Nowhere is good old-fashioned American excess on display any clearer than in our observance of Christmas. Any though I am one of the many who complain about the spectacle it has become, I have to admit that part of me still loves it. I've had 50 Christmases, and wouldn't take anything for the memories.
As a boy Christmas meant a trip to Granny's house. It meant waiting in line at Sears or Dixie City to see Santa Claus. It meant drinking Atlanta Dairies eggnog, and eating mom's fruit cake (no jokes - it really is delicious). It meant watching Charlie Brown and Frosty and Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer (which I watched again last night). It meant church Christmas plays, cantatas, and lots of pretty decorations. And as a Southern Baptist, it meant Lottie Moon.
Charlotte Digges "Lottie" Moon was a SBC missionary to China, who died on Christmas Eve 100 years ago this year. She was quite a lady, and it would do your soul good to learn more about her life's work.
If you'd like to know more about Southern Baptist missions, including Lottie Moon and the offering that bears her name, you can visit this website.
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