Advent Devotions

God Is Love

1 John 4:7–12

"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God… This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him."

Love is not just something God does—it is the very essence of who God is. God is love. And this love is not abstract or sentimental; it took on flesh in Jesus Christ. When God sent His Son into the world, it wasn’t merely to give us a good example or a set of teachings—it was to show us what love looks like.

At Christmas, we celebrate that love came down to dwell among us. God’s love is sacrificial, unconditional, and deeply personal. It moves first. It gives without expecting in return. And it invites us to live in that love—not just to receive it, but to pass it on.

This love isn’t always easy or convenient. It’s not dependent on how we feel. It often calls us to stretch ourselves, to forgive when we’re hurt, to welcome when it’s uncomfortable, and to serve when we’re tired. But when we love like this, we reflect the heart of God to the world.

Imagine a stained-glass window in a church. When it's cloudy outside, you see dull outlines and muted colours. But when the sun shines through, the window glows with beauty—it comes alive.

We are like those windows. On our own, we may appear ordinary or even broken. But when God’s love shines through us—when we choose to love others selflessly, faithfully, and with grace—something beautiful happens. Others don’t just see us—they catch a glimpse of God.

Prayer:

God of love, thank you for loving me first. Let me live today rooted in your love. May I be a window through which your love can shine into the world. Help me to love, not just in words, but in truth and action. Amen.

Advent Devotions

Good News of Great Joy

Scripture:
"But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.'" — Luke 2:10–11 (NIV)

Reflection:
In the quiet fields outside Bethlehem, heaven broke into earth. A sky full of angels announced the arrival of joy—not just for a chosen few, but for all the people. The shepherds, the poorest and most overlooked, were the first to hear. That’s God’s way: joy comes not by climbing upward, but by kneeling low.

The joy the angels announced wasn’t based on changing circumstances but on an unchanging truth: “A Saviour has been born to you.” Joy enters the world not through ease or riches, but through the nearness of God Himself in Jesus.

Illustration:
Imagine standing in darkness, your path unclear. Suddenly, a voice calls your name—and then a light turns on. Not a floodlight to show everything at once, but enough to know you're not alone. That’s what the shepherds experienced. That’s what joy does. It doesn’t erase every question but it assures us that God is here—with us, for us, one of us.

This is still our joy today: the good news hasn’t changed.

Prayer:
Lord, help me hear Your good news afresh.
Let the announcement of the angels echo in my soul today.
Where I feel distant, draw near.
Where I feel weary, shine with joy.
Thank You for sending Jesus, joy in human form. Amen.

Advent Devotions

Joy Made Complete

Scripture:
"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love... I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete." — John 15:9–11 (NIV)

Reflection:
Jesus offers a joy that doesn’t run dry. It’s not shallow like the world’s happiness, which depends on how things are going. Instead, it’s a joy rooted in His unchanging love—a joy that abides, even when life is uncertain.

Jesus says, “Remain in my love.” Not just visit it occasionally or glance at it in passing—but live in it, stay connected to it. Like a branch drawing life from the vine, we are invited to draw joy from Christ’s love. His joy is not something we have to manufacture or earn—it’s a gift, poured into us when we abide in Him. This is joy made complete: not half-formed or temporary, but rich, full, and sustaining.

Illustration:
Imagine a lamp in a dark room. The bulb is ready, the switch works—but it can’t shine unless it’s plugged in. It looks complete, but without connection to the power, it cannot fulfil its purpose. We are the same. We may look the part, say the right words, even serve with good intentions. But unless we’re abiding in Jesus—truly rooted in His love—we miss the joy He longs to give us. Once we reconnect, the light returns. His joy becomes our strength, and we shine.

Prayer:
Dwell in me, Lord Jesus, so that Your joy may live in me and mine may be complete.
Teach me to abide in Your love each day, and fill my life with joy that overflows into the lives of others. Even in moments of weariness or waiting, let me draw deeply from Your gladness. Amen.

Advent Devotions

Joy in the Darkness

Scripture:
"Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines... yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Saviour." — Habakkuk 3:17–18 (NIV)

Reflection:
Habakkuk’s words are a powerful declaration of defiant joy. He surveys a landscape stripped bare—no crops, no livestock, no visible blessings—and yet, from the ruins, joy rises. This is not denial. It’s faith.

Advent teaches us to rejoice before the harvest comes. Like the prophet, we look toward God not just for what He gives, but for who He is. When everything else fails, God remains faithful. And that is cause for joy.

Illustration:
A gardener once shared how her most vibrant flowers came not from rich soil, but from ground that had endured drought. “The roots learned to go deeper,” she said. “That’s why they survived.” In spiritual drought, our joy roots deeper—not in ease, but in endurance.

Prayer:
Let joy take root in me despite the drought.
Teach me to rejoice not in what I see, but in who You are.
You are my strength, my Saviour, my song. Amen.

Advent Devotional

The Joy of the Watchers

Scripture: "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, 'Your God reigns.'" — Isaiah 52:7 (NRSV)

Reflection:
Joy is not just for those who receive good news—it’s also for those who share it. Isaiah paints a vivid picture: the watchmen on the city walls lift up their voices and sing for joy as the messenger approaches with news of peace and salvation. The exiles will return. God is at work. The kingdom is near.

We, too, are watchers—and messengers. Advent invites us to be people who look for signs of God's work and speak hope into a weary world. It’s not always easy; joy may not feel natural in a broken world. But God’s messengers carry a deeper joy—anchored not in circumstances, but in the truth that “Your God reigns.”

Illustration:
A missionary once told of delivering Bibles to a remote village. As he approached, the villagers ran to meet him—not because he brought supplies or medicine, but because he brought the Word of God in their own language. One woman kissed the Bible and whispered, “Now we know He speaks our language.” For that village, the messenger’s feet were truly beautiful.

Prayer:
Fill my voice with your glad tidings, Lord.
Make me a watcher who rejoices and a messenger who brings hope.
Let my life speak the good news: our God reigns. Amen.

Advent Devotions

Mary’s Song - Joy breaks out in praise, not circumstance

Mary had every reason to be overwhelmed—unexpected pregnancy, social stigma, uncertainty about the future. But when she arrives at Elizabeth’s home, something profound happens. Instead of sorrow or anxiety, joy erupts—first in Elizabeth's spirited blessing, and then in Mary’s song of praise.

This is not joy based on comfort, clarity, or control. This is joy rooted in God’s faithfulness.

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour...”
(Luke 1:46–47)

Mary’s song is a revolutionary anthem. It declares that God lifts up the humble, fills the hungry, and keeps promises. Her joy is not naïve—it’s prophetic. It sees beyond her current situation to the Kingdom that is coming, already stirring within her.

Joy, here, is not the absence of hardship. It is the presence of hope.

A chaplain once visited a care home during Advent and met an elderly woman confined to her bed, her sight failing and her family far away. He expected sorrow—but instead, she beamed with joy. When asked how she stayed so cheerful, she whispered, “Every morning I sing the Magnificat—out loud if I can, in my heart if I can’t. It reminds me that God is still turning the world upside down. Even here.”

Her joy didn’t come from her surroundings—it came from her Saviour

As you journey through Advent, what song are you singing?
Is it shaped by the headlines or by the hope of Christ?
Is your joy waiting for everything to feel right, or does it spring from the deep well of God’s promises?

Let Mary’s Magnificat be your own. Sing out—not because life is easy, but because God is good, faithful, and near.

Prayer

My soul magnifies you, O God!
In my waiting and in my worry,
in my weakness and my worship—
let your joy be born in me.
Lift up the lowly parts of my heart.
Let your promise live in me.
Amen.

Advent Devotions

Today’s Theme: Joy in the Waiting

Scripture: “Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” – Psalm 30:5

Well might we pray, “Lord, let your joy be my strength.”

Advent is a season marked by waiting—waiting in darkness, waiting for hope, waiting for the promised light. Psalm 30:5 captures that tension with aching honesty: “Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

We know the night. We’ve sat in hospital rooms and stood at gravesides. We’ve waited on phone calls that never came, answers that never arrived, changes that felt endlessly delayed. The psalm doesn't pretend the night doesn’t exist—but it also doesn’t let the night have the final word.

During World War II, a group of prisoners were being transported by train through the Alps. The journey took them through a long, dark tunnel. As the train entered the tunnel, the carriage fell silent. One child began to cry in the darkness.

But suddenly, the voice of his father cut through:
"Don’t worry—my hand is still here."
The boy grabbed it and grew quiet, comforted not by the light, but by the presence that promised the light would return.

Advent reminds us that we are not alone in the tunnel. God’s hand is still here, even when morning feels far off. Joy may not come on our schedule, but it does come. That’s the rhythm of resurrection, of Christmas morning after a dark night in Bethlehem.

So we wait—not without tears, but with hope. And hope, in Christ, always bends toward joy.

Lord, let your joy be my strength. In the waiting, remind me that your morning is on the way. Hold me through the night, until joy rises like the sun. Amen.