by Andrea Trudden, Vice President of Communications & Marketing
As we enter the second week of Advent and light the Bethlehem Candle, we remember the journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem—a journey filled with uncertainty, trust, and faith. This candle represents peace, and we reflect on the gift of Christ, the Prince of Peace, who came to bring hope to all. Today, let us turn our hearts toward those who walk alongside women and families facing unplanned pregnancies, serving as beacons of peace and support when it is most needed.
In Isaiah 40:3-5, we read: “Prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” In a very real way, those who work in pregnancy help centers and maternity homes live out this calling. With compassion, they create a path through uncertainty, helping women navigate rough ground and level the mountains of fear that often accompany an unexpected pregnancy. They prepare the way by offering encouragement, resources, and, most importantly, the peace of Christ through loving support.
Like Mary and Joseph, who faced countless unknowns on their journey, each woman who walks into a pregnancy center brings her own unique story, fears, and hopes. The client advocates stand beside them, ready to listen, understand, and walk alongside them, much like Joseph did for Mary. They provide a steady presence, not only helping women make practical choices but also extending peace that comes from knowing they are not alone.
These dedicated individuals do not have all the answers, nor can they erase every difficulty, but their unwavering support and empathy remind women of their inherent dignity and worth. In this way, they are bearers of peace, inviting each person they encounter to lay down her fears and trust in a brighter tomorrow.
Pregnancy help organizations become sanctuaries of peace, where women and families can find relief from worry and gain clarity amidst the unknown. The staff and volunteers bring God’s peace into each interaction, each consultation, and each prayer.
They serve as reminders that God’s love is near and that, no matter the circumstance, hope is possible.
As we light the Bethlehem Candle this Advent, let us remember these modern-day shepherds who walk with courage, offering peace to those who seek it. They are a reflection of God’s faithfulness, and their work is a testament to the power of love and compassion in times of need. They prepare the way for new life—not just in physical birth but in the hope and healing that only Christ’s peace can bring.
Let us pray that these dedicated individuals find strength in their work and that every woman and family who enters a pregnancy help center might feel the presence of Christ through them. This season, may we all be inspired by their example to prepare the way for peace in our own lives and for those around us.
by Andrea Trudden, Vice President of Communications & Marketing
In this second week of Advent, as we light the Bethlehem Candle, we remember Mary and Joseph's journey. This couple, uncertain yet obedient, traveled with hearts full of trust in God's promise, seeking peace amidst a time of chaos and vulnerability. For those of you working in pregnancy help, this journey mirrors the ones taken by women who come through your doors—mothers with hearts brimming with questions, and in many cases, anxieties about the future.
You are, in many ways, walking alongside them on their own path to Bethlehem.
The Bethlehem Candle reminds us of peace, a peace that comes not from understanding every step but from placing our trust in God’s unwavering love and promises. Just as Mary and Joseph knew only the next step but not the full picture, the women you serve may only see one step ahead. And here you are, offering steadying hands and gentle guidance as they continue forward.
In Isaiah 40:3-5, we read, “Prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” In pregnancy centers, you embody this calling, becoming “a voice in the wilderness” for those feeling lost or overwhelmed by unexpected circumstances. Each moment spent with a woman, each whisper of encouragement, each gentle assurance is a way of leveling the rough ground, clearing the valleys of uncertainty, and lighting a pathway for the peace of Christ to enter her life. Your presence and your work make the path smoother, allowing her to see the hope and possibilities ahead.
Pregnancy help organizations are not just places of guidance—they are sanctuaries of peace, places where women can lay down their fears and anxieties. As we reflect on Mary’s journey to Bethlehem, let us remember that she carried within her the Prince of Peace. In your role, you too carry that peace into each conversation, each counseling session, and each prayer. This week, let the Bethlehem Candle remind you that in every interaction, you bring forth a reflection of God’s promise of peace, and like Mary, you become a vessel of hope and comfort.
Advent is a time of preparation, and peace is a promise that God’s presence is near. This week, may you find renewed strength and joy in knowing that you, like Mary and Joseph, are part of a sacred journey. By helping those who enter your centers, you become a reminder of God’s faithfulness and peace. So let us pray together that every woman and family who walks through your doors might feel the love of Christ, who entered our world as a tiny baby but who came to bring a peace that transcends all understanding.
Let the Bethlehem Candle remind you this week: You are the hands and feet of Jesus, offering peace to those who need it most, reflecting the light of Christ, and preparing the way for His love in the lives of others.
What is the most full of hope you have ever been?
I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s been parenthood. Nothing has given me a feeling of expectation and desire for good than becoming a mother. From the very first positive pregnancy test—and even before as I hoped and prayed for a child—I found more hope for my life, my child’s life, my child’s future, and the future of our world, than ever before.
That may not be everyone’s experience (for many who enter a pregnancy center, fear overcomes any hope, at least at first), but it does give me a new outlook on the Advent story.
The story of Mary and Joseph preparing for the coming of Jesus and all that came with it was certainly full of fears, but also hope.
While Mary certainly asked how this could happen, she gave her admirable answer: Let it be done to me according to your word (Luke 1:38)—and joyfully went to celebrate with her cousin and prepared for her child’s birth. On the other hand, Joseph’s reaction was something that those of us in pregnancy help might be more familiar with, confusion and uncertainty. Joseph needed an angel of the Lord coming to him in a dream to be convinced that it was right to stand by her (Matthew 1:20).
I wonder what it was like to have hope not only for this one child and this one family but hope for all of mankind because of this one child. And I wonder what it was like to feel that hope while looking for a place to stay in Bethlehem, knowing that the time for their son's birth was coming soon.
Mary and Joseph saw the hope of their child’s arrival on the faces of shepherds and wise men who came to see this precious little child.
For others, it is different. The hope that comes with a child is hard to see when you’re facing addiction, rape, domestic violence, or simply a pregnancy that wasn’t part of the plan. You speak that hope into the lives of parents every day when you offer real solutions to the obstacles that can make a pregnancy feel like a crisis.
Just like the angels who came to Mary and Joseph, you help them see the hope that comes with new life.
My two precious children, Maria (named in part for Mary, Queen of Apostles) and Christopher (literally 'Christ-bearer'), are the hope for me and my family every day. (And yes, I know I have a naming theme.) We waited, prayed, and yes, hoped for them. Now, I have hope for the lives they will live—from school to work to families they will lead. They are sparks of joy for my parents and grandparents. They inspire their aunts and uncles—sometimes even giving them hope for a better future. My kids, now just 3 and 1.5, offer grounds for believing that something good can happen, and that tomorrow will be better than today.
My biggest hope is that they will live up to their names and help bring Christ to the world because it is His coming that offers hope for us all:
Hope that there is something more than this broken world.
Hope that we will experience eternal life.
Hope that love, truth, beauty, and goodness prevail.
by Jennifer Wright, Developmental Editor
“Ummm, Tony? My water just broke.”
That was me at midnight the night before Easter. My husband reacted as many husbands do—he started getting everything together, made sure we had childcare for our toddler and drove me to the hospital—all with just a little bit of panic in his voice.
Our son was born less than 11 hours later—during the Easter morning Mass we had planned to attend. We had been waiting with expectant hope for months and we brought home our healthy son with joy and celebrated Easter more joyfully than ever.
Only eight months later, I’m reflecting on this experience during Advent. Since I’ve become a mother, imagining the events leading up to the first Christmas has taken on new meaning. Reflecting on Mary’s journey with Joseph, so close to the end of her pregnancy, brings me more empathy than ever. I can understand now what it is to be close to delivery and have many things to worry about, in addition to how labor will go, whether my baby will be healthy, and if I will be able to care for and provide for my child.
Add in the uncertainty about where a child will be born, the physical toll of travel, and the anxiety of settling into a new place (perhaps far from family), expectant hope can easily turn to fear and dread.
But Mary and Joseph had support. They found someone who made space for them in their poverty so that Jesus had a manger to lie in. They had joyful shepherds who celebrated, spread the good news, and glorified God. They had wise men who brought gifts (although wise women might have given more practical gifts…) and protected their new child.
Thanks to you, new mothers have the support they need to bring their children into the world too.
I love the liturgical calendar because it gives me set times during the year to reflect on individual parts of salvation history. Advent is a time when I remember the expectant hope of our faith—expectant hope like that of waiting for a child to be born. But it also reminds me that, for many in our movement, it’s always Advent.
I’m eternally grateful for this movement of wise men and women, joyful shepherds, and generous innkeepers who walk the steps of Advent with women every day.
When you next find yourself overwhelmed or sorrowful because of a client’s decision or story, remember that while you may find yourself in an eternal Advent, Christmas—the most wonderful mystery of salvation history, when God becomes man—is coming. You can wait with expectant hope, knowing that we will have a time of celebration.