As we prepare to enter into the presence of the Prince of Peace, take a few moments to settle your thoughts, your heart, and your body.

Take a few deep breaths and release any anxious thoughts that are competing for your attention today.

As you breathe, inhale with the words “Your Light…”

And exhale with the words, “Brings me Peace.”

Let each breath soften your shoulders, unclench your hands, and open your heart.
Rest in the presence of the God who draws near.

Today’s scripture reflections come from the prophecy of  Isaiah. Let’s read it slowly as we reflect on the powerful promises it holds.

These passages hold the promise of God’s holy Light. Something  we all long for. However, this promise is for those who walk in darkness…those who find themselves in the place of the dead. In order to receive this promise, first we must admit that we are those people.

Advent is a season of holy honesty.
It admits what we would rather hide: we live in darkness, and darkness lives in us.
But Scripture does not shame this truth—
it assumes it.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great Light.
The promise of God’s Light is not given to those who have mastered holiness or banished shadows.
It is given to the ones who know they need illumination.

This sets before us two Advent pathways.

The way of Herod is the instinct to preserve ourselves, to tighten our grip, to secure control when the darkness feels threatening.
Herod feared losing power; he feared the unknown; he feared the possibility of being replaced.

His peace was built on domination, suspicion, and the illusion that if he could remove the threat, he could rest.
It is a way many of us slip into without noticing—
trying to manage our anxieties by clutching harder, planning more frantically, or silencing anything that feels out of control.
It offers a false peace, fragile and violent, because it demands that nothing disturb us.

The way of Jesus is altogether different.
He enters the world not armored but vulnerable.
Not as a ruler conquering darkness, but as a baby shining light from within it.
Jesus reveals that God’s response to the world’s darkness is not to overpower it, but to inhabit it with humility and love.
Peace does not come from eliminating threats, but from entrusting ourselves to the Father,
from admitting our shadows,
from surrendering our need to appear strong.

Paradoxically, the pathway to peace begins with confession:
We cannot save ourselves.
We cannot out-plan, out-muscle, or outsmart the darkness.
But when we stop pretending, when we exhale our fear and open our hands,
God’s tender mercy dawns upon us.
The Light rises—not on those who have everything under control—
but on those who sit in the shadow of death and dare to lift their faces.

Jesus is Peace not because He prevents us from ever encountering darkness,
but because He joins us in it.
And when we choose His humble way,
we find a peace deeper than control—
a peace rooted in Presence, not power.

Take a few moments to get real in the presence of the Prince of Peace. Admit to him your darkness. The shadows that seem like they are creeping in.  Let your answers be gentle and honest. There is no pressure—only invitation.

• Where do I feel the darkness in or around me right now? Can I acknowledge it without trying to fix it?
• In what ways am I tempted to respond like Herod—seeking control, self-protection, or the illusion of certainty?
• How might admitting my darkness actually open space for God’s Light and peace?