Dear Lord, open my eyes to understand you as the hope for my life, the author of my faith, joy of my heart and my perfect peace. Please show me through this Advent season how to journey from lament to hope.

Isaiah 9:6

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9

Colossians 1:15-17

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

Colossians 1

John 1:1-4

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. 4In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.

John 1

Psalm 6:6-7

I am worn out from my groaning.
All night long I flood my bed with weeping
and drench my couch with tears.
My eyes grow weak with sorrow;
they fail because of all my foes.

Psalm 6

Did you grow up celebrating Advent? I didn’t. As a season of looking about and honestly acknowledging the darkness and brokenness of the world, Advent stands in sharp contrast to the barrage of bright colors, peppy music, and Hallmark Christmas movies that seems to appear ever earlier each year. I confess that commercial Christmas has felt a little hollow recently, as I, like most, have lived through losses and hard seasons. But as I experience more of Advent each year, I am thankful for a season that offers to sit with me in my pain before moving me toward a deeper and truer hope at Christmas.

Scripture gives us many examples of honestly pouring out our hearts to God. In Psalm 6, David doesn’t hold back. “I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes” (v6-7, ESV). David comes to God with all his pain. Why? Because He has faith that God is compassionate enough to want to help him and powerful enough to do so.

We, too, can pour out our complaints to our Mighty God. In humility, we can acknowledge our powerlessness to address the scope of brokenness that we find in this world, others, and ourselves. Our Scriptures this week tell us that Christ, in His might, created all things. He sees us as we truly are, and desires for us to come to Him as our true selves, not hiding or holding back. When we do this, we communicate that we fully trust Him, and we open ourselves to experience being completely known and completely loved. At Advent - as at all times - we come to a Savior who “holds all things together” when we feel that everything is falling apart (Colossians 1:17).

It seems paradoxical that a Mighty God would clothe himself in frail humanity and come to us as a baby, living the full human experience in all its joys and sorrows. Jesus experienced hunger and thirst. He felt his mother’s embrace. He experienced the sting of rejection and betrayal. He had deep friendships. Jesus accepted the limitations of a human body and our human experience, and in doing so, he became the Savior who understands our cries on an experiential level.

Come with your complaints to your Mighty God this week, having faith that he is both infinitely powerful and infinitely compassionate.