Framed in Fast Food

images-3 I wasn’t having it my way. I would have liked to.

I wasn’t thinking outside the bun. I didn’t have a bun.

I wasn’t lovin’ it. I really didn’t think there was all that much to love.

And I didn’t head for the border. It was too far away.

What I was doing was sitting in a fast food restaurant, working on my computer, drinking weak coffee and watching people.

A genuinely eye-opening (if somewhat tasteless) time.

Watching the people parade through this establishment, ordering food our grandparents would cringe at, was watching a slice of society that reflects, in part, a lot of who we are.

I watched as parents offered bits of chicken and sips of non-baby drinks to toddlers, who were reaching and babbling for more, which showed we all have choices. And we don’t always make wise ones.

I heard several languages being spoken, both by those ordering and those behind the counter, that reflected a rich ethnicity of our country.

I saw people dressed in suits and ties and lovely dresses, dipping fries in ketchup, just like my grandkids do. Peter Pan lives, and there are times we feel we never really have to grow up.

I watched as workers took order after order, smiling, being gracious, engaging adults as well as children with kindness. Character still matters.

And everyone had a story that they were living out. Here. At this crossroads of life.

It gave me a moment to savor the big picture. That we’ve all arrived in this world the same way. That our paths merge and intersect with people every day of our lives. That our stories are significant to us, and, we hope, to others.

I saw camaraderie and closeness. I saw loneliness and distance. I saw disagreements and genuine laughter.images-1

Life. Lived out where we are. With all the who and the what and the where we’ve been.

And I had to smile.

What makes us similar is so much greater than what makes us different. We’re all people in search of a great story for ourselves. In search of meaning for our lives. In search of others to care for us. In search of hope.

We’re all image-bearers of the God who made each one of us. Intentionally. Wonderfully.

So I looked at the crowd in this fast food place again.

And I saw people–like me.

Moms with children, looking frazzled, yet smiling at the laughter of a child.

Men in suits working at computers, focused, pensive, intentional.

Young people pointing at one another with a french fry as they made their point to their friends.

Couples talking over cups of coffee.

People alone, slowly eating, staring off into space.

All necessary stories.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could see the God possibilities in others rather than the things that aggravate us?

God wants us to see through His eyes. Which we can do. With His help. His power.

Even in a fast food restaurant.

Picture of baby courtesy of

3 responses to “Framed in Fast Food”

  1. I love the way you love people’s diverse stories… thanks for seeing a story in each of us!


  2. Thank You Dayle! For both received today…from Ps. 139 In our New Living Translation, have to add vs. 17 – “How precious are your thoughts about me O God! They are innumerable!” [you say through Him to us…And the picture He paints of me is more glorious than I can ever imagine. Clearly Seen! Dearly Loved!] Can you imagine what your optometrist would say about me?ha…Even in a fast food place we can see more clearly now, through His eyes, with His Help! His Power!


  3. Why do we forget this so often? Thanks, Dayle.


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