I don’t like to wait. Waiting means I have to… well… wait. And who has time to wait in this world?
We live in an instant culture—instant messages, instant photos, instant deliveries, instant responses. We track our groceries in real time because God forbid we should have to… wait.
And yet Advent arrives right in the busiest season of the year inviting us to do exactly that.
Advent is an act of resistance.
Advent is the season of preparation for the birth of Christ, observed during the four Sundays leading up to Christmas. Each week focuses on a guiding principle: hope, peace, joy, and love. It’s a time to slow down, reflect, and prepare our hearts, inviting intentional waiting into a world that tells us to rush.
These past few years have prepared many of us for Advent in ways we didn’t ask for. We’ve waited through uncertainty, through illness, through shifting routines, through news cycles that never seemed to stop. We waited for updates, for justice, for healing, for connection, for clarity, for closure, for breath. Life has felt like a wait-fest.
But in the midst of all this waiting, something else surfaced: the weight.
Waiting has a way of bringing us face to face with what we’ve been carrying—perfectionism, overextension, control, fear, guilt, grief, exhaustion.
I’ve had to learn, slowly, to release some of those weights.
Life keeps teaching me that carrying more doesn’t make me stronger—it simply makes me tired.
Scripture reminds us:
“But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength…” — Isaiah 40:31
“Let us lay aside every weight… and run with perseverance…” — Hebrews 12:1
This Advent, our waiting is not wasted. Waiting can sharpen our vision and soften our hearts. It helps us notice who’s weary, who needs encouragement, who needs a moment of grace. It gives us room to bless ourselves—and others—with patience, presence, and compassion.
So as we move through this season, may we: look
• Slow down long enough to notice what we’re carrying
• Release the weights that are too heavy to hold
• Offer kindness to our own souls
• Extend gentleness to those around us who are waiting too
May we remember that the holy often arrives quietly, in the pauses we resist and the stillness we avoid.
