There Will Be McDonald’s in Heaven
By Jeremy Gulley
Several years ago my family traveled to the Philippines. Though we enjoyed the experience, the food left a lot to be desired. We tried hard, but really did not enjoy much of anything. Then, one day, we found a McDonald’s.
Unfortunately, what should have been an oasis turned into another part of the culinary nightmare. We wanted hamburgers and french fries, but we got boney fried chicken and rice – though they did offer free gravy refills! Needless to say, we were not impressed.
When we arrived back in Dallas, I found a McDonald’s in the airport and we ate while we waited for our next flight. We felt like we were home.
Fast forward to this past Sunday:
We left our Disneyworld Resort and didn’t look back. We were so tired of standing in lines, fighting crowds, and paying three times more money for everything that we forgot what it’s like to be free. If you have ever been to a resort then you can relate. We felt as if we were in a beautiful prison – not allowed to leave or make any choices on our own. Everyone was sickly sweet and nice, and things were just too . . . clean and nice.
Not our normal vacation, to say the least.
We arrived at the Orlando airport and rented a car — headed for the beach. Then we saw the McDonald’s and we were reminded that there is a real world out there. We were reminded that things can be greasy and messy and bad for us. We were reminded that life isn’t a nice, neatly wrapped package where things always work out. We were reminded that the good things in life are messy.
I told my wife that I wanted to go somewhere where there was a chance that a fight would break out, where I might possibly get hurt, where things might possibly go terribly wrong. And that’s what we got.
The cashier greeted us with a frown and a “what . . ?”
We ordered. She snarled, “What to drink . . ?”
We told her. She snapped, “for hear or not . .?”
We responded. She walked away, gathered our food and then helped someone else.
We smiled. Broadly.
Before we left, we ordered cookies for the road. As my wife paid, I made a joke to the mean cashier and she actually smiled at me – a well earned smile, I thought, just like I like them.
Then we ended up on a deserted beach, sand between our toes, wind in our faces, birds overhead. I could still taste the greasy food and I thought that everything was absolutely perfect. My wife commented that it was nice to be on a beach that God made rather than on concrete that Walt Disney made, and I couldn’t have agreed more.
There will be a McDonald’s in heaven, and it will make everything that much better.
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