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Advent Devotional
Isaiah 41:4 Who has performed and done this, calling the generations from the beginning? I, the Lord, am first and will be with the last.
“Jesus, Aristotle, and a Teenage Linebacker walk up to a concession stand…” [We interrupt this story to squeeze in a devotional.] Advent is linked to the calendar, to light, to discovery, and to rejoicing with the God that is always with us.
This Fall, I failed retirement and started teaching at Alpha Omega Academy, a Christian K-12 school in Huntsville. I love my new job and everyone there, and know I am blessed to have this new chapter in my life.
“Alpha” tries to teach in a classical mode, which can include sports. Thus, when the student-athletes don’t fully focus on the rhetoric assignments I give them, I try to use analogies from their lives.
My options run from A to Z. When people ask: “What does ‘Alpha Omega’ mean?” I say it is the first and last letter of the Greek Alphabet, and a rhetorically stylish way to speak of an eternal God. Revelation 22:13 uses the phrase: “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”
John, the author of Revelation, found a timeless concept from the Old Testament and rephrased it for new audiences. It is not just in Isaiah 41:4 that we hear God speaking of himself as the first and the last. Genesis places God as the source of creation, and Moses’ song of farewell in Deuteronomy reiterates that God lives forever. To John, God is not just the first word and the last word, but even the first and the last letters of the alphabets of the words. Not just the Alef and Taw of Hebrew, but the Alpha and Omega of Greek, and even the “eh” and “zed” of Canadian English.
Physicist Carlo Rovelli points out that we just don’t have the grammar, in any language, to fully describe the time-space continuum of the universe. He says that “time” is a human construct anyway (we are chronologically challenged). He thinks that the thoughts of scientists and of poets should be considered together more often. While a “serene atheist,” Rovelli is a bit like John and Isaiah in searching for new ways to consider eternal truths and for new ways to present them to new audiences. It seems that time is a human struggle rather than a religious one. We rhetoric teachers love it when people read the room and find new ways to say truths.
Another scientist, Rosalind Picard, had a thought about this: “We may be better informed, moral, and right than our ancestors, but the species is still imperfect. The SIGIBOPU (Something Incredibly Grand, Incomprehensible, and Beyond Our Present Understanding) is a better aspiration than ourselves.”
Now back again to the story at the concession stand: Jesus, Aristotle, and a Teenage Linebacker all arrive with advanced communication skills. One wants our hearts, another wants our minds, and the third wants a corndog and a Dr. Pepper, because they assuredly exist in time and space, at least for the moment. Next time he’ll adapt his narrative and ask for Frito pie. In every season, in every age, in every light, in every journey, and in every joy, may you discover the eternal God. This transcends.
Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, 2 but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. 3 He is the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high.
Reflection:
This past fall I took my oldest daughter to obtain her learners permit at the DMV. Upon reviewing her picture, I could not help but notice how much we looked similar in our driver license photos. While it is not surprising that a child would look like their parent, such apparent similarities are typically reserved for my wife and oldest daughter; most recently being asked if they were sisters to my wife’s amusement. Yet, in this particular instance, I could see my own reflection in my daughter’s face which came as a delightful surprise.
When the writer of Hebrews introduces Christ, we are told he is the one for whom the prophets had spoken promises about for centuries, the one through whom the world was created and sustained. Christ Jesus comes into this world as the Son of God reflecting the glory of God and presenting as the exact imprint or representation of God the Father. This Christ is to rightly then be worshiped and honored as God Himself without fear or reservation of His being anything less than the real deal. We find at the Transfiguration where Christ is pronounced by God the Father as his beloved son with whom he is pleased. Therefore Christians have looked upon Christ as the embodiment and manifestation of our eternal God in a form and fashion we can know ourselves.
And yet in all my encounters with Christ, I must agree with E. Stanley Jones who wrote, “We know now that God is like this that we have seen in Jesus. He is Christlike. And if he is, he is a good God and trustable. If the Heart that is back of the universe is like this Gentle Heart that broke upon the cross, he can have my heart without qualification and without reservation…Strange, a Man lived among us, and when we think of God we must think of him in terms of this Man.”
The Incarnation continues as God’s ultimate reveal and to be Christlike remains the highest description of character, whether it be for God or any of us. As Advent prepares us for the coming of Christ, may we reflect upon the idea that to know the Son is to know the Father, we can trust that when we look to Christ, we have set our sights on nothing less than the fullness of God Almighty.
Prayer: Merciful God, you sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation. Give us grace to hear their words that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer. Amen.
Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
Reflection:
Prevenient grace is the grace that goes before us. It is the loving initiative of God that stirs and draws us toward Him long before we ever think to seek Him. This persistent movement of God’s heart toward us precedes our decisions, our awareness, and even our existence. “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so”—yet even as I sang it, I thought His love was something I could somehow earn by being good enough or faithful enough. I believed that following Jesus was about my choices and devotion and that the turning of my heart was a sign of my own sincerity or effort. I assumed that whatever faith I had came from within me. I didn’t even know when that love had begun. When did it start? At what moment did God decide to love me?
As temporal beings, that question makes sense. We exist in time, thinking in beginnings and endings. To us, love starts somewhere and grows from something, whether it’s an interaction, a memory, or a choice. But God is not bound to time. He is not shaped by minutes and years. God transcends time and space, and He is the One who simply is: Beginning and Eternity, Alpha and Omega. For us, love has a starting point. For God, love simply is.
And this is where prevenient grace becomes breathtaking. We ask why God loves us, often imagining God as though He were our equal, as if He responds to us the way another human might. Yet, God is not our equal but our Creator. All things came into existence by His breath. Every heartbeat is His gift, and every moment is held in His sustaining will. It is the unfathomable outpouring of God’s own eternal nature. It is self-originating, uncreated, and immutable. God does not love us because of what we do. God loves because God is love
Christ took on flesh so we could see the heart of God revealed in a life poured out. Through Jesus, we witness the character of God expressed not only in words, but in a way that draws us into the very life of divine love. In this beautiful closeness, we remember that the One who calls us friend is also the One who spoke galaxies into being. His love is foundational, and it precedes our questions and existence. It is His prevenient grace that was reaching out before we were even aware of it.
So when did His love begin? From our perspective, He loved us, is loving us, and will love us. But from God’s perspective, love has no tense. It is not the past or future. It is the eternal “now” of God’s being. And in that love, we find our dwelling place. May this truth humble our hearts and lift our praise. For all that we are, and all the grace that has ever carried us, belongs to God alone. To Him be all the glory.
Prayer:
Father God, we thank you for this day and every day. Thank You for the grace that reached for us long before we ever knew to seek You. Teach us to rest in the depth of Your eternal love, and let us be free from striving or fear. May our life reflect Your glory as we walk in the confidence of being held by You from beginning to eternity. We pray in the mighty name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through Him, and without Him was not any thing made that was made.
Reflection
The age-old question has emerged yet again and reached no consensus: when should we begin decorating for Christmas and listening to Christmas music? At this point, the decorations are either up or in the process of being put up and the music is playing constantly, so the question doesn’t really matter. But still we should consider beginnings, for in this season of Advent we remember and await the beginning of something new. And no, I’m not talking about the beginning of the end-of-year deals online.
In the beginning was the Word, and that same Word is our Beginning. When God spoke creation into being, He was the beginning of this universe and all of us within it. When the Word took on flesh and came to dwell with us, He was the beginning of a new covenant and hope. When Jesus was crucified in our place on Calvary’s mount, He began a new work within our hearts. When Christ rose and sent His Spirit down to us in the fires of Pentecost, He began a new creation out of what was dead in sin. We can work through the whole liturgical calendar and even further just looking for all the ways Christ is our blessed Beginning. So where do we even begin to worship Him today?
You may have begun your Christmas celebration three days ago, or you may be going three years strong with an artificial tree in your living room; as Christians we are always a Christmas people as we share our joy with the world. Jesus came down to earth to be our Emmanuel, God with us, and that didn’t just happen once for us to remember once a year on a holiday; He is always with us through His Spirit, and He will come again soon! As we bustle through the broken ornaments and travel plans of the holiday season, He’s right there with us for every step, joyful and stressful. As we slog through the mundane days of the rest of the year, He’s there too, just as close. As Christmas people, we don’t just remember the Beginning of our hope once a year; we get to joyfully live out the new life Christ has begun in us every single moment. Our joy doesn’t stay confined to a day or a season; it rests in the new beginning that Christ gives all of us each day to dwell in His presence and become more like Him.
So where do we begin? Right where you are, each and every day you have in this life under the sun! Every Advent we celebrate the Beginning; the beginning of a new covenant, a new life, and a new hope. We celebrate Jesus, who is that Beginning; who is the Word; who is Emmanuel. So as we journey through this season again, let us rejoice in the beginning of a new life with Christ each day! Let us rejoice that the One who began all things is the One working within our hearts! Let us rejoice that God came down to earth to be with us as He began something new. Let us rejoice in what Christmas really means.
Prayer
Almighty God, you who began all things and hold all things together, thank you for your gift of ongoing creation. Lord Jesus, we pray for the strength and wisdom to dwell in your Word and presence each day, that we may rest in the joy and assurance of how you are continuing to shape our lives. Embolden us, we pray, to proclaim your goodness to all the world and reflect your joy to all we meet this Advent. In Christ’s name we pray, Amen.
26 In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, 27 to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. 28 Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!”
Reflection:
Advent tends to put me in a spot of deep reflection. Well, maybe not deep, but it certainly gets my wheels turning. This particular Advent season, I’ve been thinking a lot about the annunciation. Which turns into thinking about announcements. Which turns into thinking about milestones. Which turns into thinking about how many moments are actually beginnings.
The annunciation is a form of a “beginning” for Mary. The news that the angel Gabriel brings is not just a save the date to add to the calendar. It’s a notification that life is about to change forever. It’s the moment where the Creator of the Universe chooses a simple, small town girl to do something new—not just for her but for all of us.
When we read the story of Gabriel, we often imagine what it would be like to be Mary in that moment. Maybe there’s fear, or excitement, or trust, or all of the above. But we don’t have to be Mary in order for this annunciation to belong to us, because Gabriel is not just speaking to Mary. Through time, through all the generations of people who have held this story as sacred, this annunciation is for us, too. The news that changes Mary’s life also changes our lives. Two thousand-ish years ago, long before all of us reading this existed, God created a new beginning for me and you. The God who does not follow the rules of time still steps into ours, always, always, always doing something new.
Prayer:
God of beginnings, you have graciously stepped into our time, doing and working the unimaginable within us. Open our hearts this season to the beginnings you are stirring up in our lives. Amen.
For it is the God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.
Reflection:
My son’s homeschool class recently went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston. As we moved through the galleries, a friend asked if I had seen the painting Saint Paul Writing His Epistles. I had, but her complete awe told me I had passed it by too quickly. I immediately went weaving back through the galleries to see what I missed. Again, I noticed Paul at work writing, leaned over his table in a dark room, but then I saw it. The reflection shining up from the tabletop was not Paul’s face at all; it was the face of Christ crowned with thorns.
It’s a wonder. A canvas painted, then twice repainted, has given up its secret over 400 years: the mocking of Christ has risen to the surface. It isn’t distracting or hidden. It is near the center, exactly where a glance might mistake it for Paul’s own reflection. Though one could imagine the artist intentionally invoking Paul’s words, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me,” imaging revealed a more humble cause. Through pentimento, the degradation of pigments over time, the face of Christ emerged from the painting below. Countless conditions had to converge for the painting to appear as it does now. The glory of God revealed in the face of Christ—and I almost missed it. Isn’t that just like everyday life?
What looks like an ordinary moment often carries a hidden meaning beneath the surface. What we think is our own reflection is quite often Christ at work. What can seem like a mistake or damage turns out to be a place of beauty where Christ is evident. And when we miss it, what a kindness of God to send a friend to guide us to the revelation of Christ.
During Advent, we ready our hearts for the light of Christ to shine anew. Over the years, our hearts collect stories and moments, worn by the weight of loss, grief, pain, and the burdens we bear. Yet these very places are where God’s gaze meets us, where His sacrificial love shines most clearly. As we wait for His coming, may we slow down long enough to see Christ emerging through the ordinary, especially in the places we least expect, and may we be instruments of His light, helping others see the face of Christ revealed in plain sight.
Prayer:
God of Glory, as our days gather layer upon layer with simple moments, joys, and burdens, may the face of Christ shine upon us, and may we kindly guide others to the light he reveals in the ordinary. Amen.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Reflection:
I go to the movies on average once a week. Last week my friend and I watched Bugonia, the new Emma Stone movie about a CEO who gets kidnapped by two men who believe she is an alien. It was a good movie. The acting was fantastic. The story was compelling. But it was bleak when it came to its view on the human race.
This led my friend and I down a path of discussing why, though nihilistic movies can be compelling, they are not the sort of stories that we love. The stories that do root themselves deep, not just in our hearts and minds, but our souls, have an undercurrent of hope, no matter how sad or tragic they are.
In his gospel, John wrote, “He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
On a macro scale, there’s a lot of darkness to contend with. The news is bleak. Our country is divided. The things we see on our phones sow anxiety. On a micro scale, we all are battling our own darkness. Maybe it’s grief or financial stress. Maybe it’s a scary diagnosis or broken relationship. Maybe it’s a heavy mind or heart.
We each play a part in furthering God’s Kingdom and his light. But today I want to speak specifically on how we, as Christians, or “little Christs” are capable of infusing God’s light into our creations to shine brighter than the darkness we face this Advent season.
As a Christian and a storyteller, JRR Tolkien, the author of the Lord of the Rings series, wrote an essay on his view of “sub-creation,” which is the belief that since we are made in the image of God, the ultimate creator, we are capable of also creating as a form of worship.
Though not all of us are famous authors constructing fantasy worlds or film directors shooting alien movies, we are all inclined to create. Where is God’s light in the things you create? In the lunch box you assemble for your child? In the friendship bracelet you make for your best friend? In the spotify playlist you put together for your significant other? In the Christmas cards you write for your loved ones? It’s there, even if you don’t recognize it. This Christmas, try to do some time not just recognizing that light, but infusing it into your creations.
Prayer:
God, thank you for creating us and the wonderous world you’ve placed us in. Let us do our part in shining your light through our own creations. Amen.
“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?”
Reflection:
Have you ever walked into a conference room to give a presentation and felt your palms start to sweat? Or sat outside a door before a job interview with your heart racing? Maybe public speaking doesn’t bother you, but your knees shake when you look down from the top deck of Kyle Field. These are all physical reactions to fear, your body responding to what your mind perceives as a threat. Scripture is full of people who experienced fear, and King David is certainly one of them. He faced Goliath with just a sling and some stones, dodged a spear meant for his heart, and spent years on the run. Yet in this Psalm, David writes: “The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?”
I think we can all agree that the darkness can be frightening—we don’t know what could be lurking. There are many instances in the Bible where evil is characterized as darkness. But while darkness can be frightening, light reveals what is hidden. Here, David reminds us that God is that light. He is always present, always revealing, and always protecting. If His light is with us, there is no reason to fear the dark.
David also calls God his salvation. In the Merriam-Webster dictionary, salvation literally means deliverance from danger or difficulty. And in a theological context, we understand salvation to be deliverance from sin and its consequences. No matter how we define it, salvation means being rescued from what threatens us. By acknowledging God as his salvation, David shows his faith that God will deliver him from any fearful situation. This reminds us that we have no reason to be afraid when we trust in God’s power to save.
In the final sentence of this verse, David describes God as the stronghold of his life. Generally, strongholds are places of safety and protection. Here, David once again reminds us that with God as our protector and safe sanctuary, there is no one we should fear. When we put our faith in God, we can withstand any attack or siege.
During Advent, a season of preparation and anticipation, we may feel anxious while we wait. But we can find peace in knowing that God is our light, our salvation and our stronghold. He will protect us from anything that may cause us fear.
Prayer:
Lord God, we bring to you our anxieties and our fears. Please remind us that with your as our light, our salvation, and our stronghold, there is nothing to be afraid of. Help us to remember that you are always with us, saving and protecting. In Jesus’s name, Amen.
“Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.”
Reflection:
If you listened to Christian music in the 80s and 90s (back in the 1900s, as my kids say), you may read this scripture and immediately hear it as a song. I hear it so clearly as Thy Word by Amy Grant that I listened to over and over with my church youth group. Amy set this scripture to music centuries after the Psalmist wrote it, yet the words remain as true as ever. God’s word guides us, and He graciously sends light to illuminate the path that He lays for us.
When we walk into a dark room, the first thing we do is turn on the light. We’ve done this so frequently that it is an automatic response. Just as often as light illuminates a dark room, God has shown us that He will light our path if we sincerely seek him. The first step in God’s creation was light. He knew that the rest of creation could not exist without light, so he made it first and called it good. Later, He sent a pillar of fire to guide the Israelites through the wilderness. Exodus tells us that the pillar of fire never left its place in front of the people so they could travel by day or night. When Jesus was born, the wise men followed the Star of Bethlehem to find the place where they could worship him. Without question, they knew that the starlight led them to something good. As a young coach’s wife (barely after the 1900s!), I didn’t have a map on my phone to lead me to my husband’s football games. Another coach’s wife and I would travel to the small town where the game was being played, and just drive until we saw the stadium lights. These lights always led us where we needed to go. A few years ago, I was going to a Christmas party at a co-worker’s house. I was running late (no surprise), and I had to park far away from the house. My frustration and uncertainty were high when I realized I couldn’t find the house after parking on the side of an unknown, dark road. I was about to give up and head home when my friend Kristin appeared with her flashlight. She knew I would be running late and waited for me with a flashlight so I could get to the party. Kristin provided the light for us both to get to our destination, and it was good.
Maybe football stadium lights and a friend’s flashlight are not quite the same as the Star of Bethlehem. But I sincerely believe that God sends people and sources of light to guide our path to follow him. To borrow words from a Lauran Daigle song, we simply need to “Look up, child” to see His light. He will always show us the way. Prayer:
God, thank you for lighting our paths ever since we could sing the words “this little light of mine”. Please continue to be our light in whatever darkness we face. Each time we turn on a light, we promise to remember your promises to us and to seek your guidance for our lives. Amen.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.
Reflection:
I went for a walk while on a retreat and found myself truly, deeply lost. I had no cell phone and no sense of direction—just miles of unfamiliar road ahead. Eventually, I came upon a farm-to-market road, nearly six miles from where I was supposed to be. Two men were working on a car nearby, and I asked them where I was and if they could give me a ride. To be honest, I was scared.
We are most found when we are most lost.
When we reach the end of ourselves—when our plans fall apart, when the path disappears, when the voices around us no longer comfort—that is when we begin to understand what being alone can feel like. Yet that is also the very space where God meets us. He specializes in the wilderness, in disorientation, in the moments when we whisper, “I don’t even know who I am anymore.” The truth is this: feeling lost often prepares our hearts to be found. Lostness humbles us, silences our pride, and opens space for grace. In that space, God reminds us that His presence does not depend on our direction, His love does not waver with our confusion, and His hand is never too short to reach us.
So if you feel lost today—uncertain, weary, even ashamed—remember: your Shepherd sees you. You are not overlooked. You are not beyond His reach. You may be closer to being found than you realize, precisely because you’ve discovered you can’t find your way on your own.
Prayer:
Lord, thank You for never giving up on me, even when I wander. In my lostness, help me rest in the truth that You are seeking me, holding me, and guiding me back home. Teach me to trust that when I feel most lost, I am most found in You. Amen.
For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.
Reflection:
We await the coming of Christ. As Christ is God made flesh, his humanity bears and reveals the fullness of God’s justice. Torah teaches that God’s justice is not abstract, and Advent refuses to let us ignore this. God delivers justice for the orphan and the widow, and loves the stranger, and then commands God’s people to do the same. But we live in a world that often resists God’s justice. Vulnerable people are treated as expendable. Migrants are dehumanized. The poor are blamed for their poverty. People in need are written off as problems to solve rather than persons worthy of community. This is not a failure of policy. It’s a failure of vision.
When we do not see the image of God in others, we inevitably treat them as less.
This is the wound of the Fall. The image of God within us is not erased or removed, but it is distorted. We forget who we are, and we forget who others are. We absorb the world’s categories and hierarchies. We learn to look past the vulnerable people God makes central because their suffering disrupts comfort. Advent names this distortion plainly. It exposes the ways we allow injustice to become normal. But Advent is not only a diagnosis. Advent is hope. It is the season when the Church longs for what God intends. We hope for the One who restores the image of God within us. We hope that our sight might be healed, our hearts re-formed, our lives reshaped around God’s justice. We hope for the restoration of the image of God within our world where those who are trampled will instead be lifted up, where the stranger is welcomed, where the poor are valued, where no one is forgotten.
And so we wait. We wait for the child of Bethlehem, who reveals God’s justice in the vulnerability of a manger. And we wait for his promised return, when justice will finally roll down like waters and every distorted image will be made whole. Advent holds these two things together and asks us a simple question: Will we learn to see as God sees?
Prayer:
Come, Lord Jesus. Restore God’s image in us. Bring your justice in our world. Amen
32 So now, our God—the great, mighty, and awe-inspiring God who keeps His gracious covenant— do not view lightly all the hardships that have afflicted us, our kings and leaders, our priests and prophets, our ancestors and all Your people, from the days of the Assyrian kings until today. 33 You are righteous concerning all that has come on us, because You have acted faithfully, while we have acted wickedly.
Psalm 30:4-5
4 Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name. 5 For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.
Psalm 31:22-24
22 I had said in my alarm, “I am cut off from your sight.” But you heard the voice of my pleas for mercy when I cried to you for help. 23 Love the Lord, all you his saints! The Lord preserves the faithful but abundantly repays the one who acts in pride. 24 Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord!
As Christmas and the season of Advent are upon us, I feel an array of emotions, with grief and joy appearing next to each other.
As I’ve reflected on this season of Christmas and Advent, God keeps reminding me that sorrow and joy are not opposite emotions in His kingdom. They often live side by side. Psalm 30:4–5 tells us, “Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” Advent joy doesn’t erase grief, but it reminds us that God’s might is strong enough to carry both, turning mourning into rejoicing in His perfect time.
To share some perspective into my life, I am preparing to graduate from Texas A&M and begin my first job in January. I have so much to be grateful for, yet part of me longs for things that can no longer be. I lost my grandmother, with whom I was very close, to an aggressive brain cancer over the summer. I have spent many days over the last few months asking God, “WHY?”
“God, why do you let some of your most faithful servants suffer great amounts of pain?”
“God, how am I supposed to keep moving forward?”
“God, what am I supposed to do without the person who kept me grounded and pointed me north?”
“What is the point of all of this, Lord?”
As I’ve wrestled through grief, graduation, and the unknowns of my future, God has gently laid one simple answer on my heart:
I will lead you where I need you.
In eight simple words, God is telling this perfectionist and planner to trust. Trusting God and His intentions are not as easy as it may seem— especially when the direction He wants to lead you doesn’t seem to make any sense. But again and again, through every doubt and every moment of hurt, I’ve ended up exactly where God intended for me to be. My summer internship fell through, and I ended up working at a bank back home, across the street from the care facility my grandma was placed in. I got to see her every day during her last couple of weeks with us. That was all a part of God’s timing, placing me where I needed to be.
I was worried about finding a job post graduation, and having to leave the community I have built here in College Station, but God made a way, and an opportunity arose allowing me to stay in BCS. While these are more dramatic ways of God moving in my life, I share these examples to show (and to remind myself), that God places us where He needs of most, even if we do not understand the purpose or the why. Only an all-knowing, mighty God could weave such a story.
For this devotional, I chose to include Psalm 31:22–24. In these verses, David feels forgotten by God—out of reach—yet he ends with a reminder that those who wait on the Lord will be strengthened. I also included Nehemiah 9:32–33, which reminds us that we serve a God who is great, mighty, and faithful to keep His covenant, even when we struggle to see His plan.
The third week of Advent reminds us that true joy doesn’t rise and fall with our circumstances. It flows from a mighty God who keeps His promises and stays close in every season. Advent joy is the quiet confidence that He is strong enough to hold both our grief and our gratitude at once. As we continue through the season, may we give thanks for the gift of salvation, continue to seek his presence, and remember that only our mighty God can take what feels painful or uncertain and use it for the good of His kingdom.
I would like to leave you all with a question of reflection that has guided me through the emotions of advent and a prayer: What am I asking God for during this season?
Prayer:
Almighty God, Thank you for having your hand in my life each day. I ask you to take the burden and worries I carry, because only You know what is ahead. When darkness feels near, please give me the faith to trust your timing and plans for me. Amen.
7 Lift up your heads, O gates! and be lifted up, O ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in! 8 Who is the King of glory? The Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord, mighty in battle. 9 Lift up your heads, O gates! and be lifted up, O ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in! 10 Who is this King of glory? The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory. Selah
Psalm 51:10-12
10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.
Reflection:
I imagine well. As a kid I played with two imaginary friends—one was Terry; the other was unnamed. We three ran through the yard around my parent’s ranch home and enjoyed endless conversations. And I always decided which game to play or adventure to tackle next,sometimes after asking Terry what he thought. I could invite them to play any time I wanted. So, I did. My imagination only increased when my parents transferred me to a larger school to begin the fifth grade. My imaginary friends had long disappeared, and so had my real friends, my former, familiar classmates. I had no friends. And I imagined these new classmates whispering about me—the new kid—and I imagined never breaking acceptance into their inner circles. I imagined I didn’t belong. And being bullied only solidified my certainty of never fitting in.
Again, my imagination is piqued while reflecting on Psalm 24. I imagine being a citizen living inside high rock walls surrounding an ancient city. Someone is shouting to Lift up Your Heads! Lift up the Gates! The King is Coming! Who is this king? It seems his advance is unexpected. Because the question is addressed with the explanation, “He is the King of Glory!” “Lift up the ancient doors that He may come in!” I imagine anticipation surrounding the first glimpse of this King. The King of Glory! And I’m left to imagine, ‘What does this mean?’ As I navigated through the fall season of my miserable fifth grade year, I imagined that if I could show my parents how horrible I felt, how much I dreaded “going back to that place again tomorrow” they would realize their huge mistake and place me back among my friends in a ‘welcome back’ school room. I cried. I begged. I pleaded, “please don’t make me go back tomorrow”. I often cried during the 18-mile trip from the sanctuary of our country home before being dropped off outside this dreadful school. Sometimes my classmates could tell I’d been crying which triggered more whispering. The Psalmist speaks in 51 about a new heart, being filled with gladness and joy. He tells us about creating a clean heart and a new, right spirit within. He speaks of renewal, restoration, of reacceptance following defeat and defection. One of my cherished Bible verses, one that ‘speaks directly to me’ is Psalm 51:17, “The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken heart. A broken and contrite heart is the exact sacrifice God openly, gladly receives and will not despise.”
My imagination is useless when interpreting this verse. No imagination necessary. Reality kicks in here. My heart has been broken because I have broken the heart of my God, and my Savior, Jesus the Christ. And as I reflect on kneeling at the cross, I remember. This cross is possible because a baby came into the world – came into my world – through a Divine Plan requiring an obedient young woman who asked no questions – did not resist, and was incapable of imagining what story would unfold – and willingly said, “Here is your handmaid”. “Use me as You will.”
No imagination necessary.
Prayer:
Thank You, Father. As we gather among friends, family and strangers, thank You for the reality of Jesus, Baby of Bethlehem, saving us from ourselves. Imaginations might soar with this season curiously wondering about the contents inside Christmas gifts, yet we claim the reality, the truth of Christ, our Savior, born both human and Holy, claiming our transgressions as His own, the Perfect Gift for Your own Creation. Amen.
Reflection:
Just as we sing in worship to celebrate the glory and power that God has to transform our lives, He does the same for us when we decide to place our trust and faith in Jesus. The idea of God being a Mighty Warrior who saves us hits especially hard for me as someone who found my faith and, in turn, was rescued in college here at A&M United Methodist Church.
God continues to be active and works to save through disciples here on earth, just as Jesus did with the apostles who spread the good news and pushed the church forward after His ascension back into heaven. In the battle against sin, God acts as a valiant general who entrusts us as followers to be His soldiers and go on rescue missions to reclaim any lost sheep that we may encounter during our travels.
During this Advent season, I continue to reflect on how the kindness shown to me by this congregation led me back to the path, and through the might and power of God, I have been blessed with the opportunity to serve and rejoice with others as we find comfort in the saving grace of our Lord and Savior. To show gratitude towards the power and majesty of the Lord, I have found that worship provides me with spiritual fulfillment, as singing my praises to the Lord reflects the delight and rejoicing that He shows for us here in Zephaniah.
Now, I challenge you to think about how you can delight in the power of the Lord, who continues to fuel us each and every day through the power of the Holy Spirit, who is active proof that the Lord our God is with us through every moment.
Prayer:
Mighty God, Thank you for the ways you reach out your hands to save us, especially through our church community. Help us to delight in your power. May it fuel us each and every day. Amen.
For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders, and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Reflection:
I cannot read these iconic words from Isaiah without immediately thinking of the book later turned into a movie “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.” If you have never encountered the unforgettable Herdman children from that story, you are in for a treat. Seriously, go buy the book. It’s less than a hundred pages, will take you about an hour to read, and I bet it makes you both laugh and cry.
But one of the wild and unruly children in the story has the privilege of saying these words from Isaiah 9. And instead of reciting them formally or with extra holiness, she yells them “as if it was, for sure, the best news in the world.” Oh my if that line doesn’t get me every time. Because it truly is the best news in the whole wide world. Worthy of being yelled, screamed, and hollered from the mountaintops as we dance and laugh and hug and smile and remember together what the gift of Christ really means. Then, now, and forever more. It is holy, yes. Proper, sure. But majestically wonderful and joy filled maybe most of all. And so very worthy of being proclaimed as if it is the best news in the world.
A child was born for you. Yes, you.
For the person who was born into the church. For the person who just found their way here. For the ones who left and have cautiously made their way back. For the beggar, the borrower, the beautiful, and the messy.
You, me, and every single person in between. A child was born for us. Who then became one of us. And lived alongside of us. The greatest gift in the history of the world. I hope you’ll receive it this holiday season. In its full and incredible audacity. Don’t breeze past it in the busyness. Don’t let it get lost in the travel plans. Pause, now and hopefully a few more times in the next couple of days and remember these words: “Hey! Unto You A Child Is Born!” The greatest gift in the history of the world. Wrapped in swaddling cloths instead of fancy paper and laid in a manger instead of under a tree. A gift for you, for me, for all of us. Hallelujah.
Prayer:
God, let us receive this gift with joy and open hands. And let it shape and form us to remember how deeply you cared for each of us to give us the very, very best you had to give. Amen.
“17 When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he placed his right hand on me, saying, “Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, 18 and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades.”
Reflection:
Advent and Christmas are maybe not when I think of celebrating the one who says “I am the first and the last.” I think during Advent and Christmas of Mary’s visit from the angel, of her visit to Elizabeth, of the unborn baby John jumping in the womb at being in the presence of the unborn Christ child. I think of celebrating the birth of a baby in a manger, of shepherds guarding their flocks by night, of trumpets sounding from heaven and angels singing Glory to God in the highest and of wise men bringing gifts.
I don’t think then of the young man who stays behind in the Temple, the man who heals the sick and who performs miracles, who feeds the multitudes, who asks people to come be fishers of men, who throws over tables in the Temple, who is crucified, died, buried, and is now “the living one.” I think during Advent of the one who is born to show me how to live love. But, if being born on purpose to die for everyone on purpose is not living love, then nothing shows me how to live love.
When I think of the one who is “alive forever and ever; and who has the keys of Death and Hades,” I can’t keep from thinking of all the times throughout history how we as people have turned our backs on that One. We have loved everything but “the living one.” We have not followed His example or his commandment to love each other as we love ourselves. Yet, still, “the last” chose to come at Christmas as a baby to save us from ourselves.
Jesus, the Last, brought my gift on Christmas. What can I give in return? Let me try to live love as he showed me.
Prayer:
Inhale: Thank you, Jesus
Exhale: for your gift of love.
Amen.
Listen to me, O Jacob, Israel, whom I have called: I am He; I am the First, and I am the Last.
Reflection:
December 23rd often feels like an in-between moment during the Advent season. The Advent wreath of hope, peace, joy, and love has been almost completely lit; most of the preparations are finished; our houses and church are decorated; colorful presents are under the tree; and many Christmas memories have been made; but Christmas Eve still awaits ahead. It’s a rare built-in pause to our Advent – a moment to breathe before the celebration fully begins. In this stillness, Isaiah 48:12 invites us to listen to: “I am the first, and I am the last.”
At Christmas, it is easy for us to be distracted by all the elements of the season. The family gatherings, traditions, gift-giving, and long to-do lists can pull our attention in a hundred different directions. But this season is about so much more than all of that. Advent reminds us that preparation is not just about what we do, but about where our hearts are directed. Before the Christmas lights, before the manger scenes, before the carols and celebrations, God reminds His people who He is. He is constant. He is eternal. He is enough.
When Isaiah writes these words, God is speaking to His people who feel distracted, discouraged, and uncertain. He calls them back – not with noise or urgency, but with truth. I am the first. Before anything else claimed your attention, I was here. I am the last. When everything else fades, I will remain.
As we reflect on the Advent season, this truth points us directly to Jesus. The baby born in Bethlehem is not just part of the Christmas story, He is the center of it. Jesus is the Word made flesh, present at creation and victorious at the end of time. He enters our world not to add one more obligation, but to offer peace, restoration, and hope.
December 23rd gives us permission to slow down and remember that Christmas is not something we have to perform. It is something we receive. Jesus does not ask for a perfectly executed holiday – He asks for our attention, our trust, and our hearts.
So today, before the busyness of Christmas Eve arrives, take a moment to be still. Let go of the pressure to make everything perfect. Sit in the truth that Jesus is the first and the last – the beginning of our hope and the fulfillment of God’s promise. As we move into Christmas, may our focus rest not on what is left to do, but on who has already come.
Prayer:
Gracious, loving, and omnipresent God, We thank you for this beautiful Advent season. Help us to slow down and fix our eyes upon You. In the midst of celebration and anticipation, remind us that You are our true focus – yesterday, today, and forever. Amen.
So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.
Reflection:
It is Christmas Eve, the night before we wake up to celebrate the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ. I think of Christmas Eve as a quiet and meditative time with the song Silent Night immediately coming to mind. In reality, it’s never been a quiet, meditative time in my life as it is always a time filled with family and eating and lots of activity. I also suspect it wasn’t too quiet for Mary and Joseph there among the animals where Jesus was born.
Every year, as we begin the Advent season, we are reminded that this is a season of waiting. I am not a patient person by nature so waiting is not my favorite activity. It is easy for me to think that we are simply waiting for Christmas Day to finally get here. But what are we really waiting for, and what does it mean—especially during the week of Jesus’ birth—to call him by the name “End”? At first, this name seems puzzling, because a birth feels like a beginning. But earlier in this season we reflected on the name Beginning, and we were reminded that Jesus already existed with God at creation. The meaning of Jesus entering the human world through the birth of a baby is that God, through Jesus, chose to experience life from our human point of view. Jesus’ time in human form allowed him to teach us through both words and by example. Scripture gives us access to those lessons and that way of life.
Calling Jesus End, then, does not mean an ending in the sense of something stopping. It means fulfillment or completion—God’s purposes being brought into focus. In Jesus, we are given a complete picture of God’s nature and God’s desire for us. In that sense, becoming more like Jesus is the end toward which creation has been moving all along. The birth of Jesus, the life he lived, and his death and resurrection define Christian hope for us. Theologian N.T. Wright wrote “The Christian hope is not about escape from the world, but about the transformation of the world”. It is God who does the transforming, but our acts of faithfulness, kindness, and worship are ways in which we participate with God. Understanding Jesus as End means that we have everything we need to live life as God intended for us from the beginning. When we can follow the words from the gospel of John “to wash one another’s feet” we begin to follow Jesus’ example in our lives and we move toward serving, loving, and reflecting God’s character in everything we do. Prayer:
Gracious and loving God, we call Jesus “End” because he gave us the perfect example of how to live a life in you by loving others as ourselves and committing to faithfulness and kindness in all we do. We struggle mightily at times but we pray that we can “let it be so” today and every day. Amen.
28 After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), ‘I thirst.’ 29 A jar full of sour wine stood there, so they put a sponge full of the sour wine on a hyssop branch and held it to His mouth. 30 When Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, ‘It is finished,’ and He bowed His head and gave up His spirit.
Reflection
It seems odd to skip to the end of the story even as we celebrate the beginning, doesn’t it? It’s more traditional to go in order and avoid spoilers, even in a story that you know. The Christmas gifts have hardly been unwrapped yet; leave the crucifixion for Good Friday, right? But what do we really celebrate on Christmas? Beyond the gifts, the lights, and the joy of family coming home, we’re here for something more. The whole season of Advent is a time of preparation and waiting for this very day, when we remember that Jesus came down to earth: He who is the Beginning of everything, the Light of the world, our Mighty God, and the End. He is Alpha and Omega. He is the entire story. So are we just remembering Christ’s birth on this day each year, or are we also anticipating something greater in our celebration?
We are caught in the middle of the Bible story right now, between first creation and renewal, but in those same pages is the promise of how the story ends. Jesus tells us in triumph and promise from the cross, “It is finished”. The end of the story is written and all the pieces put into place. Jesus is the Beginning that we have seen, but He is also the End that we wait for in hope. As we look back each season on all that God has done, we are not putting our hope in the past alone. What God has done, He can do again, and even greater things still. Christmas Day is not just a day of memory, but of promise. Jesus began the gospel story in a manger, finished His work on the cross, proclaimed His victory in the fires of Pentecost, and even now stands ready to end the story with a new creation. We celebrate Christ coming to earth on Christmas as we remember His promise to return again in glory.
Christmas celebrates the fulfillment of God’s promise to send a Messiah for His people, so that we can remember His promise to come back. When Jesus came down to earth the first time to die on the cross, He was the End of our sins. When Jesus comes back to earth in glory and judges the world, He will be the End of the old creation. We will get to be with Him in paradise when He returns, which is worth celebrating all the more! We are so used to celebrating Jesus as the Beginning of the story, as the Light of the world, and as our Mighty God, but Jesus as the End is just as much our hope and peace.
So as we celebrate this joyful day of Christmas with food, gifts, and all your family traditions, let us remember why we have hope. It’s not just that Jesus came down to earth once and left it at that. It’s not just that Jesus is the triumphant Beginning of everything. Christ wrote every piece of your story and mine: beginning, middle, and end. He is the End of all our troubles and sins forevermore, and He will come back soon. Praise be to God for that, this day and every day! Merry Christmas!
Prayer
King Jesus, Alpha and Omega, thank you for all that you are, all that you’ve done for us, and all that you have planned. Lord, we pray for the wisdom to seek you in all things and place our hope in you alone. Keep our hearts fixed on you and help us to remember that you’re not only the God of the past but the God of the present and future as well. Strengthen us, we pray, to shine your light to all the world and spread the true joy of Christmas to all we meet. Amen.
