When Hope Interrupts: An Advent Invitation to See God at Work Where You Least Expect It

Can I be honest with you?

I don’t like change.

I definitely don’t like change that I didn’t initiate, don’t fully understand, or can’t prepare for. Most of us feel that. We like rhythm. We like predictability. We like control.

Which is why Advent is such a disruptive season.

Advent doesn’t just invite us to remember Christ’s coming—
Advent interrupts us with hope.

Hope, real hope, is never passive.
It pushes into the places we’ve settled.
It unsettles the areas we’ve grown numb.
It awakens longings we buried because disappointment felt safer than expectation.

Hope changes things — starting with us.

Mary & Joseph: The First Advent Interruption

If anyone understood the interruption of hope, it was Mary and Joseph.

Mary was living her quiet life in Nazareth when heaven broke in unannounced.
Joseph was preparing for a predictable future when God rerouted every plan he had made.

Neither of them asked for this.
Neither of them felt ready for this.
Neither of them knew how big this would become.

What they did know was this:

God was doing something, and it was going to change everything.

But here’s the wild part:
The world didn’t know it yet.

No one could see the cosmic shift happening behind the scenes.
No one understood that hope had slipped quietly into the margins.
No one realized that the interruption Mary and Joseph were navigating in obscurity would become the salvation story the whole world would cling to.

They were living in the middle of a hope that hadn’t fully revealed itself yet.

Their interruption became the world’s redemption.

What Advent Teaches Us About Hope

Hope rarely announces itself with clarity.
It often comes disguised as disruption, redirection, or holy discomfort.

Hope interrupts our expectations.
Hope interrupts our plans.
Hope interrupts the parts of us that stopped believing God could still move.

And Advent is the yearly reminder that God’s interruptions are never random— they are redemptive.

So Let Me Ask You: Are You Open to the Interruption of Hope?

Are you prepared for God to enter your story in a way you didn’t anticipate?

Are you willing to hope again—even if hoping feels costly?

Are you open to the possibility that what God wants to birth in your life might not look the way you expected…
but might become more than you ever imagined?

Maybe hope has felt like something from another season.
Something younger you believed in.
Something you’ve quietly let go of because disappointment felt easier than desire.

But Advent whispers this invitation:

Hope again.

Hope again for the “more” God wants to bring into your life.
Hope again for the joy He wants to restore.
Hope again for the fulfillment He wants to reintroduce into your world.
Hope again because Christ is near, and when Christ is near, nothing stays the same.

A Question for You:

So what if you assumed that God does want to interrupt your life in a way you didn’t see coming?

What if this is the year God steps in quietly—like He did in Nazareth—and begins something in you that will grow into more than you imagined?

Are you prepared for that?

What must you do to open your heart?
How would you cultivate a spirit that welcomes holy interruption?

Because if Advent teaches us anything, it’s this:

When God interrupts, He is not trying to unsettle you— He is trying to deliver hope to you.

So maybe this is the year you slow down long enough to be surprised again.
Maybe this is the year you stop bracing for disappointment and start living with expectancy.
Maybe this is the year you welcome Christ not only into the world… but into the places in you that desperately need hope.

Advent begins with a question, not an answer:

“Lord, where do You want to interrupt my life with hope this year?”

And here’s the promise behind that question:

If you open your heart, He will meet you there.