When fries inspire a praise and worship session

I ended up staying in town last night until 8:00-ish... long past the time I'm suppose to have dinner.  So, isn't that an excuse for fast food?  My nutritionist would tell me I should have taken my book to a sit-down restaurant with healthy food but the three dollars in my pocket screamed McDonald's One Dollar Menu.  Guess who won?

I waited in the long drive-thru line, gave the nice guy three ones and a penny and waited for change, and then waited until a bag was given to me by a young girl who warned me the french fries were hot.  They do that sort of thing ever since that lawsuit because their coffee was... get this... you won't believe it... their coffee was hot.

I pulled over to a quiet place in their parking lot to give myself an insulin shot so I could ingest said food and then... took my first bite of those fries.  Oh, my... yum... and I gave God a very heartfelt thanks for McDonald's hot french fries.  Hmmm... perhaps I shouldn't have written heart and fries in the same sentence... don't want to give my body any ideas... better stop to take a baby aspirin.

But I digress... there are just times when McDonald's fries and a McDouble are absolutely insanely delicious.  Perhaps it is because I don't eat fast food often.  I don't know, it may have had something to do with driving dark country roads with one hand while the other goes in and out of a paper sack.  Perhaps the fact it was two hours past dinner time and I was starving.  Most likely... all the above.

But here I was driving and thanking God and eating and thanking God and turning my bright lights on and off as a car came toward me on the narrow, dark road.  Kinda' reminds me when I drove a stick shift as a teenager and ate a Whopper at the same time... a girl had to do what a girl had to do when she left high school for an afternoon job each day.  But I digress again...

As I was driving, Amy Grant's song Better than a Hallelujah started playing on K-Love.  Perfect timing!  I think God loves praise any time we give it to him as well as a thankful heart.  Even if it is inspired by potatoes.

By the time I arrived home, the empty sack was thrown in the tall kitchen trash container where (hopefully) the aroma of burger was gone before the guys arrived home.  They were given basketball tickets to a big game (although every game is considered big if you ask me).

I turned on the TV to the station carrying the game so I could 1) see when they would be leaving for home and 2) get an immediate response to whether their mood would be good or... not.

No mention was made of any aromas wafting from the trash later... a good thing.