When I was in the sixth grade, my dad pastored a church in Lake Wales, Florida. One Saturday there was supposed to be a work day so my brother, sister and I got our old clothes on and got ready to go help out at the church. That was the plan. My parents piled us in the big, light green, Chevy impala we owned and started off down the road. Dad drove right past the church. We looked at each other and asked him what was up. He said we were going to McDonald’s first for breakfast. Cool!
He drove by the McDonald’s. What? Jodi, Jon and I looked at each other again and asked him, “Dad, where are you going?”
“Oh, there’s another McDonald’s down the road a ways.”
“Okay,” we thought, puzzled.
Dad passed the next McDonald’s. Okay, something is weird here! “Dad, we’re going to be late for the work day!” we cried, “We’re way down the road now.”
He smiled and said, “There’s another McDonald’s a little farther on.” In fact he and mom started singing a silly impromptu song, “Ohhhhhh there’s a McDonald’s in Lake Wales, there’s a McDonald’s in Winter Haven…” We realized our parents had officially lost it. Continue reading
Along the Narrow Path 