Some years ago, when the beautiful Christmas season was upon us, Ron and I had finished our shopping: toys and clothes, specially selected by Nana and Papa for the grandchildren; and uniquely selected presents for our adult children, in hopes they would be pleased. The gifts were wrapped and placed under the tree, in papers coordinating with the ornaments! The house was decorated in anticipation of our beautiful family gathering on a hopefully snowy, Sunday, December afternoon. During this time, I celebrated the Savior’s birth, and I rejoiced in the influx of Christmas carols and classics playing on every Pandora, radio, or satellite station I heard. Yet my heart hurt, more during this season than at any throughout the year. Some of you understand. You’re feeling similar right now. I’m writing this especially for you.
Pangs of shame pierced me when I perceived that hurt, urging me to think on the good things and to praise God for all the joys of this season.

