Advent Devotional
Advent invites us to mark time differently.
While the world rushes toward the end of the year, we begin again with a single spark: a candle lit in hope. This season helps us slow down, breathe deeply, and pay attention to the light God offers in our ordinary days. Each week our staff will offer scripture, a short devotional, some reflection questions, and a simple breath prayer to steady your spirit. Try reading by some form of light—a candle, a fireplace, patio lights, or the soft glow of morning. Let the light become part of your practice as together we long for it, prepare for it, carry it, and share it this season.
Week Three: The Light We Carry
Shelley Regan, Director of Community Engagement - December 14, 2025
Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the Lord God is my strength and my might. Isaiah 12:2
My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. Luke 1:46–49 (NRSV)
When I was a little girl, I loved evening walks with my Poppy Don. He would hand me a small flashlight that I would swing across the path, enchanted by sparkling gravel. The world around us stayed dark, but the circle of light I carried was enough to make me feel brave, and beyond its glow I trusted my grandfather would guide the way.
Lately, the world feels heavy and dark in ways that have caught me off guard. My footing feels less sure, and the path ahead less clear. I’m trusting the wisdom of Barbara Brown Taylor: "If you are willing to let your eyes adjust, you can learn things in the dark that you could never see in the light."
As I reflect on the season that is supposed to feel "merry and bright" but feels less sparkly this year, I return to those childhood walks with only the glow of the flashlight. I wonder what those memories illumine about Mary’s courage and my own? What can I learn in this season that feels a little darker than I prefer? Her world was turbulent, her future unclear, her voice dismissed by those in power. Yet she sang. She trusted the quiet glow of God's presence growing inside her, even when she could see only a few steps ahead.
Her song, the Magnificat, was not a whisper but a declaration: God scatters the proud, lifts up the lowly, fills the hungry with good things.
Mary teaches us that two things can be true at once. Life can feel dark and God can still be doing something beautiful within us. We can feel powerless and still carry a voice that matters.
As a person who is impacted by the shorter days and longer nights, I must remind myself – the light always returns. The author Katherine May says it best: “we survive winter not by blazing through it, but by tending small lights.” Even when the world tries to diminish the light we carry, our hope and our next faithful step can be enough to push back darkness. Like Mary, we don't need to see the whole path. We just need to trust the light within us. The little glow we carry will see us through.
Reflection Questions
How is light being born in you, even now?
What does it mean for you to trust the light you carry?
Breath Prayer: Inhale Holy One, your light in me Exhale Is enough for today
Week Two: The Light We Prepare For
Rev. Dr. John Regan, Executive Minister - December 7, 2025
The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
Luke 3:4–6 (NRSV)
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, John the Baptist was preparing the way for the Light of the World—Jesus Christ. What will this light be like? Luke quotes moving words from Isaiah: "every valley shall be filled, every mountain and hill shall be made low…and all flesh shall see the salvation of God."Like John the Baptist, we are aware of the darkness in the world. Poverty, hunger, and violence are stubborn reminders that history moves not in simple progression toward perfection, but through cycles of trial and error, growth and recession, building up and breaking down. The Christian experience and the memory of the Church teach us there is no golden age to recover. There is only the option of moving forward together in faith, clearing away what obstructs hope so that light can break through.
For those of us who live above the equator, Advent marks the longest nights and shortest days of the year. We go to work and school in darkness and return home in darkness. Lighted parking lots and streetlights help, but they are not the same as the sun—the light that nurtures us and all living things.
In Advent we rediscover our deep hunger for illumination. The light of moral clarity to make choices good for us and for our neighbors. The light of hope to lead us away from boredom and despair. The light of courage to love those we struggle to like, to engage with those who frighten us, and to turn from the cynicism that paralyzes us toward the action that sets us free and gives us purposeful joy.
This is the light we prepare to see. The light of Jesus Christ comes not like a laser beam or lightning bolt, but in the flicker of candles gathered together in a dark place.
Reflection Questions:
Where in your life are you most hungry for illumination right now?
What habits or expectations could you release to clear space for God’s light?
Breath Prayer: Inhale Make space within me Exhale Let Your light grow
Week One: The Light We Long For
by Rev. Mark Taylor, Minister of Faith Development - November 30, 2025
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day. Genesis 1:1–5 (NRSV)
One of my favorite things in life is a fire. I love to light candles at the dinner table, sit by the fireplace, or enjoy a cozy night on the patio with my chiminea. There is something grounding about the light of the fire. It holds the space when the world feels chaotic. It’s an invitation to find peace in the moment regardless of what else is weighing you down.
Perhaps that’s why Christmas lights are among my favorite decorations. Seeing those simple lights shimmering in the night sky, shining on the tree or outlining the roof is a moment of peace and comfort for me (and I suspect maybe for you too).
We’re all longing for something this holiday season. Have you found it yet? We’re longing for the comfort of home that is found when we give ourselves permission to simply be – when we allow ourselves to be present in the moment and let go of all the things we “should be” doing. That’s the invitation of the light: to be in the light, to enjoy the fire, to drive around and look at Christmas lights. I think we’re longing for the light – the physical AND the spiritual light of Christmas.
Meta Herrick Carlson puts it this way: “We light a candle to remember it doesn’t take much. A small flame can make shadows dance and eyes twinkle, casting a warm glow on those we love.”
When God began creating the world, light was at the top of the list. God saw that the light was good. Perhaps even God longs for the light.
There is a lot going on in the world around us. This Advent season, I’m looking for those dancing shadows; I need the warm glow from that simple flame. So, I’m going to lean into the invitation of the light. I’m going to light more candles. I’m going to linger by the fire. I’m going to do my best to be present, anchored by the light.
Perhaps you’ll join me.
Reflection Questions:
Where do you feel the deepest longing for light in your life right now?
How might you welcome even a small flicker of hope into a place that feels shadowed or uncertain?
Breath Prayer: Inhale Light of God Exhale Come to me