It is not that ignorance is so bad; it is just so inconvenient. Case in point. A while back, I found in the mail coupons for two free nights in Dayton...
It is not that ignorance is so bad; it is just so inconvenient. Case in point. A while back, I found in the mail coupons for two free nights in Daytona Beach.
"Look, my dear," I squealed, with delight to my wife, "We have two free nights in Daytona Beach." Immediately we checked our calendars and selected a time when we could take advantage of our windfall, without running into all those spring-breakers at the beach.
Personally, I am not too crazy about Daytona Beach. I am crazy about free. Consulting the parsonage exchequer, we could afford free. Upon leaving the house, all I could do was hum a tune, "Two Whole Nights at the Beach ..." Before I finished, my wife suggested I quit humming.
Of course, with her suggestions always comes the phrase, "And if you don't I'll ..." Well, you know the rest. I took her suggestion, but I was humming on the inside.
Arriving at our motel in good time, we checked in and settled down for two days and two nights of absolute relaxation - whatever that is. The room was terrific and in the corner was an old friend - a Lazyboy recliner. With the recliner and a remote, I settled in for some serious goofing off for the next two days.
Admittedly, I am not gifted in many areas, if any. My wife, however, says I goof off better than anyone she knows. One takes pride in what one does best.
Next to our motel was a restaurant called The Wing House. On the outside it looked like a nice place and, unlike my wife, I am not choosy about where I eat. Any old greasy spoon suits me just fine, thank you.
I must say I was completely unprepared for what I was about to experience in the restaurant next to our motel.
On the second day of our mini-vacation, I decided to run next door for some carry out. My wife wanted some soup and I fancied something a little more substantial. When I am on an errand, especially one as important as my supper, I am usually focused on one thing and one thing only. I wanted to run into the restaurant, give my order, get out as quickly and simply as possible and get back to my Lazyboy and remote. It is my two days off; I will squander them if I want to.
I did not notice anything strange when I first walked in. I focused on the menu. Looking up from the menu what I saw shocked me to the core. I am known for dropping everything from dishes to keys. This time I dropped my lower jaw to the floor.
It took some time for me to gingerly pick up my lower jaw. I just noticed the young girl standing before me greeting me and inquiring about my order.
I heard nothing - but, unfortunately, I saw more than I expected. Let me try to describe this as delicately as I can.
The only thing I can rationally think of is, when this young girl dressed in the morning her costume fit quite well. I hardly think anyone would put on clothes that did not fit.
However, during the course of the day, being a young person, she must have experienced a rather dramatic spurt of growth, causing her clothes to be at least three sizes too small.
Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, the only thing keeping her breathing was the lack of material around her chest area. Otherwise, she could have suffocated.
Her clothes were so tight, not to mention skimpy (and I didn't), that I wanted to take the shirt off my back and give it to her.
I mumbled something rather incoherently and said as loud as possible, "and make it to go, please."
After giving my order, I did not know what to do with my eyes. You can look at the ceiling only so long before people begin inquiring into your family history. Other young girls, in the restaurant, I found in the same condition. There must be a "growth spurt" epidemic going around.
My order finally came and I quickly paid for it, made like an egg and scrambled for the sanctity of my motel room. I slammed the door behind and paused to collect whatever was lagging behind me, happy I made it to safety.
No sooner had my heart reclaimed its tranquil rhythm than I heard an anemic knock at the door. When I opened the door, much to my chagrin (and believe me I was not grinning), stood my semi-clad waitress with a restaurant package in her hand. I felt as though I had been run over by a Mac truck.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but we mixed up your order. Here's your order."
We exchanged bags and one glance at my wife told me that, along with other things, I would be eating crow.
Later that evening, as I prepared for bed, I took comfort in the words of the Apostle Paul.
"According to my earnest expectation and my hope, that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but that with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life, or by death." (Philippians 1:20 KJV.)
Ignorance about some things is inconvenient, but ignorance about Christ is fatal.
