Jesus, A Fine Wife, and GPS
“Hold watcha got, let me plug in the GPS.”
“I don’t need that thing. You remember where it is; down there in Rock Hill where Wayne played with Cowan a few years ago.”
“The roads have changed since then. Let me program it. Now, where is it we’re going?”
“Rock Hill. They said come by Tony’s Pizza first and eat supper.”
“You ever been there?”
“Naw, but Darin said it was right across the street from theater. We can’t miss it.”
Mafar plugged the restaurant into the GPS and a map flashed up. “See, nothing to it.”
“Shucks, I’m sure I could get there on my own.”
We cruised through the country-side. “Beautiful evening, huh? Hey, aren’t we supposed to turn here at #3 School?” I asked.
She looked at the GPS map. “It says stay straight.”
“But there’s a short cut that way. You go just past the Fish Camp and take a right, then go left at Roper’s junkyard. We used to come down here as kids for Camaro parts.”
“You know what the children say about your short cuts. Besides, that was a long time ago.”
“I’m only 42.”
She rolled her eyes.
We got within a mile. “Something doesn’t look right here,” I said. “Where’s the theater?”
“I don’t know, hon. You said it was in Rock Hill.”
“Your destination is on the left,” the GPS barked. “You have arrived at your destination!” I pulled in. Marco’s Pizza. No familiar cars. No theater across the street. Uh oh. Something’s wrong.
I dialed up Rick, the road manager. He listened for a minute and then howled with laughter. “Doc, it’s Tony’s Pizza in York, not Rock Hill. It’s right across from the Sylvia Theater.”
“Good grief.” We pulled out of the parking lot. I grumbled as we sped along the back-roads. “I never did trust those retro gizmos anyway.”
Marfar laughed. “Honey, they can only take you where you tell ’em to go. You just think you’re some old rock star who wound up in the wrong town.”
“I guess.” Marfar can set you straight but still not set you on your ear. Smart woman. You know men are; they never ask for directions.
She found III Tyme Out on the IPOD. “He’ll Take You In” was the song. “If you give Jesus a chance, He’ll take you in,” she said. “We won’t be too late. You only missed it by one town.”
By the time we cut through the country, (these GPS gadgets are the ticket) we were there only twenty minutes off schedule. I flung open the door and yelled out, “Hey y’all, when did they move the Sylvia Theater to York??!!”
My Sunday message was this: “Pray for guidance and don’t rely only on your own input for directions. You might take the wrong road alone.” It doesn’t hurt to have Jesus, a fine wife, and GPS either.
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