Advent is a season of holy waiting, of watching for signs of life in places that seem barren. Isaiah’s vision is extraordinary: the dry wilderness bursting into bloom, streams gushing through scorched ground, the weak made strong, and the fearful told,

“Do not be afraid.”

It’s the poetry of hope spoken into hard realities. Isaiah isn’t pretending the desert isn’t real. He’s telling us that even in the midst of the desert, God’s promise of renewal is already at work.

This week, I walked past a garden bed that looked lifeless with dry soil, a few brittle stalks. But tucked among the mulch was one tiny flower, defiantly blooming. I stopped and smiled. That little flower had no right to be there, and yet there it was, a whisper of beauty in an unlikely place.

That’s Isaiah’s message. God’s grace has a habit of breaking through where we least expect it.
Advent invites us to look again, to notice the small, stubborn signs that God’s restoration is underway.

Maybe it’s the courage of someone facing illness with quiet strong faith – as my friend Grace is demonstrating in Melbourne.

Maybe it’s laughter returning after grief.

Maybe it’s your own heart, learning to hope again.

So as we move through this week of Advent joy, let’s keep watch for the unexpected blossoms, the holy hints that even in our wilderness, God is still making all things new.

“Strengthen the weak hands,
and make firm the feeble knees.” — Isaiah 35:3

Blessings — Rev. Carmel