Every year, the weeks leading up to Christmas Day can pass by us in a blur. We want Christmas to be meaningful and somehow special, but here is the thing: we spend a lot of energy on the wrong things, and we end up feeling rushed and stressed. Like Charlie Brown in the classic Christmas special, we wonder what Christmas is really all about. But we feel too busy and anxious to really explore that question.

When my son was young, and very into Legos, we had a Lego Advent calendar. Each day, he’d open a little door to reveal a tiny character or ornament to assemble. At the time, we were attending a mega church that ignored the liturgical calendar and barely gave a passing nod to the traditional practice of Advent, so I’m pretty sure my kids thought Advent was about Legos.

Maybe you’re the same: you figure Advent is just a countdown to Christmas, marked by calendars with prizes or chocolate. Or it’s one of those Catholic or other high church-y things that you don’t understand or even care about. But what if the weeks of Advent offer us something far better than chocolate or trinkets? What if you decided to be Advent-curious?

What if the secret to a more meaningful Christmas is to redirect our attention from our to-do lists to a simple practice of welcoming? By this, I don’t mean hosting your relatives or throwing yet another Christmas party. Rather, I want to invite you to slow down, to pay attention, and in this dark and dreary season, to welcome light into your heart each day.

I know some of you are in a season of uncertainty, of questioning your faith. The season of Advent declares boldly: yes, the days are short, dark, and cold, but the light is coming into the world. The Advent season doesn’t shy away from the uncertainty and doubt that is an authentic part of our journey. Simply acknowledging the darkness, and watching for the light (both physically and spiritually) is what Advent is all about.

We hope, even when things are bleak.

The traditional church calendar marks the four weeks before Christmas as the season of Advent. The word advent comes from the latin adventus, which means coming, or arrival. It marks both Jesus’ arrival long ago in Bethlehem, and his arrival into our hearts and lives. And isn’t God continually arriving, seeking our welcome?

For me, welcoming God is a daily practice, one I must continually renew. Advent also hints at Christ’s someday return to earth. It’s a reminder that while this life is hard, and in many ways a hot mess, the story is still unfolding, and we’re invited to be a part of it.

Advent coincides with the shortest, darkest days of the year. Where I live, the sun finally rises just after 7 a.m., but this photo shows you what “sunrise” looked like this morning, a day socked in with clouds, the trees bare and lifeless. The timing is deliberate: Advent is a season of looking for the light, or waiting and watching for hope.

The traditional Christmas hymn Joy to the World declares: “Let every heart prepare him room.” I’ve often pondered that line, especially when I need to “make Christmas happen” (words I have actually used) each year with food, gifts, and so on. What does it look like to prepare room for Jesus this Advent season? Maybe for starters, realizing how crowded my heart is right now–full of worry and uncertainty, shoved to the side because I’ve got to just get things done. How can I “prepare room” in my heart?

When I prepare our guest room for visitors, I make sure it it cleared of clutter. I take time to make it comfortable. It doesn’t need to be perfect—but it does need to have some space. What clutters my heart? What bitterness and unresolved pain lurks in the corners? Maybe preparing room in my heart begins with slowing down, and shedding unnecessary things, which is not easy because we’ve got so much to do and we’re already preoccupied with wondering if it really matters.

In a way, Advent provides an opportunity to practice hospitality. Not just for relatives and friends, but for Jesus, and for your own heart, which is crowded and cluttered. If you’re feeling a bit disconnected from the divine, if your faith is flagging, perhaps taking just a few minutes each day to welcome Love into your heart might help? As I’ve mentioned before, biblical hospitality is not about entertaining, but about welcoming the stranger. Maybe in your busy, frantic December, Love has become a stranger. Why not welcome Love back into your life?

What is the advent season? It is the four weeks leading up to Christmas in the liturgical year, a time of reflection and contemplation on four simple themes: Hope, Peace, Love, and Joy. On each of the four Sundays leading to Christmas, we light a candle representing one of these themes. But the gentle self-care this season allows are more important than candles or rituals.

Even if your church doesn’t light candles, or even if you don’t go to church these days, you can still tap into the season of preparation for Christmas that is not about impressing others, but rather, about connecting with Love.

If you’re finding yourself stressed and anxious, Advent offers peaceful reassurance–a recalibration of your faith and your focus. You may think you don’t have time for that–but if you take just a minute to pay attention to the longing in your heart for something true and meaningful, you’ll find that a simple Advent practice (taking five minutes to read or meditate or pray) might soothe your soul. Advent is a practice of welcoming: welcoming hope, welcoming Jesus. Maybe even welcoming yourself.

Advent looks back, and looks forward. We remember Christ’s birth, and also recalibrate our souls to welcome him into our world right now. We dare to believe he will come again.

What if the path to a meaningful Christmas season is right here, waiting for you? Not in curating the perfect meal or gift basket, but in taking just a few moments each day to center yourself and pay attention to what is right in front of you?

Adventus. Arrival.

What are you hoping will arrive in your life? What are you longing for, waiting for, hoping for?

Because our culture, steeped in consumerism, focuses on one day in the Christmas season, carrying with it the pressure to create a magical experience for our family, select just the right gift for everyone on our list, impress our relatives with a stunning meal–we find ourselves just trying to get through December. We get caught up in the mob, running toward we don’t know what.

So many of you feel anxious and uncertain–in part because of all that is going on in our world, but also you’re just trying to get a lot done. We are task-focused rather than love-focused, and it’s why we might feel sort of hollow or exhausted.

In a recent online conversation, I read comments like: “We never celebrated Advent. I don’t even know what it is.” For many people, even who grew up in church, Advent was about those paper calendars with little doors that revealed a tiny piece of chocolate or, I don’t know, a Lego.

Even if you didn’t grow up in a liturgical tradition where every week, another advent candle in the wreath was lit, where you focused on the traditional themes of Advent (Hope, Peace, Love and Joy), you can build a meaningful practice. Even though we are 11 days into Advent already, it’s not too late to ask, what is the Advent season and what can I do to tap into the hope that this season represents?

A simple practice: Set aside five minutes in the morning. Light a candle. Read a devotional or a Bible verse. Be quiet. Open your heart and welcome Love in. Carry the calm of those moments with you through your day.

P.S. If you liked this post, you might enjoy one of my trending posts (one which happened to get a few people mad), Your Nativity Scene Might Be Wrong.