Easter is an explosion of light. An immense joy, sometimes difficult to describe. After the forty desert days of Lent, Christ's Resurrection turns everything upside down. It opens up a new path, it restores meaning, it lifts us up. But once the feast is over, once the bells have stopped ringing, the clothes have been put away, the chocolates eaten... what's left? How can we live out this joy in everyday life, in routine, in ordinary days when nothing seems to change?
The joy of Easter is not an ephemeral firework display. It is a fire that burns deep within. A light that illuminates even grey days. It's a lasting joy, rooted in a promise: Christ is alive, and his life is in us. But for it not to fade, we need to cultivate it, nourish it, anchor it. Here are some ways in which this joy can continue to inhabit our days.
Welcome joy as a gift, not an emotion
The first thing to remember is that Easter joy is not euphoria. It is not a passing mood. It does not depend on our mood or circumstances. It is a gift, a grace. It comes from the Risen Christ. It is his living presence within us. Even when we are tired, even when we have doubts, this joy can exist. It's not a smiling façade, it's an inner peace. A discreet breath that says: "You are not alone. Life has won."
To experience this joy on a daily basis, we have to start by welcoming it. Making room for it. Desiring it. Recognising it in little signs. Sometimes it's hidden in a look, a silence, a whispered prayer. It's not always a burst of laughter, but it's a gentle light that keeps us standing.
Recalling to our hearts the promise of Easter
We need memory. To remind ourselves often of what Easter means: Christ passed through death, and lives. That changes everything. It means that nothing is ever totally lost. That failure is not the end. That life goes on, transformed. We can remind ourselves of this promise every day. By rereading a passage from the Gospel. By lighting a candle. By looking at an empty crucifix. Because the cross is now a place where light shines through.
Remembering Easter is not about forcing ourselves to be joyful. It's about telling ourselves again that hope is stronger. And that God is at work, even in what we don't yet understand.
Choosing life, even in the little things
The Resurrection is not just a spiritual event. It is a way of life. To live Easter joy is to choose life every day. Choosing to bless instead of curse. To lift someone up instead of pushing them down. To make a gesture of love, however small. It's about trusting when everything pushes you to withdraw. It means turning towards others, with gentleness. It means refusing to be discouraged. These are simple choices, but they transform the heart.
And every time we choose life - even without knowing it - we let the light of Easter take root in us a little more. We become bearers of that joy, without even needing words.
Taking care of the inner light
Like any flame, Easter joy needs attention. It needs to be protected from the wind, from oblivion, from fatigue. This means spending time in prayer, however short. By a silence that lets us breathe again. By keeping a word of the Gospel in your heart. It's not a question of doing more, but of living differently. To keep a link with the One who gives life.
In those moments when joy seems to fade, it's not serious. We can come back, gently. Return to Christ. Say to Him, "Rekindle your light in me." And he does. Because it is he who gives joy, not we who make it.
To become witnesses to this joy
Easter joy is not to be kept to oneself. It is meant to be shared, passed on, offered. Not noisily, but truly. It can be seen in a way of being: more peaceful, more confident, more open. Sometimes, a face filled with peace says more than a thousand words.
Witnessing the Resurrection is not about understanding everything. It means living in the belief that the light shines through, even in the cracks. And it is this faith, discreet but real, that can touch the hearts around us.
Conclusion
The joy of Easter is not a memory of the past. It is a presence that accompanies each day. It does not shout. It does not impose itself. It unfolds in silence, in love, in trust. It's the joy of knowing that nothing is ever finished with God. That life is always reborn. And that the Risen One walks with us. So even when the days become ordinary, even when tiredness returns, we can continue to live in this light. And remember, quite simply: Christ is alive. And so am I.
