Love That Comes Near

“We love because He first loved us.” — 1 John 4:19

“What the world needs now is love, sweet love. It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of.”
— Burt Bacharach and Hal David

We are made for love. It’s “the oxygen of life,” as my late mentor Peter Benson used to say. When we breathe in love, we can exhale love, and that cycle is what brings about good in human life. But, as the artists point out, there’s too little of it. And I would add, although God’s love is there for us, we often are too preoccupied to perceive it.

Although God’s love is there for us, we often are too preoccupied to perceive it.

Somehow, we manage to live in ways that keep us aching and longing for love. Humans are restless creatures. Psychology helps us understand that unless we “train our brains,” humans have a tendency for discontent. We can be overly on alert, have a natural negativity bias, crave dopamine hits, and have increasingly fractured attention. These unchecked tendencies leave us longing.

A Season to Consider Our Longings

In our world of escalating complexity, we live lives of misplaced loves, where we’re taught and tempted to crave productivity, popularity, and perfection. We misappropriate our energy chasing these things that “dose” us with dopamine, but they don’t ultimately satisfy us. We can’t buy enough, text enough, accomplish enough to ease the ache for love and connection. So we work at it. We hustle and try to make progress, and then we still find ourselves longing for something more. Advent provides a time to consider our longings. I want to invite you to think about what you are truly longing for in this season. What might it mean to reorder our loves in ways that bring more peace and joy?

Jesus gave us clear directions about loving rightly. He said to love God and love our neighbors as we love ourselves. This teaching was the heart of his ministry. It was a radical notion at the time, and contrary to the kind of justice that the leaders of his faith tradition were offering during his life. In loving God in Jesus’ radical way, we find peace, hope and joy. Yet, even as our hearts desire closeness with God, we are often left feeling achy.

St. Augustine named our longing for love centuries ago: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

The mystery at the heart of Advent—and the true gift of Christmas—is that love isn’t distant. The Incarnation we celebrate is God taking on flesh and entering our mess. Emmanuel means God with us. God didn’t abandon his creation—he longs to be with us, and is lingering and waiting for us to respond.

The mystery at the heart of Advent—and the true gift of Christmas—is that love isn’t distant.

Reordering Our Longings

What if our longings aren’t flaws to fix but provide a compass pointing us home? 1 John reminds us: We love because He first loved us. That’s a reordering. Love starts with God, not us. God made the first move when he entered into the world as a baby in a manger. And in allowing ourselves to be loved by God, we are able to love God, love our neighbor, and even love ourselves.

Advent challenges the checklist mentality of gifts to get and gatherings to get to. Advent offers a hush to the rush of the season. Advent asks us to reflect on how we spend our days and dollars. If I look at my life and how I actually spend my time—versus how I aspire to spend my time—what does that say about what I love? And where are these “loves” leading me? Where will these take me this Advent and Christmas?

I know this Christmas I want to arrive at the manger. To behold the Son of God, born in the flesh as the baby Jesus. In my imagination, I walk into that barn. I can smell the straw, the sheep, the scent of a new life. I can sense the divinity in this babe. I ask, “how can I continue to be present to this love?” This is the hope, the peace, and the joy that I am longing for.

So, I ask you, how might God be seeking you and wanting to love you this Advent? Maybe there is a solace with God that you miss. Wherever you are coming from, imagine yourself approaching the manger. As you enter, what do you see? What do you encounter, and how do you respond to this baby, God made flesh? What do you experience in this intimate encounter?

Letting Our Longings Lead

In these final days of Advent, find rest in what truly matters. Let your longing lead you to sacred stillness to encounter the love of Christ. Let love—God’s initiating, incarnating, unrelenting love—reorder your heart. As you move through your days and devotions this week, pause to notice where your attention, affection, and actions are pointing. Then ask: What would it look like to live as though you were deeply loved by God? Let that love shape your priorities, your presence, and your purpose. Advent doesn’t ask us to do more—it invites us to receive more. So, come to the manger, not with perfection, but with your longing. Come with your restless heart. And let your heart rest in God’s love.

Let your longing lead you to sacred stillness to encounter the love of Christ.