Written by Joshua Brussel, Director of Middle School

Isaiah 40:3-5, Matthew 3:3, Mark 1:3-4, Luke 3:4

Nobody likes to wait. In fact, if you’re anything like me, you avoid it at all costs.

We pay extra for the fast lane. We upgrade to newer devices. We try to beat the time on our maps app. But although we don’t like the waiting, it still manages to find us. All of us are in some season of waiting. In small ways, commuters wait for the bus, kids wait for Christmas morning, and families wait for the pie to be done in the oven.

But waiting is also often a source of pain. Young adults wait to find a spouse, patients wait for a cure, parents wait for the return of a child. The list could go on and on.

Waiting often feels purposeless, unproductive and hopelessly unavoidable.

Yet, in a counter-cultural way, we choose to practice waiting during Advent. Journeying to Christmas, we enter into an intentional and conscious time of expectation. And by doing so, we mirror the people of Israel who waited generations for the coming of the Messiah. 

The Old Testament voice of Advent is the prophet Isaiah. Often, he received messages of warning. But, in Isaiah 40, the voice of judgment becomes a voice of comfort. Isaiah writes:

A voice cries:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD;
     make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
     and every mountain and hill be made low;
     the uneven ground shall become level,
          and the rough places a plain.
And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
     and all flesh shall see it together,
     for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” —Isaiah 40:3-5

 First, God reminds his people to wait with hope.

In the not-so-distant future, the Israelites would be punished for their disobedience. They would be forced to march through the desert, away from their family, home, and temple. Anticipating this painful season of waiting, Isaiah encouraged them with a hope-filled promise: God would not forget them. The waiting would not be forever. Instead, one day, they would be welcomed back to their land.

And God fulfilled the promise of return. After decades of exile, the Israelites reversed their journey, back to their home.

The Bible’s history encourages us to face our waiting with hope. God’s promises do not have an expiration date. As we move through the pockets of waiting in our life, God’s faithfulness always journeys with us.

Second, Isaiah 40 is an encouragement to wait by preparing.

The gospel writers identified John the Baptist as the voice in the desert (Matt. 3:3, Mark 1:3, Luke 3:4). Adorned with strange diet and wardrobe choices, John warned the people of Israel that the Messiah was finally coming. Therefore, God’s people were to prepare themselves rightly (Mark 1:4).

Each year during Advent, we observe this charge to prepare. We intentionally seek to make our hearts and homes ready to remember Jesus’ birth. Interestingly, all the preparation described in Isaiah 40:3-5 involves some kind of clearing. In a world that constantly advertises for additions, what do we need to intentionally subtract from our lives to make room to joyfully remember Jesus’ birth?

Finally, these Old Testament words of comfort invite us to wait expectantly.

Isaiah’s prophecy catches a glimpse of what is beyond the Jewish exile and John’s baptism. One day, Jesus will return, and “all flesh” will worship God. For believers, all earthly waiting finds its ultimate resolution in Christ’s return. We enter all seasons of waiting with this hope: the end of our story is written. Whatever the wait, this future reality fuels our present hope.

Our world seeks to photoshop waiting out of our lives, and this should not surprise us. Waiting without hope is simply painful. But as believers, are invited to wait differently. The promises of God allow us to upgrade our waiting to expecting. Where waiting simply looks down, expectation is oriented upward. 

We choose a posture of waiting throughout the season of Advent because of the hope of Christmas. And beyond Christmas, it is this expectant hope that allows us to endure through the waiting of this life.