Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen

It's a funny thing, how much time we spend planning our lives. We so convince ourselves of what we want to do, that sometimes we don't see what we're meant to do.

I didn't really think Jesus cared what I wore to Cedar Grove Baptist Church, or to see the governor for that matter, considering the fact that in every picture I ever saw of the King of Kings, He was wearing sandals and bundled up in nothing more than a big, baggy robe.

Now I know my father was a certified man of God, but at a fairly young age, I decided that when it came to my destiny, he did not know what he was talking about.

All I'm saying is that you can run away from a town or a house, but I'm not so sure you can run away from your home.

When we were little, people said we looked just like twins for no better reason than we might have been wearing the same color shirt. You had to wonder if they were truly looking at us.

I cared that at night, when everything was quiet and I started thinking about him, my heart would start hurting so much that I was afraid that there was nothing in this world that would ever make it stop.

And yet that's all I've ever done, doubt where I'm meant to be.

Daddy said you can see the devil in people's eyes, but maybe the devil is nothing more than the sadness they carry around inside of them, bottled up so tight that it comes out as pure ugliness.

Remember, guls,” preached Mrs. Gulbenk, always holding the most perfect red tomato in her hand for all of us to admire, “you can fry ’em, bake ’em, stew ’em, and congeal ’em. A good wife and mutha will always have a tomata on hand.” I can still hear those words rumbling around my head some nights when I'm lying in bed and can't sleep. And the worst part, the really tragic part of it all, is that now, all grown up, I always have a couple of tomatoes sitting on the kitchen counter. That's just how strong a hold the tomato can have over a Southern girl.

Remember guls," preached Mrs. Gulbenk, always holding the most perfect red tomato in her hand for all of us to admire, "you can fry 'em, bake 'em, stew 'em, and congeal 'em. A good wife and mutha will always have a tomata on hand.:

I never for a minute would have believed a dream could be this painful.

Daddy said you can see the devil in people's eyes, but maybe the devil is nothing more than the sadness they carry around inside of them, bottled up so tight that it comes out as pure ugliness, like it does with Mrs. Dempsey.

Just ’cause I like serving ice cream, Miss Cline, don't make me stupid. Or are you too smart to figure that out, too?” Eddie

all I knew was that I had spent my life begging the Lord to hear me out, to let me know He was out there somewhere, actually caring about what happened to Catherine Grace Cline. Turns out, I think He was talking to me all along, I just never bothered to listen to what He had to say.

Daddy said that Jesus talked in parables because people have a tendency to hear but not listen. They look but don't see. I guess I was no different than anybody else. I looked and looked for that dad-gum golden egg, and I finally saw it, just like Daddy said I would. Funny thing is, I didn't want it anymore.