Advent is a season of holy tension. We look back with wonder to a manger in Bethlehem—the unlikely cradle of the King who came in humility. But we also look forward with hope to the skies, awaiting the return of the same King who will come in glory. The cradle and the coming Kingdom stand together as twin reminders: Christ has come, and Christ will come again.
The first Advent was quiet, almost hidden. While the world slept, the Savior entered through obscurity, in a feeding trough, in a forgotten town. Few were watching. Fewer were ready. And in many ways, not much has changed.
Today, our calendars fill, our minds race, and our hearts grow numb under the weight of activity. Advent’s danger is not hostility—it’s hurry. Not rejection—it’s routine. We can celebrate the nativity while missing the preparation. We can sing “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” while living as though His return is far off and unlikely. The busyness of the season can lull us into the same spiritual slumber that marked the world at His first coming.
But Advent is meant to awaken us.
It calls us to step out of the noise and remember who we are waiting for. The One who once came in weakness will come again in power. The One who was laid in a manger will sit upon a throne. The Light that broke into the darkness of Bethlehem will break through the darkness of this world once more.
The manger teaches us that God keeps His promises. The Second Coming teaches us that God will finish His plan. Together, they invite us into a posture not of frantic activity but of watchfulness—souls awake, lamps lit, hearts ready.
So the question of Advent is simple:
Are we anticipating His arrival—or have we drifted into complacency?
Are we living with expectancy, or simply trying to survive December?
This season, let every candle, every carol, every nativity scene whisper the same truth: The King has come, and the King is coming. Advent is not merely a countdown to Christmas; it is a call to awaken. To stay alert. To prepare room not only for remembering His birth but for welcoming His return.
May this Advent find us watchful, hopeful, and wide awake—awaiting His arrival with the same wonder the shepherds knew that holy night, and the same urgency Jesus calls for in every generation.
Come, Lord Jesus. We are waiting.