A Desire That Nothing In This World Can Satisfy
Our restless heart is not a flaw — it’s the human condition pointing us back to the source and summit of our life.
Dear friends —
This Advent, all paid subscribers are receiving the Letters from Leo Advent Reflection Series: a daily companion to prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas — and to reckon with what his arrival demands of us, personally and publicly, in a moment of deep moral and political crisis.
It’s not too late to join us. Today’s reflection is below.
To give you a sense of what you’ll encounter, I’ve unlocked two pieces for all readers.
The first is our opening Sunday reflection, which sets the tone for the season. The second is a reflection from last week, where I wrote candidly about the isolating pain me and so many others experience during the holidays — and how Advent meets us there, not to deny the loneliness, but to reveal God’s quiet presence within it.
These reflections will continue each day through Christmas.
Letters from Leo is open to anyone who wants to be informed and inspired by our pope — and to turn that inspiration into action that leaves America and the world more just, less cold, and more alive with hope.
If you’d like to support this work during this sacred season, here are three ways you can help:
Subscribe as a paid member to receive exclusive posts about the life and formation of Pope Leo and help sustain this newsletter.
Donate with a one-time gift to fuel this project’s mission.
Share this post (and Letters from Leo) with a friend who might enjoy it.
Whether you give $0, $1, or $1,000, your presence here matters — no matter your faith or your politics.
Thank you for reading. I’ll see you on the road.
“O Key of David, opening the gates of God’s eternal Kingdom: come and free the prisoners of darkness!” (O Antiphon, December 20)
In today’s readings, the prophet Isaiah promises a sign to King Ahaz: “the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel.”
Centuries later in Nazareth, the angel Gabriel tells a young virgin that she will bear that very Son.
“Nothing will be impossible for God,” the angel says, and Mary’s “yes” opens the door for our Savior to enter the world.
God himself becomes Emmanuel — God with us — to free us from the darkness we could not escape.
Deep in every human heart is a longing for liberation. As it was for our ancestors, it is for us.




