so much heartache could have taught me of the deep gift of Advent. Christ's coming gives us hope for the worst days, the best days, and every single day in between. This is not just good news for December days when halls are decked and garland is hung, but for every second in the life of a believer: because Advent means that Jesus is with us.

Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel (which means, God with us). – Matthew 1:23

Tim Keller said, "The doctrine is this: God comes in. He comes incarnate, he comes in our flesh. He comes into our humanity, into our vulnerability, into our history, into our reality. God comes in.” This is the great news of Advent, the ultimate thrill of hope: that God is with us.

He is with us when we mourn. He is with us when we fear losing our greatest gifts. He is with us when we feel confused. He is with us when we rejoice. He is with us on the days when we just long for heaven.

Advent isn't just hope for Christmas morning. It wasn't just hope for Bethlehem. It's hope for today and for tomorrow. It's hope for the expectant mom, it's hope for the mom weary from chasing that precious baby all day, it's hope for the empty nester, and it's hope for the one longing to be a mom. It's hope for the overworked, the unemployed, and the one praying for a new job. It's hope for the one feeling merry and the one desperately longing to be married and the one whose marriage is hanging by a thread. Why is that? Because He is with us.

The story of Advent ended neither in a manger nor on a cross. It does not start on December 1st and draw to a close when the Christmas decor ascends to the attic. On our best days, on our worst days, and every day in between, Advent reminds us of the thrill of hope that only Christ could bring. There's no greater gift this Advent than the hope of all of our days being redeemed.

He has come, He is coming again, and in the meantime, He is with us!