You can learn a lot at the
Service Station. . .
I know because I used to work at one
~~ oh, that was years ago
and things have changed a whole lot
d i f f e r e n t l y. . .
Of course, back then
A Service Station
meant that you went out and pumped somebody’s gas
checked their oil
made sure their tire pressure was correct
A L L
while you actually wiped their windshield,
took their money,
always gave small talk
and did it all with a smile. . .
even in the coldest parts of winter
the hottest parts of summer
Now. . .
do it yourself,
but if you’re like me. . .
can’t do it
especially when it is
m y s e l f. . .
I heard something scraping underneath of the car and of course I took it to the service station and Mark, the mechanic said he’d give me a call when he go to the bottom of the problem; sure enough, within an hour, Mark called and let me know that what had been dragging on the ground was just an unnecessary plastic shield underneath of the car that had come untacted and he fixed it.
N O W
here’s where it gets interesting. . .
When people ask me, “Hey, where do you come up for your blog posts or your sermons, your in-the-process-self-published books, or your presentation ideas,” and I tell them that they’re everywhere, the IDEAS are more rampant than an abundance unmanaged germs; in fact, my biggest problem is never on my what I’m going to say, or write or do so much as what am I going to leave out and not say or do because they are just that multiple. . .
And here was one served up for me . . .
when I walked back into the
to pick up my car
I had to wait to check out while Mark the Mechanic was on the phone
and it was
t h e r e
that I overheard a conversation. . .
It was taking place between two people about
predestination. . .
The gentleman said, “I believe that everything was predestined from the beginning and that everything that happens to us is destined and we have absolutely no control over anything.”
I don’t know if it was his wife
but the lady replied back in an agitated tone,
“That is absurd. I can’t believe that any intelligent person could actually think that we have no control over anything, let alone our own fate and destiny.”
This went back-and-forth for a little bit until she slammed the door shut with one simple question:
“If you believe that everything is destined and has been predetermined; that there is no choice on your part, then why did you look both ways before you crossed the street on our way over here after breakfast?”
I found out that day
what I learned a long time ago:
you can learn a lot at a service station
especially when you go there
because you can’t do
(s e r v i c e)
things yourself. . .