In line at McDonald's...

I like streaks. They motivate me. Namely silly, ridiculous streaks. I don't want them to be broken. One of my favorite Seinfeld's is Jerry breaking his "thowing up streak" because of the hated black and white cookie. Recently, I broke a streak that I've self-imposed for 11 years...I ate at McDonald's, Mickey D's. I know it may seem absurb but I've had an eleven year aversion from this evil empire of fast food. Why you may ask? Simply, I had a bad experience. But what has suddenly sparked this rebirth has been access to a '50% off all McDonald's food card.' It is glorious. Oh, the bliss of paying fifty cents for a double cheeseburger. Most days, I can be in and out of there spending under two dollars...most days.

Well, the other day, I'm standing in a long line and in front of me is a father, around forty years old, and his son, around 7. The man looked old for his age, reserved, dirty, wearing tattered clothes. The father is so proud of his son. He is drenched with joy, appeasement, and love. He put his old worn and wrinled hand on his son's head and left it there until his son ordered. He didnt say a word the entire time, just waited patiently for his son to step up and order. He was so content as was his boy. So the boy finally stepped up to order and he asked for a happy meal, giving the cashier crinkled money that his dad had obviously provided - dad's hand still on his boys head. I thought, "there's got to be something here." Something in me resonates deeply wanting that kind of approval and belonging that the son had to feel. Even if the son didn't feel it, the father was pleased. To me this was merely a picture. A glimpse at how God looks at those who are His, with love and approval and pride, not removing his hand from our heads. Pleased when we feel this and when we do not. I like this...