I have never, ever been home alone on Christmas Eve. As the realization washed over me, a tiny ripple of feeling sorry for myself began to trickle into my heart.
But then, the Holy Spirit interrupted with an almost-audible whisper. “This is the perfect night to spend with Jesus.”
One female oriole ventured to an empty place, but before she could even get her beak into the tasty purple jelly, one male bird chided loudly in bird language, “Find your own place!” Which she did – in the nearby pine tree.
Just about the time he got to the back door, the new preacher, not knowing anything about the teen, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, ‘Son, who’s your daddy?’