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A baby named Messiah  (aka the work you weren’t planning on)

I swear I’m not making this up for the sake of a Christmas letter — I didn’t actually plan to write one until it happened. But a few days before Christmas, I met a baby named Messiah. Mmhm, yeah. Two-weeks-and-four-days-old Messiah … with his unwed, poor teenage mother in a girls’ group home in L.A. …

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