A famous chicken franchise, run by a deceased military officer in a white suit, has a very specific, sequenced way of taking your order. Go to any store (at least any of the ones I frequent), and it doesn’t matter what you order or how you place it, you will be corralled into the proper procedure.
She: Welcome to KFC!
Me: I’ll have a three piece, original, with mashed potatoes and green beans.
She: Is that for here or to go?
Me: For here.
She: Okay. What would you like?
Me: Uh… Three piece, original, with mashed potatoes and green beans.
She: Okay. Original or extra crispy?
Me: (Bottom lip almost bleeding) Original
She: Aaand, what two sides would you like with that?
Me: Oh, just surprise me.
At times I’ve thought it must just be somebody’s unique personality quirk. But after multiple locations and a long list of potential suspects, the thought finally dawned on me. This is training in operation. Somewhere, on a national, regional, or local level, there’s an order-taking training Nazi who insists that there is one – and only one – way to take an order.
Fortunately, at least for me, the food is worth it and they haven’t run me off yet. In fact, the other day I learned that order-taking procedures are consistent even for drive-throughs.
Me: Four-piece original.
She: Would you like the meal, or just the chicken?
Me: Just chicken.
She: Original or extra crispy?
Me: Um, that would be….
I got to thinking later – aren’t you glad prayer doesn’t work that way? I mean, seriously! I can be as sequential as the next guy on some days. But a lot of times, I have a lot of random mush, and a checklist just won’t do. (I told someone recently that I felt as though I’d been offering up handfuls of mashed potatoes to God. Gooey, sticky, messy, and formless.) I need a Heart Sorter. A Sense Maker. An Only-wise God. Can you imagine?
Me: Hey Lord. I feel so overwhelmed, and I’m pulled in a million different directions. I don’t feel like I have anything to offer anybody else, and I’m worried about money. I know You are my Provider, though, and I’m choosing to trust you. Bless the kids with the decisions they need to make and their spouses. Please forgive me for my attitude toward you-know-who, and give me your grace to love them and others with your love.
God: “My” or “Our?”
Me: Huh?
God: Are you in fellowship with others? It’s “OUR Father,” you know.
Me: Um, Yes as far as I know, although I’ve had this attitude. You know, toward you-know-who.
God: So it’s “our?”
Me: Yes, yes – Our. Sorry about that, Lord.
God: Father
Me: That’s what I said, Father.
God: You said, “Lord.”
Me: Oh, Okay. Father. But does it really matter? You ARE Lord, after all.
God: Ahem, yes, and as Lord, I want you to call Me Father!
Me: So sorry, Lor… I mean, Father.
God: Not a problem. Now how would you like to praise Me?
Me: Well, I have this stress… all pulled in different directions.
God: I don’t detect any praise in that. Now how would you like to praise Me?
Me: I praise You that You are my provider.
God: Now… that wasn’t so hard was it? Thank you.
Me: You’re welcome.
God: You don’t say “you’re welcome” to Me! You say, “No… Thank YOU!”
Me: Okay then. No, thank You.
God: You’re welcome.
Me: Now about that stress…
God: Now about My kingdom.
Me: What now?
God: You know… Kingdom come, will be done.
Me: Okay, whatever. Your Kingdom come your wi…
God: I’m not sure you really mean that.
Me: You didn’t tell me to mean it… just pray it!
God: I would think you would know Me better than that. My Kingdom is critically important. And My will is all-supreme, and you need to surrender to it.
Me: I’m trying to!
God: Well obviously not! You didn’t even say “Your Kingdom come.” Apparently it wasn’t that important.
Me: It’s important, Lord. I’m just so distracted and anxious. But truly… I surrender my will to your will, my “kingdom” to Your kingdom.
God: Splendid. Now how can I help you today?
Me: Well, like I mentioned earlier, I feel so overwhelmed, and feel pulled in a million different directions. I’m worried about money and don’t feel like I have much to offer anyone else.
God: So… is there going to be an actual request sometime this afternoon? Or this week?
Me: What do You mean? I just told You what I wanted.
God: You just told Me how you felt. And that’s interesting and all, but I already knew that.
Me: Then You already know what I want.
God: Sorry. You have to ask. It’s policy, you know. “You do not have because you do not ask.”
Me: Okay. I’m asking for the grace to sort out the fears and anxieties I have.
God: Okay. Granted.
Me: And would You give us the resources to pay that surprise bill we just got?
God: Let’s see… tithing records… giving records… Oh – sorry. Looks like you missed a payment in June, and another in August. You’re almost 180 days past due. Get that caught up and we can talk some more.
Me: Seriously?
God: Policy. Anyway, I’ve already provided you an employer and a home and cars and food. Now it’s your turn.
Me: Okay, so what about my children?
God: What about them?
Me: Just hoping you would bless them.
God: What does that mean, anyway – bless? Everybody always asks me that, then they don’t like the ways I do it. Okay, they’re “blessed.” Whatever.
Me: Well I specifically hoped you would give them guidance to make wise decisions.
God: Like the ones YOU made when you were their age?
Me: More like, protect them from those kinds of decisions.
God: Oh, I get it. Well, this falls more into the mercy category.
Me: Mercy?
God: Yeah, this is more about you asking for forgiveness for your mistakes by praying for wisdom for your children.
Me: Wow. That’s interesting… I guess you’re right.
God: You guess?
Me: Well, Father, please do forgive me for my youthful errors as you give my children wisdom that exceeds their years.
God: Can’t.
Me: Can’t! What happened to coming boldly before the throne of grace and all that?
God: You-know-whoooooo! Let’s see a little mercy toward them. Then I’ll take it under advisement.
Me: I want to change my attitude toward them. But whenever I think about it, it’s so tempting to… oh… I think I’m with the program now. Father, lead me not into the temptation to wish they would break their little toe on the sofa leg.
God: Good. I can help you with that.
Me: And please deliver me from evil thoughts.
God: We’re good.
Me: And could you please send the devil back where he belongs?
God: You want original, grilled, or extra crispy?
This is great.
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