Yesterday was my son’s school Family Day. Like most school activities, it began with a Holy Mass. I thought it would be just another part of the program – something familiar, something routine. But God had other plans.
During the homily, the priest spoke about JOY. Not the kind of joy that comes easily when life is comfortable or when everything is going right. He talked about “the joy in staying even when it is difficult.” Those words landed heavily on my heart. I wasn’t prepared for how deeply they would hit me.
It struck me in ways I didn’t expect. Not just in my relationship, but in everything. In life. In faith. In the quiet battles no one sees. Staying when it’s hard. Staying when walking away feels easier. Staying when you’re tired, broken, and unsure if things will ever get better.
I’ve had moments in my life when staying felt almost impossible. I survived suicidal thoughts. I fought depression for years! Silently. Painfully. And often alone. There were days when waking up felt like a burden and existing felt heavier than I could carry. But I stayed.
I stayed for my dreams — the ones I almost gave up on. I stayed because somewhere deep inside, I believed that life could still change. And most importantly, I stayed for my son. For his smile. For his future. For the chance to be there for every Family Day, every milestone, every ordinary day that now feels extraordinary simply because I’m still here.
That homily reminded me that joy isn’t always loud or obvious. Sometimes, joy is simply choosing to stay. Choosing to live. Choosing to keep going even when your heart is tired. And yesterday, sitting beside my son, I realized that staying – no matter how hard it was – was one of the bravest decisions I’ve ever made.
And that, in itself, is joy.