Holiday Full of Joy and Sorrow

Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Hello New year, Holy Epiphany, Blessed Lunar New Year, everyone!

Holiday spirit overflows in this season with lots of things to celebrate. I hope that you had time with beloved families and friends, perhaps visiting, eating, gifting and much more. But is it only me who also held laments over this happy season? On the day of Thanksgiving, my host dad went to the ER, a Korean airplane crashed a couple days after Christmas, New Year's brought a tragic terror in Louisiana, wildfire wiped out habitats in LA on Epiphany. This ‘Happy Holiday’ mingled expected joy and unexpected sorrow.

In times like this, when my body wants to sit in the layers of pain, I try to hold on to a Christmas memory from the past, a memory that brings joy enough to pull me out of the sad zone. I would have been about 12 years old. My parents decided to rebuild a small country church that was facing a shutdown. The previous pastor stole the church assets and ran away, but my parents ended up selling our home to pay the debts and restore the church. The village where this church stood was only a 10 minute drive from our home, but it seemed rather isolated and distanced from where we lived. Sure enough, the church was historical as it witnessed the Japanese occupation and Korean War. Many members in this church were in their 70s~90s, and they were the very first generation of Christians in this village. I was too young to understand the sacrifice my parents made back then, but I fell in love with this small village. It was full of adventures. Juicy wildberries and sweet fig trees were gems to discover, and the endless grassfields on the other side of church became our world cup stadium every Sunday. The church members poured out unconditional love to me and my brothers.

Christmas season came, and our family found out that this church had a unique tradition. Kids and younger members gathered, waiting for midnight, the start of Christmas, to come. It was cold and late at night, but the excitement was building. When Christmas finally came, we went around the village singing carols. There was a unique joy of staying up so late with the parents! I remember shouting out carols at the top of my lungs because we were suddenly allowed to be loud late at night. Like kids going around ding-dong-ditch, we went around home to home hoping people would come out. Before the first verse was done, many would come out and hand us cookies, moon pies, sweet bread, and snacks! At the end of carolling, we had no more empty hands.

The cold breeze brushing my cheeks, the crisp sky with blinking stars, dogs barking as we walk around…the memory comes so vividly. Not only does it bring me joy to reminisce, it also brings nostalgia. It makes me smile but also takes me to a place to which I can’t go back. This memory visits me like Christmas spirit, bringing me happiness but also longing.

This past Christmas, I also had a time of longing because David left on the first day of Christmas to visit the Holy Land. He was gone for twelve days and was coming back on the 13th day. Waiting and praying for his safe return, I stitched a home every day. Picking colors of fabric, cutting them to a variety of shapes, stitching homes together. The tangible activity of making connected me to David. It became a daily ritual for David and those who lost their homes. I was away from home staying with families and friends, so it almost became a mutual longing to be home again.

More than any other Holiday season, I felt grief, sadness, frustration with what was going on around the world. I wonder if you felt the same. It was joyful to open Christmas gifts with family, but when you came back home, the spirit of grief followed you. It was wonderful to be sharing a New Year meal with family, but when alone, you found yourself pulled into the gravity of sorrow. My artist friend recently shared “A Liturgy for Embracing Both Joy & Sorrow” by Douglas McKelvey, and the words below deeply resonated with me. As we are adjusting into 2025, may you and I embrace joy and sorrow with our long awaited Holiday spirit - Jesus.

"For joy that denies sorrow is neither hard-won, nor true, nor eternal. It is not real joy at all.
And sorrow that refuses to make space for the return of joy and hope, in the end
becomes nothing more than a temple for the worship of my own woundedness.
So give me strength, O God, to feel this grief deeply, never to hide my heart from it.
And give me also hope enough to remain open to surprising encounters with joy,
as one on a woodland path might stumble suddenly into dapplings of golden light."
You can find the full liturgy here

Would you lovingly pray for Songbird in these ways?

1. I'm leading a Brehm Artist Residency cohort this year as a facilitator. Please pray for my ear and tongue to be prepared for each meeting, so the group feel heard and seen. I had hard time concentrating the second meeting, and I want to be tuned in for the third one.

2. That David and I would find a home (with a good sunlight) under our budget as we have started the searching process.

Nesting Together #7

During this holiday season, did you also experience feelings of both joy and sorrow? What was one thing that brought you joy? And on the contrary, what was one thing that was unexpectedly sorrowful?

Birdwatcher, birdlover...and birdfeeder!

If you want to support my art journey financially, I want to thank you! Your seed will be a source for me to explore the world of creation and encourage me to make beautiful things.