An Advent Encouragement
Have you ever wondered what it must have felt like for the Israelites at the close of the Old Testament? They had finally returned home. The books of 1 and 2 Chronicles had been written, recapping their long, winding story — the heights of kings and covenants, the heartbreak of rebellion, the exile, and now, the return. You would think it would be a purely hopeful time. The temple stood again. The walls of Jerusalem were rebuilt. The people were back in the Promised Land.
And yet… they were still living in deep, deep darkness.
Sometimes it feels like that for us too. We’ve seen the great Light — the Light who beckoned us to come, to believe, to follow Christ as Savior. The Light came into the world and inaugurated the kingdom of God. Emmanuel. God with us.
And yet… here we are, still walking through what often feels like deep darkness.
Advent has gradually grown to become one of my favorite seasons, but not primarily because of the fun, festivities, and cheerful sparkle (wonderful as they are). It’s because of the darkness. Just like coffee, or fine wine, or dark chocolate — it’s the bitter notes that make the sweetness shine.
The darkness amplifies our longing. It stirs up our need. It reminds us that the best promises are the ones still ahead. In these December days — short, cold, heavy with layers of clothing — I feel that anticipation of light and liberation all the more.
Solomon said there’s nothing new under the sun. Every era carries its shadows, but these days feel particularly dim. In our modern world we can thank the internet — a tool capable of spreading immense good, and yet in equal measure, immense evil. We’re no longer just aware of what happens in our homes, neighborhoods, or communities. Now we’re exposed to a global stream of everything happening everywhere, all at once.
But it would be irresponsible to blame the tool when the real problem lies beneath the surface — in the heart of the one using it. And that’s the unsettling darkness I feel pressing in these days… not the technology itself, but the reality of darkened hearts.
It’s easy to get exasperated when people ignore basic truth or simple decency. It’s easy to slide into despair when lies spread faster than logic, louder than wisdom. But should we really expect anything else? As John once observed: the people loved the darkness rather than the light because their deeds were evil. So as confusion rises and chaos thickens, let us remember: those who live by the truth come to the light (John 3:19–21).
And so we come.
The hard truth is that this battle is fought, and ultimately won, in the very darkest moments.
We come to the One who was born into the world one dark night in Bethlehem, wrapped in the helpless form of a baby. John promises that those drawn to this Light — and who follow Him — will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life (John 8:12). This Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it (John 1:4–5).
So dear friends, I don’t know what you’re walking through this Advent season. But if you’re noticing the darkness — and maybe feeling it a little too deeply — please hear this: As a follower of the Light, you do not need to fear the dark. Jesus has already overcome it. And He has called us into His light. Therefore, let us live as children of light (Ephesians 5:8).
How do His children of light live? Paul tells us: do all things without grumbling or disputing. How fitting for our age. Then he adds that we are to be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom we shine as lights in the world — by holding fast to the word of life (Philippians 2:15).
Remember who you are. You belong to the day, not the night (1 Thessalonians 5:5). So we take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness but instead expose them (Ephesians 5:11).
Jesus called us the light of the world — a city on a hill that cannot be hidden. Our light isn’t meant to be tucked away but to shine before others, so they may see our good works and glorify our Father in heaven (Matthew 5:14–16).
Christians aren’t passive bystanders. And yet, we are not quarrelsome warriors either.
We shine without grumbling.
We speak truth without spite.
We expose darkness without abandoning grace.
We contend for what’s right — not to win arguments but to glorify God.
This kind of light only shines from a fully armored Christian soldier living a life of constant prayer in the Spirit. It cannot be carried by the double-minded. It cannot be borne by the faint-hearted.
Because yes — the evil is real. The spiritual war for souls has eternal consequences.
The hard truth is that this battle is fought, and ultimately won, in the very darkest moments. Paul warns that the day of the Lord will not come unless the rebellion comes first. Throughout Scripture we see this same pattern: Pharaoh hardened his heart to the point of madness before deliverance came. Jezebel’s wickedness climaxed before God raised up Elijah. Goliath taunted Israel day after day until David appeared on the field. Haman exalted himself to the highest peak before he was brought low. Over and over we see it — darkness swelling before God shatters it.
And at the darkest hour of human history, when evil seemed to reign unchecked, Jesus accomplished salvation on the cross.
And it will be in the darkness yet again — the final, swelling rebellion — when Jesus will overthrow the enemy with the breath of His mouth and destroy him by the splendor of His coming (2 Thessalonians 2:8).
And as we look forward to Christ’s coming again, let us take a moment to meditate on the glorious promise found in Isaiah 9.
1 But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.
2 The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shone.
3 You have multiplied the nation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
4 For the yoke of his burden,
and the staff for his shoulder,
the rod of his oppressor,
you have broken as on the day of Midian.
5 For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult
and every garment rolled in blood
will be burned as fuel for the fire.
6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the increase of his government and of peace
there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
This Advent, if the darkness feels heavier, take heart: God’s promises shine brightest in the darkest places. Isaiah reminds us that the land of Zebulun and Naphtali — in northern Israel, among the first regions to face invasion and oppression — would not remain in despair. In His rich mercy, God promised to make a glorious way through the sea and Galilee, the very region where Jesus would later center much of His ministry. Those dwelling in darkness would finally behold a great light, the child — the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His throne would be established forever, and it is the zeal of the Lord of hosts that will accomplish it.
He will do it. His heart is zealous to fulfill this promise, and because of that, we have nothing to fear. The Light has come. The Light is with us. And the Light will come again.
So let us hold fast and not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap the harvest of His promises (Galatians 6:9).
Shine on!
