Waiting can feel like standing on the porch—close enough to smell the feast, yet still outside. In the tension between “already” and “not yet,” God meets you in your frustrations, your exhaustion, and your overwhelmed silence. Advent reminds you that waiting is part of the story, but not the end of it. Because Jesus has come and will come again, hope has an object and your name is known. As you wait at the door today, remember His coming is certain, and your waiting is not wasted [15:28].
Romans 8:18–25 — Our present hardships don’t compare with the glory God will reveal. All creation leans forward, longing for renewal, groaning like labor pains for the day of freedom. We, who carry the Spirit’s first fruits, also ache inside while we await full adoption and the redemption of our bodies. We were saved into this hope; what we can’t yet see we patiently expect.
Reflection: Where does waiting feel heaviest this week, and what one honest sentence could you pray to God about it before you take your next step today?
Before circumstances change, God speaks comfort to your heart. He reminds you that exile—your uncertainty, fatigue, and unanswered questions—does not cancel His claim on you. He speaks tenderly, assuring you that He is near and that belonging is secure even while you wait. Listen for His footsteps; movement often begins as mercy whispered to your soul. Receive His comfort today as a promise that He is already on the way [31:33].
Isaiah 40:1–5 — “Comfort my people,” says your God. Speak kindly to their hearts and tell them their struggle is seen and their guilt is answered. Make room in the wilderness, clear a straight highway for the Lord to come. Let valleys be raised, mountains brought low, uneven ground smoothed out. Then the Lord’s splendor will appear, and everyone will see it together.
Reflection: What specific word of comfort from God do you most need to hear today, and how might you create five quiet minutes to receive it without rushing?
Preparation in Scripture is not frantic striving; it is welcoming Presence. The King Himself takes responsibility to come near, flattening what seems immovable and smoothing what feels impossible. This is good news for tired people who have been waiting longer than expected. Your task is not to earn access, but to set your hope where it belongs—on the One who refuses to stay distant. Trust Him to do the leveling you cannot do [34:20].
Luke 3:2–6 — The word of God came to John in the wilderness, and he called people to turn back to God for forgiveness. He cried out, “Get ready in the desert—make the Lord’s path clear.” Valleys will be filled, mountains lowered, crooked places straightened, rough terrain made smooth. Then every person will see God’s saving work.
Reflection: What obstacle feels beyond your strength right now, and how could you hand it to Jesus in prayer today, asking Him to do the “road work” you cannot?
Your groans are not pointless; they are labor pains moving toward life. Waiting with patience doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine—it can mean holding on with the little strength you have left. Hope that is seen isn’t hope, but unseen hope steadies you because God is at work behind the door. Let your honest ache become a steady prayer as you look for the coming light. Keep leaning forward; the story is moving toward renewal [36:55].
Romans 8:24–25 — We were saved into a hope we can’t yet see. If we already had it in full, we wouldn’t be hoping. Since we don’t see it now, we keep waiting for it with steady endurance.
Reflection: When your strength thins, what short breath prayer (for example, “Jesus, I trust You here”) could you repeat today to anchor your patience in God’s promise?
In Jesus, God stepped onto the porch of our world, carried our exile and sin to the cross, and rose to open the door wide. Because of Him, you wait as someone already known by name, already welcomed, already claimed. The porch is temporary; the feast is certain. Let that assurance shape your pace, soften your words, and guide your choices this week. Home is nearer than you realize [42:19].
John 1:14 — The eternal Word became human and made His home among us. We saw His splendor up close—the radiance of the Father’s one and only Son—overflowing with grace and truth.
Reflection: Who around you needs a sign of welcome this week, and what simple, concrete act could you offer that reflects Jesus’ open door?
This week, standing just days from Christmas, I invited us to stand together “on the porch”—close enough to catch the light and the smell of supper, not quite inside yet. Advent helps us name that place. Waiting has weight. It exposes what’s going on in our hearts—impatience, distraction, the urge to control—yet it also becomes the place where God meets us with mercy. We confessed our weariness and heard the good news: in Jesus, God has stepped through the door and into our waiting, and our waiting is not wasted. Forgiveness is not an idea; it’s an arrival.
Paul says creation groans, and so do we. That groan isn’t just dramatic moments—it’s the quiet ache that life is not as it should be. But Paul shifts the image: it’s not the groan of decay without purpose; it’s the pains of childbirth—pain moving toward life. Hope, then, is not a mood but a direction. We lean forward toward what we can’t yet see because God has already moved toward us in Christ.
Isaiah 40 opens with God’s first word to exiles: “Comfort.” Before anything changes, God speaks tenderly and lays claim: you still belong to me. Then God promises to come and level the way—valleys lifted, mountains made low. Notice the accent: not “you build the road,” but “I’m removing what stands between us.” The Christian life is not earning access to God; it’s learning to trust the God who refuses to stay distant.
So how do we wait this week? Not as people wondering whether the door will open, but as people who know who lives inside and that our name is known. Patience isn’t pretending you’re fine. Sometimes patience is simply breathing when the list is long, refusing to numb out, and choosing to remember that God is at work when you can’t see Him. Because Christ has already stepped onto the porch and carried our exile, our sin, and even death to the cross, the porch is temporary. The door will swing wide. Until then, we practice a hope that leans forward, a love that listens, and a trust that rests in the One who came, who comes, and who will come again.
God is telling his people, he's telling us that he is going to come to us, that he's not staying distant, that he's coming to us and he's going to remove what stands in the way. And notice that it's not about what we do. It's not, the command is not, hey, you go build the roads and level the paths and do all this stuff. But rather that I am going to remove anything and everything that stands between you and me. That's what God says to us. [00:34:03] (32 seconds) #GodComesNear
Because at the end of the day, our preparation isn't about gaining access. It's about being reminded of a God who refuses to stay distant. And that is good news for tired people. That is good news for those of us who feel stuck. That is good news for those of us who have been waiting longer than we expected. And we just want an answer. That is the promise of Advent. That is what Christmas is all about, is that the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords is coming and has made the way clear, has made the way level for us to come back to Him. [00:35:06] (49 seconds) #AdventIsGoodNews
That is the promise of Advent. That is what Christmas is all about, is that the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords is coming and has made the way clear, has made the way level for us to come back to Him. And just like we heard in Romans chapter 8, the waiting has a direction, the groaning has a future, and hope has an object, and our waiting on the porch is temporary. [00:35:36] (35 seconds) #AdventPromisesHope
Because of Christ. Because of Jesus. And even though waiting at the door, standing on the porch, may feel like nothing's happening, we can trust that God is still at work. We can trust that he is doing what he has promised to do. And because God keeps his promises, we live in hope. A hope that is not fully realized, but a hope that is certain because God left his home in heaven for us, made his home among us, lived the life that we couldn't, died the death that we deserved, and overcame it all, so that he could gather his people and bring us into our eternal home with him. [00:37:21] (59 seconds) #HopeBecauseOfChrist
We can trust that he is doing what he has promised to do. And because God keeps his promises, we live in hope. A hope that is not fully realized, but a hope that is certain because God left his home in heaven for us, made his home among us, lived the life that we couldn't, died the death that we deserved, and overcame it all, so that he could gather his people and bring us into our eternal home with him. [00:37:38] (41 seconds) #GodKeepsHisPromises
I'm in this moment where there's a lot kind of up against me, and yet I know that God is with me and that He is working. because in just a few days, we get to celebrate the beauty of what Christmas is all about. In Jesus, God stepped in and onto the porch, and He entered into our waiting, and He took our frustrations, He took our groaning, He took our longing for something better, and He carried our exile, our separation. He carried our sin, and even death, all the way to the cross, and He overcame it all for you. [00:41:33] (45 seconds) #JesusEnteredOurWaiting
So because of Jesus, we know that the porch is temporary, and one day the waiting will end with a wide open door once and for all. And until then, we wait patiently. We hope, we trust that the one who, we trust the one who promised to let us in, because the porch waiting at the door is not the end of the story. That love has opened the door, and home, being claimed, being named, and being welcomed in Christ is a lot closer than we realize. So God's peace and strength be with you today and always. Amen. [00:42:19] (51 seconds) #PorchIsTemporary
And until then, we wait patiently. We hope, we trust that the one who, we trust the one who promised to let us in, because the porch waiting at the door is not the end of the story. That love has opened the door, and home, being claimed, being named, and being welcomed in Christ is a lot closer than we realize. [00:42:33] (31 seconds) #HomeIsCloserInChrist
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