As we are surrounded by sites and sounds of Christmas, many of us show a bittersweet smile while gazing at lovely Christmas lights or hearing a children's choir. We feel guilty for feeling happy when we are surrounded by so much tragedy and reflect upon a world that 'once was'.

It feels like Christmas spirit has been knocked out of our sails and we are drifting aimlessly upon a sea of tears.

Yes, it's been one heck of a year. The loss we have sustained is incomprehensible. Combined with our individual problems; we're left wondering how to get through Christmas with joy in our hearts. Where is room for joy when our hearts are filled to brim with sorrow?

My eyes mist when I think of lives lost and families who must be struggling to shop for their remaining family members. What angst they must be experiencing. Those of us who didn't lose anyone feel for them- but, also feel helpless. How can we take away their pain? How can we make it easier for them to get through season? That weighs heavily on many of us and contributes further to our attempts of feeling joy during a season that's supposed to be joyous.

I've reflected a lot on this because of my own feelings of confusion and despair this Christmas. I've battled with guilt and sorrow. I've wondered if I should even bother decorating for Christmas when there are so many out there caught in web of grief. My heart bleeds for them.

I ask myself, "What right do I have to be happy?"

I've come to conclusion that it's okay, even necessary to experience joy and hope of Christmas this year. If we take our focus away from gifts and decorations and point it towards what Christmas really is- we will find comfort, solace, peace and joy. For Christmas is Christ and Christ is eternal love, hope, life, joy and peace. Isn't that what we need right now- more than ever?

We have all admired teacups, fine china luster, artistry, and

their intricate designs. Have you

ever thought about what happens to one's that are

not quite so perfect?

I know a favorite of mine has a crack on inside corner. Most the

crack is hidden from eyes, unless

someone was looking for it. It's rose design, a little

faded from years of service. If it were to be bought or sold for

antique value, it wouldn't bringmuch because of its imperfection. Yet,

the memories of secrets shared over tea with this cup are priceless.

This simple cup, flawed as it may be, has a message

uniquely its own. Beauty is not dependent on what the

eye can see; it's a matter of heart. What is

stored in a treasure in cupboard of heart can never be bought or

sold for any price.

I went to a doctor one time that told me I was not whole. Infact, I was

broken. I had to learn to live with missing parts that could never be

added. When God created me, he left out most important part of my

reproductive system, my ovaries. I remember how I felt

that day. Is there no hope for a normal life I would

ask myself? I would cry. No one will ever understand

my pain. My cracks were secret, hidden deep inside,

except for keloid scar on my neck. A cracked

teacup that best describes what I am.

I began to remember lesson of teacup. God I said, "I never asked

to be a cracked cup. Please tell me why?" I never thought that taking

care of a diseased thyroid would result in such an ugly scar. Even after

three plastic surgeries. I wondered would

any man ever love me, imperfect vessel that I am?