I’m moving into my third Advent as a pastor and truth be told, it still snuck up on me. Maybe you feel that too. One moment we’re pushing through the noise and cacophony of distractions vying for our attention and the next we’re lighting a candle and straining to hear once more the ancient invitation: ‘Wake up. Pay attention. Hope is on the way.’”

I’ll be honest — this year, like last year and, um, the year before, I’m entering the Advent season a little distracted, a little scattered and not nearly as prepared as I’d hoped I would be. Maybe you feel it, too. Under the circumstances of *all the things*, maybe we can be forgiven. Life in this AI-driven, tech-saturated, politically unstable world has coalesced into this constant barrage of noise, entertainment, worry and distraction. It leaves our attention spans thin and our hearts pulled in a dozen directions. Then add holiday expectations — presents, decorations, family, etc. Good luck. Perhaps this is why Advent is such a critical moment in the Church calendar, serving as a safe harbour on a perilous journey that constantly pushes us to keep sailing past the break wall.

At its core, Advent is a season of anticipation, hope and waiting… something we can only do if we slow down enough to notice it. One of the gifts Advent offers is space to admit what we all know deep down: the world isn’t as it should be, and we’re aching for things to be made right. When we’re swept away by all of the things, the practice of Advent asks us to stop pretending everything is fine or forcing ourselves into a festive mood when life circumstances simply don’t warrant it. Instead, it gives us permission to name the darkness honestly while anticipating the light that will one day extinguish it completely.

With that, I’m inviting all of us this season–perhaps myself most of all–to be mindful of the gift of Advent – don’t let it pass us by such that we suddenly wake up and it’s Christmas Day. Instead, slow down, breathe deeply and make room once again for the hope that has been quietly growing underneath *all of the things*.

Welcome to Advent 2025, friends. Shall we walk into this season with open eyes and open hearts, even as we still feel vastly unprepared and overwhelmed by *all of the things*? I think so.