This week, as we light the first candle of Advent, let’s turn our hearts and minds toward hope. Over the years, I have slowly changed my definition of hope. Instead of wishful thinking, I’m learning that hope is more about the process, not the outcome. Put simply, for me, to hope is to wait — and I don’t mean waiting only for what is to come after we leave this life. I’m talking about waiting for God’s dream of love and peace to be realized here, now.
In Advent, we sit in the tension of the now and the not yet. The tension of the kingdom at hand and the kingdom to come. We settle into a longing. And we wait.
As I think about hope this week, I wonder what my role is. Is hope only waiting, or do we participate? Is it a dream of some future ideal, or is hope the path we take toward its fulfillment? Is hope a baby born in Bethlehem, or the savior who continues to deliver us?
In her brilliant book The Last Advent in Palestine1, Kelley Nicondeha says this: Advent is a time set aside to learn and acknowledge that God is always coming to our troubled times. I love how Sarah Bessey talks about the season: If Christmas is for the joy, then Advent is for the longing.
Not one of us can escape the longing. We can hang up decorations, plug in some lights, buy the perfect gifts, and attend every party and church service — but that tug will still be there. We will still long for peace, joy, and love.
This first week, as we lean into the darkness, into the longing of Advent, we have a choice. We can wait, holding our hope close to our chest, or we can wait in active hope, sharing it with others.
I recently read a picture book called Something, Someday by Amanda Gorman2. In it, a child notices all the suffering around him and feels despair for his neighborhood (and the world). Gorman’s story feels hopeless until you read these words:
Sometimes, you feel like you’re all alone,
but somewhere, someday, you find a friend
Someone who will hope with you,
who believes in your dream.
Someone who will fight with you.
The book paints a beautiful picture of how we can be active in our hope together. In Something, Someday it’s a hope where neighbors join in picking up trash and planting a garden. This feels like a hope I can tap into. A hope that feels authentic against the backdrop of a suffering world. A hope without platitudes. A hope that reminds you you are not alone. A hope that names the suffering but keeps a candle lit.
We have already lit the first candle of Advent in our home, and I can tell I will have to buy a second set if we want to make it to Christmas. I love having candles lit at the table each night, but I want for the flames to be a reminder of the hope we carry and not just another decoration.
I want to posture myself to wait well in the longing without shying away from the suffering. I want to chat a little longer with the Costco cashier, notice a lonely neighbor, make a little extra soup for a friend, and give generously to those in need.
When I look at the candles, I want to be reminded that we are called to bring light to places that desperately need it — keeping in mind that a single candle will not illuminate the whole world or even my street, but like in our story: somewhere someday you find a friend…who will hope with you. My invitation today is for you to light your candle of hope. When we hold our candles together, when we hope together, it will bring us ever closer to the dream of peace and love here and now.
Links & Spiritual Direction News
Our church community is reading Advent at The Welcome Table together this year, and I am already enjoying it. There is also a companion to read aloud with kids: Advent at The Kids Table.
I mentioned before that my friend Elizabeth Peterson is offering an Advent Yoga Bundle - I took the first (recorded) class Thursday morning and loved it! I think you can still sign up and receive all four Advent-themed yoga classes.
I’m enjoying the Christmas albums from Hiss Golden Messenger if you’re looking for something to listen to this holiday season — O Come All Ye Faithful and The Sounding Joy.
Thursday night, I led a small group through Preparing to Wait: An Advent Retreat; it was a spacious time to prayerfully consider how to enter the Advent season. If you were not able to participate and would like a written version of the retreat, please subscribe to my substack and I’ll send it over to you! (If you already subscribe, reply to this email and I’ll send it your way!)
As a spiritual direction apprentice, I am taking on directees (both in person and virtually) for free as I learn and grow in the practice. You can read more about my apprenticeship training here, see my bio at the bottom of this page and read a little about my philosophy of spiritual direction here. If spiritual direction is something that you or someone you know might be interested in, please reach out! I can be contacted at hollyporterphillips@gmail.com.
The Last Advent in Palestine: Reversals, Resistance, and the Ongoing Complexity of Hope, by Kelley Nikondeha - this book has been an important companion during Advent for a few years now.
Something, Someday by Amanda Gorman - you can see the illustrations and listen to the book read aloud, here.