Start the Week Anchored in Hope

Brothers,

December hits different.

The world is already blasting Christmas music and stringing lights, but a lot of us are walking into this month feeling heavier than last year. Maybe the bank account is tighter, the marriage is quieter, the kids are growing faster than we’re ready for, or we’re just bone-tired from carrying 2025 on our backs.

Advent starts today. It’s four weeks of waiting. Four weeks of remembering that the people who walked in darkness once saw a great light—and that Light is still coming for us.

Scripture

Isaiah 9:2, 6-7 (NIV)

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned… For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.”

Reflection

I love how Isaiah doesn’t sugar-coat it. He calls it what it is: deep darkness. Not mild disappointment. Not “kinda rough.” Deep darkness. That’s where most of us live a decent chunk of the year.

It’s the kind of darkness that wakes you up at 3 AM, staring at the ceiling and wondering if you have what it takes to lead your family. It’s the silence when you pray and feel like your words are hitting the drywall. It’s the grit of just showing up to work, to church, to the dinner table, when everything in you wants to check out and numb the pain.

And right there—in the middle of that mess—God says, “Light’s coming. My Son is coming.”

This week, Advent invites us to do one simple, stubborn thing: refuse to pretend the darkness isn’t real, but also refuse to act like the Light isn’t already on the way. We aren’t waiting for God to show up; we are waiting to see Him more clearly.

Action Point

Pick one area where the darkness feels heaviest right now—finances, loneliness, anger, doubt, whatever. Write it down. Then under it write Isaiah 9:2.

Carry that scrap of paper in your pocket or tape it to the dash of your truck. Every time the weight creeps back in, read it out loud. Tell the darkness the Light has already won. Tell it the Child has already been born.

Prayer

Father,

We’re tired. Some of us are barely hanging on. But You saw us in the darkness long before we noticed You. Thank You for sending Jesus—the Light no shadow can put out. This Advent, open our eyes again. Give us stubborn hope that laughs at the dark because the Dawn is coming. Hold us tight until we see Him face to face.

In the strong name of Jesus,

Amen.

Stay anchored this week, men.

The Light is closer than you think.

- humble