Week 2: Delighting in the Advent of Christ

Love’s Pure Light

The night’s silence broke open as a familiar cry echoed through the darkness. Startled awake and eyes barely open, I made my way toward the sound. Hunger had pulled her from sleep, and each cry expressed a deeper ache. Only I could answer it. I gathered my little one in my arms and offered the love and comfort she craved as I gently rocked and nursed her back to sleep. The stillness returned. All was well in her world and mine once again.

Those nights of mothering are far behind me now. My children have all grown and some are married, yet I still remember that long season of sleeplessness. I often went to bed praying that this would be the night each little one slept soundly until morning. I longed for a silent night, and I prayed that the dawning light of day—not a midnight cry—would be my wake-up call.

Whether we are mothers or not, we all know what long nights feel like. Nights marked by sleeplessness, deep longings, and unanswered questions. Nights when God’s voice seems distant, His comfort is desperately desired, and our hearts ache simply to feel safe and secure. We wait for daybreak—for light to pierce the darkness—yearning for God to make Himself known in the places where we feel empty or undone.

As the lyrics of Silent Night remind us, God did exactly that on a silent night long ago in Bethlehem:

Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth,
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.

In a quiet town, in a lowly stable, the silence was shattered as Love’s Pure Light pierced the darkness. Hope was born. Jesus entered the world as a baby born of a virgin, conceived by the Holy Spirit. God sent His Son to remedy the sin of mankind, to offer a way back to Him, to be our salvation. Love broke through the cold, the dark, and the ache. God’s love came for us. Light entered the world, and the dawning of a new day had begun.

Luke 2:8–11

8 Now there were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. 10 Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. 11 For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

This silent night was interrupted by heavenly glory. God’s love broke into the darkness of spiritual winter and the weight of sin, ending four hundred years of silence. Love’s Pure Light had entered the world!

A baby’s cry became heaven’s declaration:
I’m here. I love you. I’ve come for you.
And nothing would ever be the same.

Just as I went to my little ones long ago when I heard their cries, God hears ours. He had a plan from the very beginning. He knew He would send His Son to be our Savior. Jesus came. He didn’t shuffle down a hallway; He descended from heaven’s throne wrapped in human flesh, fully Man and fully God, born of a virgin. His throne was first a manger and then the cross. On that silent night in Bethlehem 2000 years ago, He came to meet the deep spiritual needs only He could satisfy.

When we reach out to Him in faith, He gathers us in His arms, holds us close, and meets every ache of our longing hearts—today and for all eternity.

Prayer

Lord, You hear my cries. You are not a far-off God; You came close. Thank You for sending your Son, Jesus, into the darkness of humanity. Thank You for always having a plan for my redemption. Some nights still feel silent and heavy, yet I know You are with me. Love’s Pure Light always shines in the darkness. Shine the light of truth, love, and hope into my weary and broken places. You alone are the dawn of redeeming grace. That silent night two thousand years ago reminds me today that You see, You hear, and You come to your people.
In Jesus’ name, amen.