The Ricker household swelled with its usual Saturday morning activities until~ BANG! Something hit the window. Running outside, we saw the small bird lying lifelessly. My husband picked him up and set him on his feet, and the bird remained frozen upright, eyes half-closed like he was unconscious. “Phillip.” That’s what the boys called him. We’d never seen another quite like him. We stood bent over, taking turns praying for Phillip with the laying on of hands. Quite a sight, I’m sure. And still, the little guy never flinched. “God cares about Phillip,” I said. Matthew 10:29, 30 came to …
Christian Author and Literary Agent
