Hello friends,
Every year, as Christmas approaches, the weeks leading up to December 25 always make me wish Christmas Day would be solemn and sacred. Something about this biggest of feasts smells like holy perfection. But when the day comes, it often turns out more chaotic and cluttered than an ordinary day. It's hard not to feel a little letdown.
There's the bustling to and from family reunions, and the inner noise small talk and pleasantries bring. Then, the struggle of coaxing our kids into their dresses and into the car, which always happens too late. And the hard fight to keep them still and solemn during Christmas Mass. These are only some of the discordant colors that paint the day.
By Christmas night, I usually end it too tired to do anything more profound than necessary. Deep within, the yearning to sit by the monstrance and manger, to drink in the message of God reaching down to touch us through the beauty of a baby, aches because it is so poorly fed.
Of course, the meaning of Christmas isn't wholly buried under our mess. I can sometimes hear its echoes through the din. Its angel song somehow rises above the "noise" of Christmas.
I'm thankful, too, that Christmas Day stretches out over 12 days! After the craziness settles a little, the many days of this long feast give many opportunities to turn inward and ponder how His shocking humility seeps through all that is broken, frustrating, messy, and painfully loud.
Such is this moment, on December 27. I'm sitting in the quietest nook of a café. My chair looks out onto a patio that looks like it could be in New York or Singapore. But it isn't. The faces of pedestrians on the walkway outside remind me I'm still in trafficky, warm Manila.
Sitting here, I try to remember and relish my most significant glimpses of joy from the last 2 days...
This year's included hearing that after all the trimming and fuss, what pulled strongest at my grandmother's heartstrings was seeing her youngest great-grandchild in angel's wings. Another was watching my parents lean a little closer towards each other on Christmas Eve. And a third was seeing Philip gaze with delight at Jacinta and Ella on the 24th. The 2 rambunctious toddlers insisted on playing together till midnight.
It was nice to see that our girls, for some weird reason, preferred to welcome the first minutes of Christmas enjoying their sisterhood instead of tearing through the gifts under the tree. Weird because the gifts were right there, and we wouldn't have stopped them if they decided to open presents a few hours too early.
It was another small miracle they weren't cranky and fighting at that late hour. It was as though something about Christmas Eve being Christmas Eve lit a sturdy wick of joy in their young souls. I couldn't have been more grateful as I basked in the glow of their happy hearts that night.
Our Christmas morning meal was simple, more like a shepherd's than a king's. It included a small bowl of chocolates, which our toddlers devoured. Then, a spread of lentils, green beans, scrambled eggs, cheese, and ham. Still, it was a festive break from our ordinary since most days here begin with a piece of toast or a bowl of cereal.
Breakfast lingered into noon, and it was a blessing to enjoy the quiet morning, sweetened by a soft breeze and surrounded by those we most love.
Our lives are still mostly what they were before Christmas. Yet, celebrating Jesus’ birthday and remembering the ways His presence seeps into our lives reminds me that the yearning for perfection that Christmas intensifies isn't meant to be satisfied by yearly visits of December 25. Christmas only reminds and rekindles that this yearning is there. His birth signals a beginning and a beginning again, but the desire it awakens will only be filled later.
These days we remember he was born in an unsanitary stable and had to flee to exile days later. These harsher details are as central to his birth story as the star, the magi, and the tender warmth of his parents' embrace.
His birth was both a miracle and an entrance into our misery. His beginning, an icon of how human life, even after he infuses it with His power and love, is only slowly getting brighter. Each soul, even after he kisses it, is an already-but-not-yet.
Christmas might awaken a longing for what is whole, just, and enduringly satisfying. But to fulfill that longing isn’t what Christmas is meant to do. It only hints at that fulfillment. It announces that the king has landed, but he still is leading us in a war to recover what was stolen and broken. Victory hasn’t arrived, although his being here already guarantees the good team will win.
In this way, the gift Christmas announces and brings, en-courages us to face the darker stuff of life with hope and bravery because, even if boredom, absurdity, and pain have to remain, His light and beauty are already here with us. It announces His undying, earthly presence of light, even amidst thick, foggy darkness.
This season too we recall how he invites us to draw near him, which is what every sweet baby does.
Already, but not yet. This was the consoling message of my crazy and cluttered Christmas 2023.
How about you? How has your Christmas been? I do hope it's been calmer and less cluttered than mine.
Anyhow, I send this last B.T.&G. for the year with my warmest Christmas wishes and prayers for you and everyone you hold dear. So too, for the New Year we welcome tomorrow.
Some other b. t. & g. things:
I had wanted to send out a letter to you all in mid-Autumn. But the draft has, unfortunately, remained a draft. In case you'd like to visit the letter, titled “Travel, a gym for the soul & other nomadic epiphanies” here it is.
Travel, a gym for the soul, & other nomadic epiphanies
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Hello, Sending warm hellos from the land of apple cider and Trader Joe's. This year has been quite nomadic for us. In March, we found ourselves in Paris. In September, we dropped by Shah Alam ( an hour and a half away from Kuala Lumpur.) And now, here we are, surrounded by the stunning yellows and orange-reds of an East Coast autumn.
Feminine Genius Round-Up 1 as promised
Feminine Genius Round-up no. 1
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If you've been following B.T.&G. this year, you know a motif has been the feminine genius. Much "ink" has been spilled over here, pondering the unique ways women dignify the world through the feminine ways we love. I sent a lengthy post on this redeeming pattern in July. And there, too, promised to begin a se…
Ella's birth story (she turned 2 last October)
Elena Isabel, our stubborn snuggler
Our Elena Isabel turned a full 2 years last October 20. That day marked 730.5 sweet days living with her, more or less. Minus two trips Philip and I took this year without her and Jacinta. I wanted to write something of a birth story to honor her milestone, as I did for Jacinta, if only so she wouldn't ask me one day, "Why only Jacinta and not me?"
Thank you all for reading along. One of the brightest spots of my year has been sharing this space with each of you.
Merry merry Christmas, once again.
Warmly,
Sim