Spare Me the Details...

Well, loyal reader, as you can well see I have given you a much needed break from my rambling thoughts, opinions, etc. Now there is real work for me looming on the horizon as I start my last year at the beloved Beeson Divinity School. Well, expect my posts to multiply these next few months as I will be eagerly avoiding the workload that will be coming my way.

I will leave you with one story for this sunny afternoon. I was waiting on a table last Friday that was composed of a 40 year old man, his mother, and his two pre-adolescent daughters. I knew what was coming my way when he stuck his hand up to get my attention no more than 2 minutes after he requested time to examine the menu. Just to let you know, this is a completely ridiculous gesture unless you are at a Wafflehouse or a comparable establishment.

Well, I could feel somewhere in my waiter-sense they were nowhere near ready to order, which was confirmed by five minutes of silence while grandma held me hostage, agonizing over the salmon and an unnamed second option. When I was released from my stay, I brought their food out, which still covered the table when my man asked for his check.

This is also something that will tip a waiter off that you have no idea what you are doing. When people are still eating, dropping a bill that exceeds three hundred dollars is something that should never be done- ever.

So anyhow, I clear the table, take dessert orders (which was an equally agonizing process as the entrees) and finally drop the bill in the middle of the table.

After five minutes, grandma calls me over although I can plainly see that there is no method of payment accompanying the bill. In a hurried panic that would usually indicate a fire or gaping wound, she asked me if they had received the check. In an effort not to insult her intelligence, I simply picked up the bill, assuming they had snuck a credit card past my watching eye.

"You don't have our visa card yet", was the icy charge from grandma; confirming my original assumption.

Now, at this point, my patience had run out completely so I gently handed grandma the bill and began to walk away. As I made my escape, I heard all three ladies shouting my name which sounded more and more like fingernails on a chalkboard.

As I have already indicated, my patience no longer measured on the most microscopic scale and the only words running through my mind would surely have gotten me fired. My move was to turn a deaf ear to the pleas for immediate gratification. After clearing my head for a minute, I moved back to the dining room and began speaking with another table of mine, assuming that grandma could wait another thirty seconds for her credit card authorization. Not for the first time in my life, I was wrong.

Grandma walked toward me, and in further attempts to acquire my attention, she was shouting my name. Turning from my current conversation, I looked the old woman square in the eye, and simply said:

"Ma'am, I need you to sit down. I am speaking with these ladies right now. I will be right back with you in a minute."

As she sat down, subsequently paid her bill, left a fitting tip and exited, I was once again amazed. We really live in a strange situation in the 21st Century. We have an entire industry devoted to relaxation and we will pay outrageous prices for a chance to relax. Then we don't take it. We demand, we insist on our own way and we routinely fail to consider the feelings of others. It seems we can't rest no matter how much we pay to relax.

If we have such a hard time trusting waiters to do their job, how much more difficult is it to trust God for things that we need. We can't see him or hold him hostage because we have no form of payment that he needs or will accept. Once again, our desire for control overrides our need for satisfaction.

What do you think?