Hold Fast to the Promise at Advent

“I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness” (John 12:46 ESV).

I’m sure we can all agree on one thing: the past few years have been filled with darkness. Whether that darkness has entered your life in the form of job loss, financial strain, illness, violence, anxiety, or even death, it seems almost certain that we have all asked some version of the same question at some point: When will it end?

The truth is that we will not see the end of suffering and brokenness in this world until Christ comes again. But that does not mean we can’t hold fast to the promise of his return. That doesn’t mean we can’t access hope and peace and love.

During the anticipatory season of Advent, which means, quite literally, “coming,” or “visit,” we have the opportunity to enter a space of both/and. We can be both dismayed at the state of our country and of the world and we can remember that “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” (John 3:16-17 ESV). We can rest in confidence that he will not allow us to perish. If we know Christ, we are saved.

God loves us. He loved us then, and he loves us now. He loves each of us individually, as people uniquely created in his image, and he loves us collectively, as his children, his church, his bride.

How can we find rest in this truth as the world seems afire around us?

We can read Scripture–the Book of John and the Psalms are especially good medicine. We can light candles on an Advent wreath, or in any form, and watch the flames flickering, a reminder of the steadily flickering hope that dwells within us all. We can listen to and sing along to hymns of expectation. We can be like Kathleen Kelly who, in the face of a failing business, said stoutly, “Meanwhile, I’m putting up more twinkle lights.”

We can find ways to reach out to others, emulating God’s love in ways small and large. Last month, my daughters packed two shoeboxes to ship to needy girls on the other side of the world (something you can still do online), as they do most years, but it seemed ten times more important to do it this year. In the coming weeks, we will bake loads of Christmas goodies, pile them into gift bags, and drop them off on porches in order to bring a small bit of tangible love, a reminder of the promise of Christ’s coming, to people in our community, many of whom we haven’t seen in person for months.

The years when it feels least like Christmas, I’ve found, are the ones when I need to remember the promise of Christmas the most.

As I write this, my eight-year-old is sitting at the piano, playing Christmas songs in the darkness of very early morning. With each clear note of the piano that echoes through the otherwise silent house, my soul feels like it’s swelling within me:

It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old, from angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold: “Peace on the earth, good will to men, from heaven’s all-gracious King.” The world in solemn stillness lay, to hear the angels sing.

God is here. He came to earth in the form of a newborn babe, died on a cross to save the world from ruin, and he has never truly left. As long as we believe in him, his Spirit lives within us. We can hold on to the hope of his return, to the hope of eternal life with him. This world, with all its chaos, is a temporary home–a home we are called to steward, to engage with, to shepherd, to love. This is part of the both/and of the Christian life: we must live fully in the tumultuous present and yet keep our eyes on the promise of heaven, the promise that began to be fulfilled in a humble stable two thousand years ago.

There is no better time to begin than Advent.

Harmony Harkema has loved the written word for as long as she can remember. A former English teacher turned editor, she has spent the past twelve years in the publishing industry. A writer herself in the fringe hours of her working-and-homeschooling mom life, Harmony has a heart for leading and coaching aspiring writers. She is the owner of The Glorious Table and cohost and producer at The Relatable Homeschoolers podcast. Harmony lives in Michigan with her husband and two daughters. You can find her at HarmonyHarkema.com and on Instagram @harmonyharkema.

Photograph © Marek Szturc, used with permission