When she talks about her late husband, Marge Williams can’t seem to help herself. “I don’t want to make Jim sound like a saint, but I just admired that man so much. I’ve known pastors who kind of move Jesus over to the left side of God so they can sit on the right hand themselves. That was never Jim. He told me when he proposed to me, ‘Now you need to know what you’d be getting into. If you think you’re marrying a guy who’s looking to move up from a small church to larger and larger ones, I’m not that guy. I just want to go where I’m needed.’”

Jim was serving a small church in Connecticut and finishing his seminary doctorate when World War II broke out. Although he’d planned to teach at a seminary himself, five years as a chaplain in World War II taught him his real calling was as a pastor. On his return to the U.S., he began a pastorate in Dodge City, Kansas. He’d been there a little over a year when he was asked to make a presentation to the Kayettes at the high school. He and their sponsor hit it off right away. Marge and “Rev Jim” began dating and were married in another year.

At first, Marge mostly accompanied Jim on hospital visitations. Then some of her former high school students asked her to start a youth group. “I didn’t know much about being Presbyterian, but I gave it a try, and soon we had a wonderful youth group. After that, everywhere we went, we started youth groups.

“Our home was always open to the kids. We weren’t able to have children, so we just gave that love to the youth in our church. We always had a jigsaw puzzle set up in our manse. When kids had a problem, they’d come by ‘to work on the puzzle.’ It might take a week, but usually their problem would come out—be it alcohol, an unwanted pregnancy, or young men thinking they might be gay—they knew we’d help them with their problems and not stand in judgment. I’ve come to think that God didn’t give us children because someone needed to work with these kids down through the years.”

Almost thirty years into his ministry, Jim was serving a large church in New Mexico when he heard that a small church in Ouray, Colorado, was about to close. “He said, ‘I can’t let that little church die,’” Marge recalls. The next thing they knew, they were serving in a church with 33 members for about $6,000 a year. Even in 1970, that wasn’t much money. “It was a struggle, but within a couple of years, that church was thriving, with 140 members, which was a lot for a town that size.”

It takes humility and a strong sense of call for a successful large-church pastor in the prime of his career to take the risk of moving to a dying little church in a small town. It also takes faith that God will provide for those who take such risks. Through our gifts to the Christmas Joy Offering, we help Presbyterian churches keep faith with those who base their decisions on where God is calling them to serve, not on what offers the most security. Because of our gifts, Marge Williams receives a housing supplement that enables her to live comfortably in her retirement.

One half of our gifts to the Christmas Joy Offering helps students at racial ethnic schools discover their gifts and discern how God calls them to use them.

The other helps those who have served the church faithfully meet unexpected financial needs. Both halves help us take care of one another as members of the family of God. Today, let us joyfully share God’s abundant love, so evident in this season of Jesus’ birth, by giving generously to the Christmas Joy Offering.

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