Sitting in the car with the windows half-open, the muggy Manila air half-choking us with the heavy weight of smog, I turned to you, stared at your face half-asleep, and asked, “Are you happy?”
In the only way you know how, you pressed the palms of your hand on your eyes, and you replied, “Happiness is a state of things. Joy, a state of the heart. I’m happy, but more importantly — I’m joyful.”
It would be folly to claim that I understood what you meant when you said it, but it would be untrue to proclaim that I do not understand it until now, because I do. Finally.
This year has witnessed far more heartbreaks than imaginable, far more losses, far more pain. It bore witness to nights of numbness as I would force air into my lungs, reminding myself to breathe, breathe, breathe. For most of it, a time of confusion, of letting go, and of realising that some things are better off far away than nearby. This year, our brothers and sisters in Mindanao saw war in epic proportions, became audience to skirmishes lasting for weeks and months, watched as families and friends perished to a fight they never wished to be part of. In 2017, we saw our institutions crumble, our friends depart, our hope waver, our drive diminish.
And so here, on the day before Christmas, I ask myself — is there merit to wishing people a happy one, when much of what’s happened this year is grief?
When Joseph and Mary went around Bethlehem to give birth to Jesus, there were no raucous celebrations, no grand festivities. It had been a long night for all, and all they sought for was a place of rest, which no one would offer.
Perhaps they were exhausted and frustrated. Perhaps they weren’t happy.
But when, upon finding a stable, the humblest of all locations, Mary gave birth to Jesus, I would suppose she felt in her heart the deepest understanding of all — that this wasn’t just happiness. This was, in fact, joy. More consistent, less afraid. Ever-encompassing. Pure, unadulterated, perpetual, grace-filled.
So, yes. There is merit in wishing people a Happy Christmas, but maybe it is more potent to wish them a joyful one. One which does not need pretending, because Christmases are not the same for all, but one which understands that hand in hand with all of these — the pain, the heartache, the loss, the anguish, the sadness, is courage, love, peace, happiness, and hope.
Take what you will this Christmas, but most of all, take my wishes for you: I wish you a sort of permanence that will ensure that your heart keeps beating even when it’s tired. I wish you a sort of certainty that will allow you to keep struggling against all odds. I wish you a sort of truth that will remind you that things – as things are capable of doing – will one day make sense. I wish you fiery hope, that you will never forget to seek for things that make you feel alive. Finally, above all else, I wish you joy, not fleeting happiness, not a seasonal greeting, not a weekend frenzy, that will get you through this year, and for all the years to come.
Have a Joyful Christmas.
Of perpetual finds 