For many years, I moved through the Christmas season with a growing emptiness inside. Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. The lights. The festivities. The coziness. None of that had changed, but still, I could feel the emptiness expanding, season after season, though I could never quite pinpoint its source.
Maybe it was growing up and growing out of the magical traditions of red suits and reindeer ears, nativity scenes, and the midnight masses of my childhood.
Maybe it was the slow but gradual submission to the hustle and hurry of the season—the Black Friday sales, the packed calendars, the chance to squeeze in just one more thing.
And then I discovered Advent. Before the discovery, my experience of Advent culminated in a small cardboard calendar, hanging proudly in the hallway—each flap revealing a verse, or a new nugget of the Christmas story.
As a child, it was a simple, wait-and-see ritual we practiced each morning—nothing like the Advent calendars that line the store aisles today. I remember the sweet anticipation, as though each day was part of a journey—and I became determined, as an adult, to learn to re-embrace that great expectation.
While some might say Advent is a countdown to Christmas, The Bible Project describes it as “a season that includes practices like prayer, giving to those in need, and worship (plus more, depending on the tradition). And it reminds us that we’re living during the time between Jesus’ first and second advents, leading us to lament the hardships we experience in a still-broken world, while also forming us into people who wait with longing for the renewed world to come.”
Rediscover Advent
Today, I lead over 15,000 people through a free Advent journey. It’s 25 reflective essays across 25 days. Through the writing, we learn to observe the whole season—to live inside each day with stillness and expectation—rather than wait for all the momentum to build to a single day that either meets or crushes our expectations.
I wrote the essays while pregnant with our first child. I guess you could have called it a “pregnancy project,” something to fully occupy my mind between the many doctors’ appointments and Braxton-Hicks contractions.
But really, the writing of that series changed me completely.
Turns out, Advent—learning to observe the days of Advent—this was the piece of the puzzle that had been missing the whole time.
Advent Awakens Awe
If you think you know the Christmas story, I’m daring you—come along for the ride.
I started my research assuming I knew the Christmas story. I found myself swept up into new wonder, fresh revelations, big questions, and the realization that the simple story of a baby, a manger, and some magi was far more layered and nuanced than I ever imagined. The awe was waiting for me right here—it just required me to dig beneath the surface.
The more I dug into the unassuming details that I’d read literally 100 times, or seen play out in at least a dozen pageants, the more I encountered a God who weaves wonder into every detail of the Holy Scriptures.
The Passover lambs. The magi. The temple role of Zechariah. The star in the sky.
Nothing is accidental. Nothing is ordinary. If I had to choose a single word to hold the Christmas story, it would be “behold.” Look again. Look deeper. Pay attention—there may be more here than you first noticed.
Each glinting detail, revealing a hidden gem to behold, inspires me to look at my story and ask, “What am I missing? Where am I too busy to uncover awe? Is the to-do list too long? Do I even have space to breathe, never mind breathe in the mysteries of this season?”
Advent Teaches Us To Wait
The word “Advent” comes from the Latin “adventus,” meaning “coming.”
Advent invites us to plant seeds of holy expectation in our hearts, anticipating the arrival of a child who would change the world forever.
But I think we forget, just because we’re living in the “after” of many of the events, how much waiting and silence were embedded in the story. There was a silent ache of waiting between the Old and New Testaments, as the people of God grappled with the silence of God for 400 years.
They were waiting…
Waiting on God to speak.
Waiting on a Messiah to come.
Waiting on power to shift.
We see Elizabeth and Zechariah waiting for unanswered prayers.
We see Mary and Joseph waiting for the next steps.
We see Simeon and Anna waiting for the fruition of promises.
The Posture of Waiting
The Christmas story embodies a posture we all know well—the posture of waiting. It’s a reminder to me that seasons of waiting matter. They’re meant to be treasured, not discounted, just because they’re messy or ordinary or they carry more mundanity than the mountaintop moments. We’re meant to stand in them. We’re meant to breathe through them.
Advent unlocks this idea that the waiting periods of our lives are not punishments. Nor can they be reduced to a simple “lesson to be learned.” Both ideas dismiss the beauty and benevolence of God’s character.
His ability to wait with us.
His constant kindness.
His availability within our sufferings.
So what are you waiting on, friend? Where, in life, are you stuck in the room with the buzzing fluorescent lighting and old copies of People magazine stacked on Ikea tables? Where are you longing for your name to be called?
Advent can serve as a reminder—ironically, within a season pulsing with joy and celebration—that God sees you in the waiting. He knows the groans of your heart. And he will meet you in the waiting room with His peace and presence.
Advent Draws Us Into The Practice of Presence
The ancient practitioners of Advent might describe the season as “a call to wakefulness, repentance, and hope.”
That word—wakefulness—always gets me. It’s all across the Bible, and it’s a constant reminder to me not to be lulled into the distractions but to stay awake to the present moment unfolding right now.
It’s challenging to live in the present moment. I think most of us can agree.
There’s a party tomorrow, and we need to come up with an appetizer. There’s a pageant next Friday, and a vision board to be dreamt up the moment Christmas wraps.
We live our lives in constant motion—going from one thing to the next. But the power of Advent is learning to be in the stillness and presence of the moment at hand. The holy “here and now.” The beckoning to “stay in today,” no matter what the circumstances of today may be.
Advent—rooted in ancient tradition—invites us into a posture of availability to the things of God.
Yet being truly present is more complicated than ever, with emails pouring in, texts buzzing, calendar alerts chiming, and the constant pressure to add just a little more to an already full life.
But the more I practice Advent, the more I learn to live in the grace of today. In the holy “here and now.”
In the sweet anticipation that the ordinary days must mean something.
That the seasons are shifting. That the mundane holds miracles, and new things are coming.
That God is weaving us into the folds of His greatest plan yet—“Emmanuel.”
God with us.
God for us.
God coming.
God here.
Join The Advent Series
As I step into this season, I’m craving more of what Advent offers—stillness, wonder, presence, and a chance to be reoriented toward what actually matters. And I’d love for you to join me.
I’m walking through Hannah’s Advent series this year, day by day, allowing it to slow my pace and soften my heart. If you need a grounded, meaningful way to move through December—beyond the overwhelm, the lists, the expectations—come with me. Let’s practice Advent together and breathe again. Let’s wait well.
