Advent Through the Lens of Grief: Week One — Hope

Christmas is a tricky time for those in the midst of grief. Constant reminders of those we’ve lost who aren’t here to celebrate with us. How do you move past the pain and focus on the reason we celebrate the season when holiday grief makes everything feel heavier? This is where Christmas grief and Advent intersect—where longing and hope meet in the same breath.

A wise friend once advised me, in the middle of deep grief, to return to the traditions of my youth—the small practices that once brought comfort and helped me feel rooted. Nothing in Christian history is more traditional or more deeply tied to comfort than Advent. Observed for roughly 1,600 years, Advent has always offered God’s people a way to slow down, breathe, and anchor themselves in hope.

If you’ve heard the word Advent but didn’t grow up celebrating it, here’s a simple place to begin.

What Is Advent? A Simple, Hope-Filled Beginning

Advent is the season of anticipation that leads us toward Christmas—not the frantic, commercial countdown we often fall into, but a gentle invitation to pause, prepare, and pay attention. The word Advent means “coming,” and for centuries Christians have used these four weeks to remember two core truths:

Christ has come.
Christ will come again.

Each week centers on a theme—Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love—guiding us to reflect not only on the story of Bethlehem, but on the deeper longing in our hearts for God to put the world right. In a time that feels hurried and heavy, Advent calls us to slow down, notice God’s presence, and rest in promises that do not change.

Advent isn’t about pretending life is perfect. It’s about remembering that even in the waiting, even in uncertainty, God is with us. And that changes everything.

This week, we begin with Hope.

Hope — Light When the Night Feels Long

I have often written about my own struggle to find hope—whether traced back to depression, disappointment, or grief. So it feels perfectly fitting that Advent begins here.

Hope is the first candle we light, and there’s a reason for that. Advent doesn’t begin with celebration; it begins with longing. We acknowledge that the world is not as it should be, and neither are our lives. Before the angels sing or the shepherds rejoice, Scripture invites us to sit honestly in the darkness and whisper a prayer spoken for centuries:
“Come, Lord. We need You.”

Advent hope is not the same as optimism.
It isn’t positive thinking, pretending everything is fine, or ignoring our pain. Advent hope is something deeper—the steady expectation that God keeps His promises, even when we cannot see how.

For those waiting for the Messiah, hope meant trusting that God would send a Savior after centuries of silence. For us today, hope often looks like holding on with trembling hands when life has not unfolded the way we imagined, when sorrow lingers in the background of the season, or when our hearts feel too tired to sing the familiar songs.

But Advent reminds us of this:

Jesus came into the world because the world was dark—not in spite of it.
And He still steps into our darkness now.

The first candle is lit not because everything is bright, but because even the smallest flame defies the night. Hope tells us that God has not forgotten us. That He draws near to the brokenhearted. That His light is not fragile. And that one day every promise He has made will be fulfilled.

Hope is where Advent begins because hope is the spark that keeps us going.

Music Helps Us Heal During Christmas Grief and Advent

I have found music to be one of the gentlest sources of hope in seasons of grief. Music reaches places in us that words alone cannot. It gives voice to feelings we struggle to name. A single song can steady our breathing, ease anxious thoughts, and remind us that we are not alone.

During Advent—when hope can feel both beautiful and fragile—music becomes a companion in the waiting, helping us soften to the truth that God is near, even when the ache remains.

Song of Hope: “The Hope of Christmas” — Matthew West

As you focus on Hope this week, let the words of “The Hope of Christmas” bring comfort and truth to your heart. It’s a song that acknowledges how heavy this season can feel—and then gently points us back to the One who holds us together.

Excerpt:
“Take me back to eight years old
The little church on a dead end road
With a candle flicker in one hand
And Dad’s hand in the other…

These days peace on Earth is hard to find
And I need You to remind me one more time

You’re still the hope of Christmas
You’re still the light when the world looks dark
You’re still the hope of Christmas
And You’re still the hope of my heart.”

Reflection Questions

• What small “candle’s worth” of hope can you carry with you this week—something that reminds you God has not forgotten you?
• Where do you most need God’s hope to steady you right now?
• Which part of the song resonates with your own experience of grief or longing?

If this season is difficult, visit the resources section for practical help and faith-filled encouragement as you walk through your grief.