Hope, Grit, and Grace

The air has turned crisp, and we have received our first big snowfall where I live. The last of the golden leaves cling to the branches, and the daylight fades earlier now. The end of November always feels like a threshold—a pause before we step into the glittering lights and holy hush of Christmas. For many of us as mothers, this season brings both longing and weight: the longing for peace and meaning, and the weight of expectations, memories, and the invisible labour that goes into making the season “special” for everyone else.

I’ve come to see this time as sacred ground—an invitation to prepare not just my home, but my heart.

As we move toward Christmas, Scripture offers us stories of women who also lived in seasons of waiting and preparation. Their lives were full of the same tensions we hold—beauty and brokenness, faith and fear, hope and heartbreak. Through their examples, we can learn to prepare for the coming of Christ with courage and intention.

1. Elizabeth: Preparing with Faith in the Silence

“After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. ‘The Lord has done this for me,’ she said. ‘In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.’”
— Luke 1:24–25

Elizabeth’s story begins in the quiet ache of unfulfilled longing. She and Zechariah had prayed for a child for years, long past the age when anyone expected a miracle. When God finally answered, Elizabeth withdrew into stillness. She didn’t rush to announce it or fill the silence with plans—she let the promise settle deep into her heart.

There is a sacred kind of preparation that happens in silence. For many of us, late fall holds its own hush—the garden is asleep, the days grow shorter, and our souls feel the pull to slow down. Yet silence can feel uncomfortable when our hearts carry disappointment, grief, or unanswered prayers.

Elizabeth reminds us that preparation isn’t only about activity—it’s also about trust. God often grows new life in hidden places, where we least expect it.

Reflection posture: Faith in the silence.

Questions to ponder:

Where in your life has God asked you to wait or trust in silence?
What promises or prayers have you tucked away, unsure if they’ll ever come to life?
How might you make space—physically or spiritually—for stillness this season?

Intentional practice:
Create a small Advent corner in your home. It doesn’t need to be elaborate—perhaps a candle, an open Bible, and a simple prayer card. Visit it daily, even for a few quiet minutes. Let this be your Elizabeth-space: a place to remember that God’s promises are gestating, even in seasons that seem still.

For me, a space of silence and slowing down came last weekend during a quiet drive home after an evening airport drop-off. It happened to be the day before the anniversary of my dad’s diagnosis—a sudden blood cancer that took his life just four months later, four years ago. I could feel the weight of grief building throughout the day. Instead of pushing through and attending an evening event, I let the tears come as I drove along the dark highway. I poured out my heart to the Lord, naming the ache and the longing.

When I got home, the heaviness slowly gave way to something gentler. I spent the rest of the evening with my three girls—painting our nails and trying on little clay mask samples that made us giggle the night away. It was a tender reminder that even in seasons of sorrow, God meets us with small pockets of joy.

2. Mary: Preparing with Surrender in the Unknown

“‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May your word to me be fulfilled.’”
— Luke 1:38

Mary’s story of preparation is one of breathtaking surrender. When the angel told her she would bear the Son of God, she didn’t fully understand—but she said yes anyway. Her “yes” wasn’t passive; it was a brave, wholehearted acceptance of God’s will in the middle of uncertainty.

So much of midlife—and motherhood—echoes Mary’s surrender. We’ve said yes to things we didn’t fully understand at the time: the stretching, the exhaustion, the unexpected turns our lives have taken. There are moments we feel the weight of the world resting on our shoulders, and yet somehow, we keep saying yes to love, to faith, to showing up.

Mary’s preparation wasn’t about doing—it was about becoming. She let God’s Word grow in her, literally and spiritually. And in doing so, she teaches us that the most faithful kind of preparation is yielded, not controlled.

Reflection posture: Surrender in the unknown.

Questions to ponder:

What new season, challenge, or calling is God inviting you to embrace with a “yes”?
Where are you trying to control what only God can carry?
How might surrender look not as resignation, but as trust-filled participation in God’s story?

Intentional practice:
This week, write a simple prayer of surrender. You might begin, “Lord, I don’t understand everything about this season, but I trust You. Help me carry what You’ve given with grace.” Place it somewhere visible—on your mirror, your planner, or your kitchen window. Let it become your whispered prayer through the bustle of December.

Control has always been my default. It can certainly be useful when managing the education, activities, and daily needs of six children—but in past Christmas seasons, I’ve let it take over. My drive for tasks and efficiency has sometimes squeezed the joy right out of our days.

This year, I’m choosing differently. I’m returning to a lesson that reshaped me years ago: present over perfect (thank you, Shauna Niequist!). As I prepare my heart for Christmas, I’m trying to release my grip a little—letting the season unfold with more grace, more presence, and more space for Christ to meet me in the middle of our very real, very imperfect life.

3. Anna: Preparing with Worship in the Waiting

“She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.”
— Luke 2:37–38

By the time Anna meets the infant Jesus in the temple, she has lived decades as a widow. Her story is one of faithful endurance—a lifetime of waiting, worshiping, and hoping for redemption. When the Messiah finally arrives, she recognizes Him instantly. Her years of devotion prepared her eyes to see what others missed.

Anna’s story reminds us that preparation is not just about doing things for God—it’s about staying with God. When life doesn’t go as planned, worship anchors us. It turns our waiting into communion.

As mothers, wives, and women walking through the complexities of midlife, we understand long seasons of waiting—waiting for clarity, healing, reconciliation, or rest. Like Anna, we are invited to worship through it.

Reflection posture: Worship in the waiting.

Questions to ponder:

What has been your “temple”—the place where you’ve met God again and again through the years?
How might gratitude and worship reshape your perspective this Advent?
Who around you needs encouragement from the hope you’ve carried through your own waiting?

Intentional practice:
Choose one worshipful rhythm to carry into December—a daily gratitude list, a walk while praying aloud, a candle lit each evening as you thank God for one small mercy of the day. Worship doesn’t have to be loud; it can be as gentle as faith that keeps showing up.

My space of worship may sound cliché, but I joined one of our church’s worship teams during the season when my dad was sick. It became a sacred place where I fought with faith and later learned to heal through grief. It still is…

Many days, after finishing our morning of homeschooling, I head to the piano while the children go upstairs to make lunch. I sing and often cry my way through chords as I prepare for the next time of communal worship. I’m grateful for this quiet corner where I can be alone with God, and then step back into connection with our team and our congregation—remembering together the hope we have in Christ.

Holding the Tension: Hope and Grit in the Same Breath

As we prepare for Christmas, it’s easy to romanticize the season—soft lights, cinnamon candles, the glow of nativity scenes. But if we look closely at the first Christmas, it was anything but easy. It was raw and real. A young woman gave birth in a stable. A husband faced fear and uncertainty. Shepherds stood trembling before angels. A king plotted violence against innocent children.

And yet, in the middle of the grit, glory was born.

The incarnation doesn’t erase the mess of our lives—it enters it. Jesus came not to sweep away our struggle but to redeem it from within.

If you feel stretched thin this year, or if grief lingers like a shadow over the season, remember this: the same God who whispered promises to Elizabeth, who overshadowed Mary with His presence, who met Anna in her long waiting—He is with you, too.

You don’t have to have it all together. You don’t have to manufacture joy. You only have to make room.

Three Simple Invitations for a Season of Preparation

Make space for stillness (like Elizabeth).
Before you rush into decorating and planning, take a morning—or even ten minutes—to be quiet before God. Ask Him what He wants to grow in you this season.
Say yes to God’s story (like Mary).
Identify one area of life where you sense God calling you to surrender control—maybe your schedule, your expectations, or even your sense of worth. Let your “yes” be your offering this Christmas.
Stay faithful in worship (like Anna).
Create a small daily rhythm of gratitude. Notice God’s presence in ordinary moments—in laughter, in a candle’s glow, in shared meals. Speak hope into the spaces around you.

Closing Reflection

As the frost begins to lace the windows, may we take a deep breath and remember that preparation isn’t just about doing—it’s about becoming.

May our homes be places where hope takes root, where grace is practiced in the middle of the mess, and where the legacy of faith is passed down not through perfection, but through presence.

“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her.” — Luke 1:45

May that blessing rest on you and your home this Christmas.

Photo by Erica Marsland Huynh on Unsplash‍ ‍

If you want to read more on the Christmas season topic, several years ago I wrote about some of my Christmas muddles and routines: A No-fuss Christmas—with 5 Questions!

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