Waiting Better

The First Sunday of Advent

Advent begins each year with a familiar tension: we are invited to wait, yet urged to be alert, awake, and ready. Isaiah speaks of a world streaming toward the mountain of the Lord, learning anew how to walk in God’s light. Paul reminds us that “the night is advanced; the day is at hand.” And Jesus, in Matthew’s Gospel, cautions that we “do not know on which day the Lord will come.”

At first glance, these words sound urgent, even unsettling. But as Christians, we enter this season with a remarkable certainty: we do know the One for whom we wait. We know he has come before—into history, into our world, and into our own lives—and we trust that he will come again. Advent is not anxious waiting; it is confident, hopeful waiting. It is waiting that knows the light will come, even when we are surrounded by darkness.

So how might we “wait better” this year?

Perhaps it begins by allowing our waiting to shape us. Instead of filling our days with more distraction and noise, Advent invites us to make room—room for prayer, for quiet, for grace. Paul urges us to “put on the armor of light,” not as a defensive shield but as a way of living righteously and courageously in a world that often turns away from that light. We wait better when we choose patience over irritation, generosity over self-protection, and kindness over indifference.

Waiting better also means acting out of the confidence that Christ is already near. It means letting our daily choices reflect the faith we profess: an encouraging word offered, a burden shared, forgiveness extended quickly rather than withheld. Each small act becomes a sign that we are people of the dawn, not of the night.

This Advent, may our waiting be peaceful yet purposeful, quiet yet full of hope. And may we take even one small step toward the light each day—trusting that the One we await seeks us as much as we seek him.