I may never forget that particular Christmas. Things were not always easy, but life was good.

It was 1979, and life was a bit stretched at times, to put it nicely. Jim and I had been serving as pastors to our first church in a little Missouri town by the name of Union, just outside of St. Louis. I also worked part time at a family medical center in town, and we were seeing God do some wonderful things in our community, as well as in our church. The congregation was made up of a great bunch of people who’d wandered in from all walks of life. There was never a dull moment.

Our second child had been born a few months before, a beautiful little girl; just like I’d pictured in my dreams; and exactly what her brother had prayed for. She and our four-year old son made life near perfect for me.

Well, it was the week before Christmas, the presents were wrapped and under the tree. Jim received a call and accepted an opportunity to preach a revival at a church not far from us where our friends pastored. We packed up our travel trailer with clothes and a few necessary items, loaded the kids in, and took off; leaving our home and our church in the capable hands of our friend and church secretary, Linda Scharfenberg.

A couple of days after getting to the revival, Jim received another call. This time it was Linda, calling to tell him that our home had been broken into, and several things had been stolen. She had gone to feed our little beagle dog and check on things, and saw the back door to the garage was open. Now, we lived in a very nice community on a five acre estate with houses scattered here and there in similar settings. It was a bit secluded and Linda decided not to go on in the house alone, but returned to town and called the police.

It was a good thing she did, because the officer later reported that he felt sure the perpetrators were still inside when she arrived at the home. Our first concern was for her safety of course, and then came our concern for our home. Apologizing to our friends, we packed our trailer up and headed home.

The first thing I noticed upon arriving there was that all the presents were gone from under our tree. My heart plummeted to my toes. We had left several gifts there, leaving only the big “Santa” items to be placed out on Christmas Eve night.

Everything was gone; the ones under the tree and the ones hidden.

Further investigation divulged that several other items had been taken as well, along with several of Jim’s firearms and a silver coin collection that I had saved for years. While these things were certainly devastating losses to us at that time in our lives, it was the missing Christmas gifts that broke my heart.

We had saved and scrimped to get Joey a “Weebles Wobble but They Won’t Fall Down” set, and it was gone, I’d found a lovely, little bitty, gold locket for our infant daughter and had placed a picture of her and her brother in it, that was gone as well. Jim and my gifts were not so much to be concerned with, someone wound up with a pair of men’s slacks that were likely way too short, and some underwear, and some lady may have enjoyed my new pajamas and my electric can opener!

It was a sad moment to be sure.

Looking back on that Christmas, though, what I remember most is the love that was poured out on us by the members of our congregation and our community. As soon as the word got out that we had been robbed, people started bringing gifts by our home. Gifts such as I could not have imagined, and certainly more than we initially had to put under our tree.

One of the gifts – as I remember so well – was a brand new Weebles set for Joey!

Of course, we never retrieved the locket, and I’ve often wondered where it wound up and who might even today be wearing it around their neck. But you know, it’s alright. Because whoever it was, I pray only blessings on them, and I hope that somehow they have felt the love that went into that little purchase.

It was later determined that the break-in was done by a couple of misguided young men who had vandalized and broken into several homes in the area. They were eventually apprehended and had to face the consequences of their actions. We, on the other hand never recovered our lost items.

I can only hope that somehow they might know that even though they destroyed our peace of mind, they took our earthly possessions, and they brought fear into our lives, and that of Linda, for a time, they also gave us an opportunity to be blessed.

Had this experience never come about, I don’t know that we would have fully realized how loved we were by our congregation and how much our Heavenly Father loves us as well.

And so, as I look back some thirty-five years later, I pray for those young men and hope that they found a better way of life. And I am grateful that our friend Linda was not harmed because of them. I am grateful that we can always remember that experience and see how God’s hand was at work in all our lives.

It was a Christmas that I will never forget.