Ramona’s Pie 

This can only happen in a small town. 

 

I’m at a meeting.  I notice a text.  From my husband. It says, “What’s your mom’s number?  Ramona left her pie at Old Time. “

My mother has been eating with a group of friends every Thursday evening for years.  They try out many different places, but often make the return ten mile trip to a favorite, Old Time Pizza.  The staff knows them and us well.

So when Carla, the waitress, discovers the pie has been left, she goes directly to the phone and tries Ramona’s home.  She knows Ramona really wants that pie.  No answer. 

 

She calls us.

Bruce answers.

He texts me. 

 

I call Mom.

She tells Ramona.

Pie is saved; all is well.

 

In Place of Ambiguity

I’ve been wondering why something that I want to do - that I have the time to do, that I have everything I need to do it - has become so hard to do.

I’m wondering if I didn’t hear God call as I thought or if I have gotten ahead of him.  Was it really His call or mine?

Well, because I believe ambiguity is a call to wait, I’ll wait on my big plan and see if there is another open door On This Road Called Grace.

I think I’ll write about something easier – well, maybe not easier, but more entertaining.  We’ll just see where it goes.