There’s something about waiting that undoes us.
We live in a world of instant everything—instant answers, instant results, instant relief. But Advent asks us to do something radically countercultural: to sit in the dark and wait. To light one candle at a time. To acknowledge that we are not yet whole, that the world is not yet restored, that we desperately need a Savior.
And it’s precisely in this posture—this humble, honest waiting—that inner healing becomes possible.
The Darkness Before the Dawn
Advent begins in darkness. The liturgical calendar acknowledges what many of us feel but rarely voice: the world is broken, and so are we. We carry wounds we didn’t ask for, patterns we can’t seem to break, pain we’ve learned to manage but never truly heal.
The beauty of Advent is that it doesn’t rush past this reality with cheap optimism or spiritual platitudes. Instead, it sits with us in the waiting room of our pain, whispering: Help is coming. The Healer is on His way.
This is where inner healing begins—not in pretending we’re fine, not in spiritual bypass, but in honest acknowledgment of our need. The prophet Isaiah captured this perfectly: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned” (Isaiah 9:2).
Notice the order: first darkness, then light. First acknowledgment, then transformation.
Making Room in the Inn
The Christmas story confronts us with an uncomfortable truth: there was no room for Jesus at the inn. The Savior of the world was born in a stable, among the animals, in the most humble circumstances imaginable.
How often do we do the same thing in our own hearts?
We fill every available space with activity, distraction, busyness, and noise. We pack our inner lives so full that there’s no room for the presence of God to enter and do His healing work. We’re so afraid of the silence, so terrified of what we might find if we actually slow down and look inward, that we keep the “No Vacancy” sign permanently lit.
Advent invites us to clear out space. To evict the tenants that have overstayed their welcome—fear, shame, unforgiveness, self-protection. To prepare room in the inn of our hearts for the One who comes to heal us from the inside out.
This preparation isn’t passive. It’s the active work of confession, of bringing our hidden places into the light, of saying, “Lord, here are the broken places I’ve been too afraid to let You touch.”
The Long Wait of Generations
Israel waited for centuries. Prophets spoke of the Messiah’s coming, but generation after generation lived and died without seeing the promise fulfilled. The wait must have felt unbearable at times. Did God forget? Was the promise even real?
Many of us know this waiting intimately. We’ve prayed for years for healing from trauma, for freedom from addiction, for restoration in relationships. We’ve cried out to God in the darkness, wondering if He’s listening. The wait for inner healing can feel endless.
But Advent reminds us that God is always working, even when we can’t see it. The four hundred years of silence between the Old and New Testaments weren’t empty—God was orchestrating empires, positioning people, preparing the world for the exact right moment. “But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son” (Galatians 4:4).
Your healing has a “set time” too. The waiting isn’t wasted. God is preparing you, positioning you, working in ways you can’t yet see. The darkness isn’t the end of your story—it’s the canvas on which God will paint His most beautiful work of restoration.
The Incarnation: God Enters Our Pain
The miracle of Christmas is this: God didn’t heal us from a distance. He didn’t send a manual or a self-help program. He didn’t shout instructions from heaven.
He came down and entered into our pain.
Emmanuel—God with us. Not God watching us, not God judging us, but God with us in the mess, in the trauma, in the broken places. Jesus was born in blood and fluid and vulnerability. He entered the world the same way you did—as a completely dependent infant who needed to be held.
This is how inner healing works. God doesn’t fix us mechanically from the outside. He enters into the painful memories, the traumatic moments, the places where we felt most alone—and He reveals that He was there all along. He meets us in the broken places and says, “I’m with you. You’re not alone anymore. Let Me carry this with you.”
The Incarnation is God’s ultimate statement about healing: transformation happens through His presence, not through our performance. Through encounter, not through trying harder.
The Hope of Advent: Already and Not Yet
Here’s the tension Advent teaches us to hold: Jesus has already come, and He is still coming. The Kingdom has already broken into our world, and it’s still being fully realized. We live in the “already but not yet.”
Inner healing follows this same pattern. The moment you encounter God’s presence and invite Him into your pain, healing begins. The old patterns start to break. The lies start to lose their power. You’re already being transformed.
But you’re also not yet fully whole. There are still layers to uncover, more areas that need His touch, deeper places that require His light. And that’s okay. Healing is both instantaneous and progressive. It’s both a moment and a journey.
Advent teaches us to celebrate what God has already done while keeping our hearts expectant for what He’s still going to do. We light candles in the darkness not because we’re still in darkness, but because we know the Light is coming—and each candle is a declaration that darkness doesn’t get the final word.
Your Invitation This Advent
As you light the Advent candles this season, let each one represent an invitation:
Week 1 – Hope: Acknowledge the darkness honestly. Name the places where you need healing. Don’t spiritually bypass your pain—bring it into the light.
Week 2 – Peace: Make room in the inn. Clear out the distractions and defenses that keep God’s presence at arm’s length. Prepare space for Him to enter.
Week 3 – Joy: Trust the process of waiting. Your healing has a “set time.” God is working even when you can’t see it.
Week 4 – Love: Invite Emmanuel into your pain. Let God meet you in the broken places with His transforming presence.
Christmas – Light: Celebrate what God has already done while staying expectant for what He’s still going to do.
The Waiting Is Worth It
The shepherds waited through the night. The wise men traveled for months. Mary and Joseph waited nine months for the promise to be fulfilled. Simeon and Anna waited their entire lives to see the Messiah.
And every single one of them would tell you: the waiting was worth it.
Your healing is coming. The Light is breaking through. The Healer is on His way.
And when He arrives—when you finally encounter His presence in those deep, hidden places—you’ll understand why Advent asks us to wait. Because the best healings, the deepest transformations, the most beautiful restorations can’t be rushed.
They have to be prepared for.
This Advent, don’t just wait for Christmas. Wait for healing. Wait for transformation. Wait for God to do what only God can do.
Light the candles. Sit in the waiting. Make room in the inn.
Emmanuel is coming.
And He’s bringing healing with Him.
What broken place in your life is God asking you to bring into the light this Advent? What would it look like to make room in the inn of your heart for His healing presence?
If you would like a guide to journey with you into Advent, download The Waiting Room—a 28-day devotional I created to walk alongside you as you acknowledge the darkness, make room in the inn of your heart, and discover that Emmanuel isn’t just “God with us” but God with you, meeting you in the broken places that need His healing touch.