Advent is a season of waiting. We light candles, mark days on the calendar, and remind ourselves that Christmas is coming. For many, Advent feels gentle and hopeful. But for a betrayed woman, waiting can feel heavy, exhausting, and painfully familiar.
The Waiting Season
After betrayal, we long for rescue. We ache for relief from the shock, the grief, the trauma that now colors everything. We wait for signs that our partner is choosing recovery—that this time he really means it, that sobriety and honesty will last. We watch his actions closely, hoping for consistency, humility, and change. And often, we find ourselves disappointed when our waiting is in vain.
This waiting season is not passive. It is long and difficult, filled with therapy appointments, disclosures that reopen wounds, group support meetings, coaching sessions, and hard conversations we never wanted to have. Restoration, if it comes at all, demands courage and endurance. Advent, for us, can feel less like a quiet manger scene and more like trudging through the dark, wondering how much longer we can hold on.
Sometimes we realize we may be waiting for a different sign altogether—the confirmation that the relationship is truly over because he will not seek recovery or sobriety. That kind of waiting is heartbreaking. Alongside it, we wait for our church family to support us in the way we need, only to feel unseen or misunderstood. We wait for our own families to validate our pain, to understand that betrayal trauma is real and devastating. Too often, those waits feel unanswered.
The Hope in Waiting
But what if Advent invites us to shift where our hope rests?
Advent is not just about waiting for circumstances to change. It is about waiting for a Person. Scripture calls Jesus “Immanuel,” God with us. What if, this Christmas season, we changed our hope for the arrival—the advent—of Christ in our lives? What if we looked to Him to meet the needs our partners may or may not ever meet: safety, comfort, truth, steadfast love?
Christ’s coming does not erase our pain, but it promises His presence within it. He enters the mess, the grief, the unanswered questions. He sits with us in the waiting, not demanding that we be stronger or more forgiving than we are. Advent reminds us that God comes close, especially in the darkness.
This Christmas, let your waiting be filled with expectancy—not for perfect outcomes, but for “the hope that does not disappoint.” As you light the Advent candles, may you sense Christ showing up, being present, holding your broken heart. You are not waiting alone. God is with you.
Traveling in Hope,
A free prayer written just for you: An Advent Prayer for the Betrayed Partner
If you are looking for resources to help you step into waiting with expectancy of Christ’s arrival in your pain, check out these options:
Navigating the Holidays Webinars from the Vault
Light in the Long Night: A Lament Service