Baptism, Bacon, and Belgium Waffles

A few times a year the husband and I like to go on road trips. Some keep us in our state, and others take us through several states. These are usually the ones that are the most memorable, and by “memorable,” I mean something unexpected or just downright bizarre happens – usually to me.

Case in point: Sunday morning, Southern Tennessee and The Waffle House.

As we sat down we noticed a group of folks occupying the booths in front of the entrance to the back of the restaurant and the restrooms. They looked like they had just come from church services. The ladies were in their finest dresses and hats and the men in their suits.

As a kid I can remember my mother making sure that she and I were dressed in our finest as we headed out for church. This was back when people still dressed for church. I didn’t think anyone really did that anymore, and I remember thinking at the time it was good to see this.

We had our meals and while we were wrapping up the breakfast I thought I’d better visit the ladies room before getting back on the road. . . If there is one thing you learn quickly when traveling with my husband is – he doesn’t stop for potty breaks. He’s all about putting miles behind him so you need to go while the goings good.

In order to get to the ladies room, I had to walk through the church folks who were having quite animated conversations across the aisles and between the 4 or 5 booths they were occupying. I felt kind of bad for interrupting them, but when you gotta go …

As I made my way through the aisle saying my “excuse me’s” the church folks stood up and started testifying, praising and raising hands.  It wasn’t unusual for me to see this, as I was raised in the south and had been to church a time or two, but the unexpected timing of it all nearly made it unnecessary to continue to the ladies room. . . if you know what I mean.

As we left they were still holding services and it reminded me of something my dad used to say to my mom when she would get on him about not going to church with us on Sundays. He would say, ” you don’t need a special building to talk to the man upstairs, you can do that anywhere and anytime.”

Never was that proven more than that day.

I’m still not sure but I think I may have actually been baptized on that day – right there in The Waffle House.