This is a bit of a throwback post. I wrote this one on August 26, 2021 about the tasty goodness of Chick-fil-A, where the chicken flows like wine and no matter how many chicken biscuits I eat there, they never lose their magic flavor.

I admit that I love me some Chick-fil-A. My reasons have very little to do with the personal beliefs of their owner or any of their employees. It’s their magical wonderful chicken that has some sort of addictive chemicals added to it to make me crave it constantly.

I know that if I ever go to an event where they’ve catered those trays of Chick-fil-A chicken nuggets, the night is going to be lit. I mean, it’s going to be a P-A-R-T-Y. I myself could eat at least my weight in those delectable nuggets. Especially if they come with the sauces.

During the summer, they always bring out the peach milkshakes. As sacrilegeous as it sounds, I think I prefer the peach milkshake over the chocolate, and I’m usually all about chocolate anything and everything. Also, they have this delightful concoction called a frosted lemonade which to me tastes like one of those lemon ice box pies blended into a shake. I think I’ve gained five pounds typing all this and thinking about all the food.

They have some of the best customer service at most of their restaurants. They’re known for it. Most other businesses would do well to emulate the Chick-fil-A model of customer service. And the fun part is getting the employees to say “my pleasure” as many times as possible in one visit.

If you are a fan, let me know what your favorite items from the menu are. I myself am partial to the Spicy Southwest salad with the creamy salsa dressing and the spicy deluxe chicken sandwich. As far as beverages go, I really like getting half unsweet tea, half lemonade. And it comes pre-blessed.

I remember I went through a bit of a professional dark night of the soul after I got downsized from my job in 2012. I remember thinking at some point during that season that I was essentially unemployable — that I was never ever going to find another job ever ever again.

Looking back, I can see that was fear talking. That was my perspective looking solely through the lens of anxiety. As much as I know in my head that the voice of fear lies, sometimes it’s hard to discount because that’s also the voice that speaks the loudest.

But volume doesn’t always mean veracity. Louder doesn’t make it more true any more than might makes right. I’m learning to pay attention to the right voice this time. I’m remembering that the voice that calmed the storm didn’t have to yell to get the attention of the wind and waves.

As easy as it is for me to type the words about placing faith over fear, it’s a bit more difficult to live it out in the real world of jobs being eliminated and the economy being in a slump. My default setting is worry. I don’t have to work at worrying, but I do have to make a conscious effort to seek peace.

But sometimes I need to remember that even thought I may fall into the category of ye of little faith like that disciple Peter, that little mustard seed of faith is all I need for God to step in and do amazing things.

It almost slipped by. Today would have been my first cat Lucy’s 24th birthday. She crossed the rainbow bridge on June 21, 2017, taking a little piece of my heart with her. I still think about that little stinker from time to time. I still miss her whenever pictures of her show up in my memories or on my timehop.

I was incredibly blessed to have this furry little angel for 17 years. On second thought, make that my furry little sometimes grumpy, sometimes sweet, sometimes ornery, sometimes nice angel. She had lots of personality. Some might say she had plenty of personalities (but I say most of them were nice).

I choose to remember the good parts of those 17 years and not as much that hard last week where I saw her decline so rapidly. A small part of me still wonders if I could have done something differently to save her, but I’m pretty sure it was her time to go. She had a full life, or I suppose she used up all nine of her lives well.

I’m thankful for Peanut, who was never meant to be a replacement but more of another recipient for all the love I still had left inside. I’ll never forget how as a little kitten, Peanut picked me and chose me to be her furrever human.

But on this day, I honor the memory of a special cat. Very few will ever have a cat who was as loyal as she was. I’ll never forget how she waited by the front door every afternoon for me to come home from work. That was a blessing.

She was a blessing, so on this special day, I still say, “Thanks, Lucy! You were the best!”

I ran across an old picture that dates back to the 80s. It’s My grandmother, two uncles, a cousin, my dad, and me. A moment in time captured on film. The setting is probably one of the family Christmas gatherings. My dad is in his traditional Christmas pants that he always wore, and I am in some tacky sweater that’s not even Christmas-y.

Since then, my grandmother, both uncles, and cousin have passed away. Now the only ones left in that picture are my father and I.

I don’t know if you have those kinds of pictures that evoke memories and feelings like that. You see people who are no longer here and would give anything to speak with them again, if only for a moment or two.

I’d give just about anything to step back into that picture and relive those precious few seconds. Even if I could only be an unseen observer, seeing all those people alive again for that brief time would be worth it.

I’m thankful that I got to live that memory and know all the people in the picture. My only regret is that I didn’t say, “I love you” nearly enough to every single person in that photo.

But I have the memory.

“If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I would not fear a million enemies. Yet the distance makes no difference; he is praying for me” (Robert Murray M’Cheyne).

That boggles my mind. Jesus intercedes for me. Jesus prays for me. Jesus asks the Father on my behalf for my good and His glory what I could never hope to ask for myself.

It doesn’t matter that Jesus isn’t in the next room. He is next to the Father.

I wonder that if I really believed in the power of Jesus’ interceding for me, how boldly would I live. How confident would I be in the promises of God and seeing God’s purposes fulfilled in me and through me.

I would not fear a million enemies, nor a million obstacles, nor a million of my own doubts and sins. I would take heart even on those nights when I have no words, because Jesus speaks for me. He speaks a better word for me.

“From such a vantage, He is able to save those who approach God through Him for all time because He will forever live to be their advocate in the presence of God” (Hebrews 7:25, The Voice).