Advent's Excitement

I imagine that Advent excites God.

Long before candles are lit, hymns are sung, or calendars are opened, I picture God leaning forward with the kind of eager joy a parent feels as a long-awaited birthday approaches. The season that marks the arrival of His Son — the hope, the healing, the homecoming of humanity — has always carried a holy thrill. I imagine He’s celebrated every Advent since that first one with the same love-soaked anticipation.

1) The First Advent
Since the fall of humanity, God had been tirelessly, tenderly trying to unlock the hearts of the people He cherished. Through centuries, Scripture reads like a tapestry of divine pursuit — protecting, nurturing, guiding, promising, revealing, pleading, encouraging, pushing, pulling, challenging, inviting. Every act whispered the same truth: I love you, and I want you back.

Every now and then, a heart turned toward Him — Abraham’s trust, Ruth’s loyalty, David’s devotion, Mary’s quiet yes. But something deeper, fuller, unprecedented was needed. A gift beyond prophets, kings, covenants, or commandments. In the heavenly council, the unthinkable became certain: the Son — the eternal Word who was with God and was God — would step into skin and story.

I imagine heaven erupting with the kind of anticipation that children feel on the edge of a great surprise. Angels rehearsed their lines. Stars took their places. Shepherds were unknowingly cast in a story far bigger than their fields. Hope began to hum beneath the surface of the world.

The Word would become flesh.
He would dwell among us.
Glory would finally be seen.
And the redemptive plan would turn a sacred page.

Because the best gifts are the ones lovingly prepared, creatively crafted, and joyfully delivered — gifts given not out of duty, but out of delight. That is what God did. Advent was heaven holding its breath so the world could finally breathe.

2) This Advent
And I imagine God is still excited — maybe even more than we are.

He sees families gathering, friends reconnecting, neighbors greeting one another a little more warmly. He sees generosity stirring in surprising places… people crossing divides… children whose eyes widen with wonder… adults remembering what wonder feels like. He sees forgiveness initiated, burdens quietly carried, unexpected moments of grace arriving like small miracles.

He also sees the pain that the season uncovers — empty chairs, tired hearts, quiet grief, unspoken loneliness. And I believe He draws especially near to these places. The tender God who wept over Jerusalem and stood by gravesides still weeps with those whose worlds feel dim or broken.

But even then, God remembers why the first Advent happened at all.
He remembers the gift He gave — not just for the joyful, but for the aching.
Not only for those who celebrate, but for those who can barely lift their heads.
He sent His Son so that all of us — every single one — could receive life, hope, welcome, and peace that this world cannot manufacture.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son.
This Advent, step into God’s excitement.
Welcome His hope.
Receive His Son again.

And let the wonder of His arriving — then and now — shape your heart in this holy season.