I often reflect on the wonder I felt during the Christmas season as a child. I long for Christmas Eve’s giddy anticipation, obsessing about the next morning. I long to embrace the rush of moving quickly through the mall, hunting for that last gift before stores closed. I long to delight in sleeping on a pullout office chair because that means the house is bursting at the seams. I long for peace, wonder, and delight.
But I also long for naivete about stress, obliviousness to family dynamics, delight in chaos, and a willingness to exchange some comfort for company. Advent remains a special time of nostalgia, fond memories, and cheer, but for many of us, it is also the doorway to a fraught, blue, complicated Christmas.
It is a busy time. There are lights to hang (and untangle), a tree to decorate, party after party to attend, a gift list to check off, worries about who will misbehave at family gatherings, and an increasingly urgent wish for just a bit of quiet.
If I linger here too long, peace, wonder, and delight disappear, and I end up waiting with disappointment. I’m not good at ignoring stress and dysfunctional relational patterns. When overwhelm and discomfort set in, irritability soon follows. Maybe you can relate.
A part of each of us groans at Christmas messages like “All as it should be!” and “Merry and bright!” We’re acutely aware that things are not as they should be. When faced with a wall of grinning Christmas cards with happy messages, it is easy to feel shame over being grumpy rather than merry and lackluster instead of bright.
If you tend to miss Advent while longing for the past or relief from toil and moil, welcome. You’re not alone.
There Is Another Way than Worry
There’s another way besides drowning our longings and our stresses in holiday libations, gobs of gifts, or shame over scarcity. We don’t have to crawl across the finish line of our capacity (and bank accounts) feeling depleted and disconnected. We don’t have to spend the season Bah-humbugging Christmas messages of “Merry and Bright!”
What if the Lord was using all those stressors for our good? What if even in the middle of the hustle and bustle, an important process was unfolding? What would it mean to lean into Advent with eager expectation that we might actually prepare Him room this year?
I’ve always loved that line of Joy to the World that says “Prepare Him room.” It harkens back to ideas of hospitality, of readying a home for visitors.
In our family, before house guests arrive, we climb the steep steps to the garrett numerous times to strip the bed, wash the sheets, remake the bed, vacuum, straighten again, open curtains, turn on lamps, fluff pillows, check the thermostat, and so on. Much like our preparation for guests, we Christians are to prepare our Heavenly Father’s dwelling place among men. And, while we wait on His return, we take this time to tidy up our hearts for His dwelling place. We would not expect guests to sleep in a filthy place covered in trash, so cluttered they couldn’t walk or relax.
In an ideal season, Advent allows time to practice reclaiming our heart’s real estate from unhelpful garbage, spending time decluttering and cleaning. It is a time to refocus our attention on the gift of Jesus. Through Him, we have access to what we long for at our core: hope, faith, joy, and peace.
Jesus Changes the Meaning and Experience of Advent
Because Jesus took on human flesh and He’s coming again, we can lift our chins and lean into the ache of this season. To taste hope, faith, joy, and peace found in Jesus this season, we don’t necessarily have to reinvent the wheel, wake up two hours early every day, or add more to our unending to-do lists. We have plenty in place already: our humanity and Immanuel, God with us.
Prayer is one way to turn the stressors of the season into a God-guided process of revealing Christ in the midst of Advent, which is what the season is all about.
In order to help make the most of this Advent season, I’ve added a few “mini-liturgies” below. Each one is paired with one of those troubles that can crowd our brains during Advent.
My hope is that you will use these short prayers during those moments when these worries snag your heart, trigger a shame spiral, or send you into stress or disappointment. May you see those moments as the Lord’s invitation to know Him better as you celebrate is first coming and wait on his return.
Mini-Liturgies for the Stresses of Advent Season
Facing dread of the holidays: Lord Jesus, I do not feel hope rise within me. I feel left behind by those whose eyes are lifted and run without growing weary. I feel exhausted, full of dread, and avoidant. Holy Spirit, comfort me. Jesus, encourage me that even you knew dread in Gethsemane and have not left me behind. You receive me as I am. Carry me this day. Let me place tomorrow at your feet. Renew my strength and give the the mercy of joy and peace. Amen.
Feeling overwhelmed by everything: Lord Jesus, my soul is troubled and my thoughts race. I feel the weight of the calendar, to-do lists, financial burden and people to remember. Will you comfort me in knowing that I am not enough and you are. Through my overwhelm, please lead me to the rock that is higher than I. Amen
Suffering loss: Heavenly Father, I feel alone in a desolate place. You know loss acutely and intimately. Comfort me with the knowledge that I am not alone in this pain. Lift my chin, reminding me that loss does not have the final say but will one day see its end. Comfort me with the awareness that another Advent season has arrived, not by the power of the calendar, but by the power of your mighty hand. Your mighty hand will one day fully restore order fully. Please help me wait well and allow your presence to be a balm to this sting. Amen.
Facing scarcity: Gracious Father, my insides are twisted and fraught as I consistently feel the finiteness of resources. Time, money, attention and even myself are running dry. It is hard to delight in this season when I feel burdened by the weight of not-enoughness. Spring up peace and joy in the knowledge that I have your very life which will never run dry. Let me wonder about your purposes for these little loaves and fishes. Let me know your abundance all the more in and through emptiness. Amen
For those feeling grumpy and irritable: Heavenly Father, my soul is disquieted within me. My soul goes numb and I grumble at others. I lack warmth in my heart and a twinkle in my eye and that is sometimes most bothersome to those closest to me. Will you impart your delight, playfulness, and joy. Show me times I can choose to lay my tired head on your breast. Soothe me with your presence. I cannot muster joy myself but in your presence, Father, there is fullness and pleasures forevermore. Amen.
For those facing difficult family dynamics: Heavenly Father, I feel alone in a room full of people. The distance, conflict and brokenness seem to reign when we gather together. I ache for connection while the revolving door of disappointment spins perpetually. Jesus, remind me that you know rejection, being misunderstood and left alone. Father, draw me near. Give me satisfaction in knowing you and knowing you chose me. Give me wisdom to know when to speak and when to be quiet. Quench my thirst with your friendship, sister/brotherhood, and being fully known by you. Give me hope that one day, we will have unbridled harmony and connection with one another and you. Amen.
For those feeling embarrassed during the holidays: Lord, I am tired of obsessing over parts of life: my home, my behaviors, my family’s behavior, my appearance, my performance, my ability to wow others with gifts… the list doesn’t end. I feel ashamed that I suffer from vanity. Please dazzle me with your glory, remind me that you smile on the poor woman’s pennies, and that my best efforts need your covering. Form your image in me and deliver me from the crushing weight of image-management. Humble me gently so that I may pant not after empty praise but your return. Amen.
For those who lack hope: Lord Jesus, I do not feel sure of things hoped for or certain of what I do not see. I am tired of waiting, tired of crying and tired of being tired. I feel troubled when I think about tomorrow. I feel misplaced in a season of merriment. Show me that our hopelessness is the very reason you came to Earth. Holy Spirit, renew my hope with your presence. Jesus, your birth is the promise of deliverance from all pain and suffering. Lift my eyes and give me hope in your return. Help me to wait well and keep me awake to today’s glimpse of the eternal joy that is to come. Amen.
Our brother, Paul, speaks of his own unrelenting struggle saying, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that lthe power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9b-10) Honestly, these words nettle me. And they offer hope, for in the words of Elisabeth Elliot, “suffering is never for nothing.” A pastor, Covenant professor recently shared that the word “rest” in this passage means “dwell” or “tabernacle”. This means that our weakness is the very place where we know Christ’s presence intimately. Let’s follow our struggles, insufficiency, and aches like a trail of breadcrumbs to His feet.
As you light the Advent candles this season and take inventory of the highs and lows it brings, as you confront the dark corners of your soul and feel the end of yourself, may you find Jesus in those places. Our darkest, dustiest, most lifeless insides sparkle in His light. Let’s practice waiting on the day when we will see it with our own eyes. While we wait, let’s put on the bells and whistles. He has come and is coming back!