It was December 1970. I had been raised in a loving Catholic home, and always celebrated Christmas. But now, in my 2nd Christmas after high school I didn’t know if I believed anymore.
I was caught in the spell of “Woodstock Nation”, and on Christmas Eve, instead of gathering with family and going to church, I took a night time walk alone through the woods to a meadow where my friends and I would meet in the summer. The night wasn’t very cold, but lacking the joy of Christmas, my heart was in a deep chill. I have only felt that bleak on perhaps 3 occasions, but this was the most profound.
Within a year from that date I would end up losing a semester to mononucleosis, in a moment of tachycardia, submit to the Lordship of Jesus Christ, while recovering from mono, read Lord of the Rings, meet some wonderful Christian people, begin attending a Charismatic Episcopal church, find and lose the girl of my dreams, discover the truest love is the love of God, lose friends, make friends. It was a turbulent year, but one thing I can say is, I’ve never spent another Christmas without the fellowship of the King born 2000 years earlier.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a GOOD night.