I continue to learn from my son, Will, how much patience God must have with me and how much I must humor Him.

We had breakfast at Chic Fil A this morning. Will and I did that is. I assume God was there, too. I ordered the platter which they don’t have anymore, but the kind people found a way to assemble one for me. It included a biscuit which Will stole from me and it constituted a substantial portion of my platter. So I was still hungry when I finished. I asked Will to get an order of chicken minis for me and while there go ahead and get takeout for Sandra and Keely. Two biscuits and one hash brown. I repeated the order a couple of times. One order minis, 2 biscuits, one hash brown. He returns with the minis, 1 biscuit, 2 hash browns. He’s 11.

Go back and try again, young man. We need another biscuit. Take this $5 with you.

He comes back with $4 change. Hmm…

Will, did you get a chicken biscuit or a plain biscuit? Plain. Will, who wants a plain biscuit from Chic Fil A? He rebelled. You didn’t say chicken biscuit! I checked the original bag from his first run. Chicken biscuit.

Will, go back. He looked at me like I grew horns and my tongue transformed into a snake. After my insistence, he relented and returned for the third time. He did it with a good attitude. He’s such a great young man with a wonderful demeanor.

During the 180 seconds he was gone I realized how this scenario must be a microcosm of God the Father’s relationship with me. His enduring patience with me and how I surely humor Him. In those 3 minutes He convicted me that I shouldn’t be annoyed with Will, but to smile on his return and tell him that I love him. And I did.

As The Father always does me.

I did comment to Will on the way to the car that he’s a fine young man. He replied that he must get it from his mother.

Probably.

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