What Christmas Really Promises
We’ve all heard it: "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light." It’s a beautiful line from Isaiah 9 that gets repeated during the Advent season. It paints a picture of celebration and victory, chains broken, oppression gone, wars ended. And the reason for all of it? "For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given."
But here’s the hard part: if the light has come, why does it still feel so dark? That’s not just poetic confusion. It’s a very real question that hits home; especially in December, a season that’s supposed to feel magical but can often feel the most hopeless. Loss seems sharper. Loneliness grows louder. Anxiety and disappointment press in.
So, what do we do with this tension? What do we do when Christmas feels like dusk, not daylight?
A Light Has Come, But the Darkness Hasn’t Gone Yet
The promise of Isaiah wasn’t just for the moment of Jesus’ birth. It was the beginning of something much bigger. Yes, Jesus came. Yes, He broke the chains of sin and started something radically new. But the full sunrise? That’s still to come.
As Clinton Manley puts it, “Advent is a season of groaning and gladness.” We celebrate Christ’s first coming even as we long for His return. This is the space we live in, the already and the not yet.
The Kingdom of God has dawned, but we still live in a world where addiction, oppression, grief, and conflict remain. Christ’s light broke through on that holy night, but the sun hasn’t fully risen. And until it does, we live with dusk-dimmed eyes, trying to navigate a world that still needs healing.
It’s Okay If You’re Struggling to See the Light
If this season is hard for you, you’re not alone, and you’re not broken for feeling that way.
Dusk and dawn are actually the most difficult times to see clearly. Think about it: even driving during twilight is tricky. The shadows play tricks on your eyes. The world looks confusing. It’s not fully night, but it’s not quite morning either.
So if you're having trouble seeing the light right now, that doesn’t mean the light isn't coming. It just means you're standing in that sacred in-between.
The Stars Are Still Shining
That’s why the lyrics of "O Holy Night" are so powerful:
“Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother. And in His name all oppression shall cease.”
Even before the sun rises, the stars are still there: pinpricks of light that prove darkness never fully wins.
And the Bible affirms this: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). Even from galaxies away, stars pierce the night sky. That’s what hope looks like in our hardest seasons: distant, sometimes dim, but undeniable.
How to Hold Onto Hope When You Feel the Weight
1. Name your pain.
God isn't threatened by your honesty. If you're grieving, anxious, exhausted, or angry—say so. Scripture is full of lament, not just praise.
2. Remember what’s already true.
Jesus came. He saw our suffering, stepped into it, and started something eternal. Your pain doesn’t mean the light is failing. It means you're still in the waiting.
3. Look for the light, even if it’s small.
A kind word. A quiet moment. A starlit sky. Hope often shows up in whispers, not in fireworks.
4. Anchor your hope in what’s coming.
Jesus will return. He’ll wipe away every tear. Sorrow and pain will be no more. That’s not a fantasy, it’s a promise.
Don’t Rush Past the Dusk
It’s tempting to want Christmas to feel instantly joyful. To jump from darkness to dazzling light. But maybe the power of Christmas isn’t in pretending everything is okay, it’s in recognizing that God came while things were still broken.
And He’s coming again. Until then, let’s be people who wait with dusk-dimmed eyes and hearts full of hope. Let’s be okay with the groaning and the gladness. Because even in the half-light, the stars are shining. And soon, the Son will rise.
