Advent: The Struggle and Beauty of Waiting
This Advent season holds new meaning for our family. Right now, McKenna and I are in the hospital, praying and waiting for the hopeful arrival of our second daughter after McKenna’s water broke early. It’s not the kind of waiting we would have chosen, but it’s the kind we’ve been given.
While sitting in the hospital chapel earlier this week, praying for McKenna, our daughter, and our little family, I noticed the Advent candles lit on the altar. Their glow caught my attention, and I was reminded that Advent is a season of waiting. Those candles represent hope, faith, joy, and peace—all the things we cling to when waiting feels heavy. In that quiet moment, I found a new perspective: this season of waiting isn’t without purpose.
Advent is all about waiting—waiting for light in the darkness, waiting for hope in the midst of fear, waiting for promises to be fulfilled. For centuries, God’s people longed for the Savior, enduring pain, silence, and uncertainty as they trusted that God’s timing would not fail.
Waiting isn’t easy. It’s uncomfortable, it’s uncertain, and it often feels like it stretches you beyond what you can handle. McKenna and I are living in that tension right now. We are waiting and praying for weeks to pass, for our little girl to grow stronger, and for the day we finally get to meet her. The waiting feels fragile, and some moments are heavier than others.
But this is where Advent gives us hope. It reminds us that waiting is not wasted. In the waiting, God is present. In the waiting, He is preparing us for the joy that is to come. It’s in the waiting that we grow, even when it’s painful, because we learn to trust Him more deeply.
Mary understood this kind of waiting. She carried the Savior of the world with fear, pain, and anticipation. She knew the struggle of waiting for a promise to unfold, and she also knew the overwhelming joy of its fulfillment.
At Hard Faith, we believe in telling stories that face the brokenness of this world honestly, while pointing to the hope that never fails. Advent is a story like that. It’s a season that reminds us that our struggles, our fears, and even our pain have meaning because they’re held by a God who is faithful.
This season, as McKenna and I wait for the birth of our second daughter, we’re leaning into that truth. We’re holding onto the promise that even in the tension, God is at work. And as we wait, we’re reminded that the joy of what’s to come will make every moment of uncertainty worth it.
Wherever you are this Advent season—whether you’re waiting with hope, waiting with pain, or waiting with questions—may you know that God is with you. Emmanuel means “God with us,” and that promise is true no matter how long the waiting feels.
Please keep us in your prayers during this season. Pray for McKenna’s strength, for our daughter’s health, and for peace as we trust God with the days and weeks ahead.
Telling stories that liberate,
Spencer Folmar
Very well said!