REFLECTION:

Using the image of a woman in labor, we are reminded that new life never arrives without preparation. When a woman is pregnant, there is an awareness that something life-changing is coming—and so everything slowly begins to shift.

A couple of weeks ago, my sister already started preparing for the birth of her fourth son. She’s been shopping for a stroller, setting aside diapers, and getting clothes ready. Even in their home, you can feel it—there is a quiet but intentional re-ordering of life. Space is being made. Schedules are adjusting. Hearts are preparing.

We even asked her younger son what he plans to do when his baby brother is born. Without hesitation he said, “I will help mommy with the baby.” But when I followed up and asked, “Even changing diapers?” his response was quick and honest: “Heck no—that’s mommy’s job.”

It’s funny—but it’s also revealing. Preparation doesn’t mean we know everything that’s coming, or that we’re ready for every responsibility. It simply means we are aware that life is about to change, and we begin—imperfectly—to make room.

And that awareness is something we can all feel right now. We are two days away from Christmas. There is a certain tension in the air. The roads are more crowded. Traffic is heavier. Parking lots are full. People are rushing to malls and shopping centers, trying to finish last-minute preparations. Everything feels compressed, hurried, and intense—much like the final days before a birth.

This is exactly the moment Scripture describes in Malachi. God announces that He is coming—not quietly slipping in, but arriving after a period of expectant tension. A messenger prepares the way. Hearts are invited to turn. What is impure is refined. Like labor pains, this preparation can feel uncomfortable—but it is purposeful.

Advent, like pregnancy, is not passive waiting. It is active preparation. God is about to be born into the world—and into our lives. The question is not whether He is coming, but whether we are making space for Him.

We may not feel ready to “change every diaper.” We may resist the harder parts of conversion. But God is patient. He invites us, step by step, to prepare our hearts—trusting that what is being born through this waiting, this tension, and even this discomfort, is new life.

Because when God comes, He doesn’t come to leave things the same. He comes to bring something new into the world—and into us.