Have you ever run out of hope? Have you ever reached the place where you stopped expecting anything to change? Have you ever been so sick and tired of being sick and tired you just wanted to throw in the towel? Whew. I have. And God’s people knew that kind of hopelessness, too.

After the prophet Malachi, heaven went quiet. No new word from the Lord. No prophet. No vision. No nothing, other than the Hebrew Bible to get them through. Generation after generation, silence. And that silence lasted for about 400 years. 400 YEARS.

Imagine what that silence felt like. Was God done with them? Had they finally run out of second chances? Had He finally just moved on? Had the slow burn of His patience finally gone out?

They still had the old promises. Centuries earlier, Isaiah had written to people in their own long night: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone” (Isaiah 9:2). But after four hundred years of silence, those words must have sounded more like your great, great, great grandfather’s memory than a promise. And they needed hope NOW. They were living under Roman rule. For those who were still even trying to be faithful followers of God, the pagan world was pressing in on them so much they could barely breathe. I can imagine one of them asking the Lord, “Is this it? Is this how it ends?” And His response? More silence.

And then, just then, when God’s people were only a hairsbreadth away from losing their last vestige of hope, the light broke through.

Paul describes it like this: “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law” (Galatians 4:4-5). When the fullness of time had come. All of creation was pregnant with expectation, and yet hope had nearly run dry. And THAT’S the moment God stepped in.

John opens his Gospel with the same picture. Speaking of Jesus, John tells us, “In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:4-5).

Notice who does the work. The people in Isaiah’s promise don’t find the Light, they don’t build it, and they don’t earn it. All they do is see it. It dawns on them. The Light comes from outside. That’s what real hope is. It isn’t optimism we work up. This Light, this Hope, isn’t another New Year’s resolution that this time we’re going to get it right. No. It’s the kind of nuclear-powered Light that only God can send in. And He did.

And the Light isn’t an idea. It’s a person. “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given… and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6). The Mighty God arrives as a newborn who can’t even lift His own head. He can’t stop crying. (And what even is this crying?) That’s how far He was willing to come to reach us. The Light of God, who is Christ, will stop at NOTHING to defeat the darkness for those who are His. Nothing.

So, if you’re in a dark place this Advent, take hope: The light came then, right on time, and it’s still breaking through today. Open your eyes and behold the great Light! And have hope that God is working all things for His glory, for your joy, and the salvation of the nations.

And that’s why Missionary Ventures exists. Since 1983, we’ve sent out missionaries to come alongside national leaders who carry the Light into places where people have stopped hoping. And sometimes, these leaders have stopped hoping, too. But I see it every day: God uses Missionary Ventures to remind them that they are not working alone. It’s not only their hand on the plow. We come and stand next to them and push that plow with them. And this brings them hope, this Light. And just like God’s people in Jesus’ day, they didn’t generate that light. All they did was receive it, and now they hold it up for others.

This Advent, would you stand with them? Our goal is to raise $285,000 for our Core Mission fund by December 31. Your gift helps carry hope into places still waiting for dawn.

The darkness is real. But it doesn’t get the last word. It never does. The Light has come.

And the Light always wins. Always.