Advent and the Ache for Christ’s Return
I’m not a Christmas person. I rejoice at the universe-altering reality of the birth of Christ our King, but I could do without the carols and the lights.
Growing up, I felt very lonely in my Grinch-ness. Everyone around me couldn’t wait for “Noche Buena” (we call Christmas Eve “the Good Night” in Latin America). But now, an increasing number of people are simply exhausted when December comes around.
It’s not just perception: evidence suggests that for a noticeable fraction of people in Western countries, holidays have become more emotionally complex or less joyful — invoking a sense of loneliness, and for many, financial stress.
Still, many remain committed to holiday celebrations, and nothing beats a great time at the holidays. So this tension remains: we celebrate Christ’s coming, but we live in a world full of shadows. For many committed Christians, the festive spirit of the season doesn’t come naturally.
NOSTALGIA AND NEED
As I’ve done some digging in my heart, I’ve realized that many of my frustrations with Christmas come from trying to make the season do things it cannot do. Some of the films I saw as a kid were seared into my mind and made me long for realities that God didn’t design for me. Perfect families sitting at large tables with huge feasts clash with the brokenness so many of us see around us. Advent is not designed to carry the weight of our expectations, real or make believe. What it can do, though, is aim our longings in the right direction.
Isaiah 9 announces the Child who would shoulder the government of God and bring endless peace (Isaiah 9:6-7). His rule would grow, and his justice would spread forevermore. This promise began in Bethlehem and will be completed at Christ’s return.
And it is surrounded by aching:
“But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish […]
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shone.”
– Isaiah 9:1-2
Gloom, anguish, deep darkness. They might describe you, and they certainly preceded Christ’s birth. The loneliness, injustice, and groaning around us do not contradict the Christian story—it’s the reason why he came. Advent trains us to tell the truth about the world while also telling the truth about Christ’s reign: it has begun, but it has not fully materialized.
THE FIRST AND THE LAST
Expectations shape our reactions. Christians can see the valley between the peaks of Christ’s first and second coming, and understand that Advent ties suffering with hope. We remember the manger, but we anticipate the trumpet. We look back with gratitude, but we look forward with hunger.
It’s naive to only expect smiles and shalom from a season that celebrates the first coming. If we’re honest, even the best of Christmas is mixed with longings. The joy we seek is in heaven.
And he is coming back.
For Christians, there’s really no place for gloom or discouragement as we celebrate our Saviour’s birth. Death is defeated, shadows are passing, the Spirit’s being given, and darkness is being exposed. The day is coming when we will all sit at his table.
“You have multiplied the nation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.”
– Isaiah 9:3
Advent disciples us. It shapes our instincts. It teaches us to wait, to hope, to act, and to pray. There’s freedom in turning our attention outward, from our hurts and expectations to the gifts we offer others. From what we didn’t receive to what we have been given in Christ and what we can share in him.
I’m sure there are many reasons for you to feel discouraged, many things that don’t feel the way they should. But Advent is not merely a countdown to a holiday. It is a declaration: the world is broken, Christ has come, Christ will come again. Our lives, our families, and our churches are meant to lean into that promise—until the earth is filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.









