The first Christmas I spent away from my family was also my first Christmas of walking with the Lord. I was living in Needham, Massachusetts. Having grown up in the deep south, my assignment to Boston out of college couldn’t have been more exotic if it’d been Mars.
I had arrived in early October. The beauty of the colored leaves intoxicated me. I loved the quaint town with its mixture of Victorian houses and small clapboard homes. The locals’ accents fascinated me. One student, named Barbara O’Conner, introduced herself as “Barba-er O’Conna.”
The ministry team I joined was made up of seven young single men and women. We quickly became fast friends.
I’d planned to return home for Christmas. But our national director had other plans. He asked everyone to remain at his or her assignment to prepare for the conference that would begin the day after Christmas.
The Lord had prepared my heart for this change in plans. I was actually excited to experience a New England Christmas. Since Boston winters were much colder than Savannah winters, I wanted the perks of a New England Christmas. I asked the Lord for a white Christmas.Continue Reading