(Photo by Bruce / Starfish | CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Advent began a few weeks ago, and if we take the time, it’s a great season for reflection. Though it can be a struggle in the busy and crazy of the next few weeks, this time of preparation can refocus our hearts. I don’t know about you, but I am in great need of that these days. When I lit the first candle on our Advent wreath, I thought about what it represents: hope.

Some years, Christmases are easier than other years. You might be coming up on a first Christmas without a loved one. You may have just been laid off. Some are still working through a painful election result. Some might be facing the heartbreak of broken relationships. Whatever it might be, Christmas can highlight the sorrows we face in a joyful season.

We’d wait for my brother to arrive on Christmas Eve, but he usually didn’t show up. ... Before we went to bed, my mom always turned on the porch light so that he could find his way coming in from the dark.

When I think back to the Christmases over the years, I had some pretty great ones. The first Christmas after my father died, one of my father’s old buddies showed up at our house as Santa. He totally sold it, too, down to throwing stones on the roof to convince us that reindeer were up there. When we rushed to the door to see them fly away, it was as if they had disappeared! I mean, no trace of them. Now, of course, I’ve figured out that he was just hiding in the bushes, but to a preschooler’s imagination, it was magic.

As I got older, the Christmases that were clearer to me were clouded by the struggles of my brother. He couldn’t reconcile his faith in the church after my sister died. Instead, he had turned down the heartbreaking path of drugs. Try as she might, my mom was helpless to repair the brokenness. But she kept trying.

We’d wait for my brother to arrive on Christmas Eve, but he usually didn’t show up. So, we ate and opened presents without him. His presents were under the tree whenever he decided to come home. Before we went to bed, my mom always turned on the porch light so that he could find his way coming in from the dark.

And isn’t that the picture of hope? To this day, I still turn on the porch light on Christmas Eve. Those were grievous years for our family; this year may be grievous for others you know. Still, in dark times, I have hope in these words: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)

Hope means that we’ll keep trying to fix what’s broken. Let’s leave the light on for each other.