As the year draws to a close, streets across Malaysia begin to sparkle with festive lights. Shopping malls hum with carols, homes are dressed in garlands and glitter, and year-end parties are pencilled into calendars. It is, as always, a season of joy and reunion — a time many look forward to with childlike excitement.

But just beyond the glow of decorations, another kind of December story is unfolding.

In flood-prone parts of Malaysia and across the region, families are not preparing for carolling or Christmas dinners — they are scrambling for safety. Torrential rains have once again triggered floods, landslides, and displacement, with homes damaged, roads cut off, and lives upended.  

Rescue workers— many of them volunteers — are working around the clock, mirroring the selfless urgency we saw during the Covid-19 pandemic. They are braving strong currents, coordinating evacuations, and ensuring the vulnerable are moved to dry, safe ground — often while others are checking off holiday shopping lists.

This isn’t to say we shouldn’t celebrate. Christmas, after all, is a season of hope. But perhaps, in the midst of our festivity, we are being invited to pivot — to expand the meaning of our joy beyond consumption and convenience.

What if our celebrations reflected compassion?

Can we reframe our gatherings to include awareness, solidarity, and generosity? Can we temper our spending with giving— not just to charities, but to neighbours, places of worship, or families rebuilding their lives from mud-soaked ruins?

We often speak of Christmas as a season of love — but love isn’t always warm and glittering. Sometimes, it looks like quietly diverting resources meant for gifts toward a family in a flood relief centre. Sometimes it’s choosing presence over presents — showing up to support disaster appeals, or amplifying the voices of those affected.  

It could be as simple as asking:  

– Can I help a community get back on its feet?  

– Can I donate warm meals, clothes, or flood essentials?  

– Can I reach out to a local mosque, temple, or church providing shelter?  

At its heart, the message of Christmas is not about comfort or décor. It’s about God choosing to be born into mess, uncertainty, and danger — a stable instead of a palace. A displaced family instead of a secure home. That divine choice continues to echo today, in the muddy evacuation centres and tired faces of those still waiting for help.  

This December, perhaps we are being called to choose presence over excess, mercy over merriment, and solidarity over spectacle.

So as we light our Advent candles, let us also light the way for others.  

Let us sing carols not just for joy, but for justice.  

And let our year-end reflections lead not only to resolutions — but to renewed compassion.