But then Sandra called and I asked me to go to her church's Christmas Eve service because she had bought me a gift ( a perishable gift) and wanted to give it to me before it went bad.
"Does it involve whipping cream?" I wondered out loud.
"No. No it doesn't. Did you know you are very hard to buy for? I didn't know what to get you, and then I had an epiphany in the middle of the night last night and I said, Thank you Lord."
"God gave you a perishable epiphany regarding a gift for me?"
"Yes. See you at church."
Those pentacostals. How come God gives them Christmas present ideas? I'd been praying for divine inspiration regarding something for my dad for weeks. Weeks. Everytime I went to a mall, I asked God to show me what I should get for my dad.
Nada. I came up blank. He never answered.
Which was disappointing. But to be expected, I suppose.
I never got the "Christmas Spirit" this year. I hoped for it. I prayed for it. I yearned for it.
But it never happened. And I never got the answer I wanted regarding a gift for my dad.
With a heavy heart, I drove down to Southgate alone, and found an empty seated in a totally packed out auditorium. There was alot of carol singing, (complete with a interesting twist on O Holy Night ... the accompanying instrument was a BANJO) and some wise words spoken. It ended with us all singing Silent Night, holding candles.
I cried through most of the service because I was sad. It was OK though. It was dark in there, and no one saw.
I met Sandra in the parking lot afterwards then drove back home to clean my house.