Another God Sighting

The signs scream "Christian Family Restaurant Open 24 Hours," "Floyds" and "Praise God." One towers over the restaurant in Corpus Christi, Texas, and another covers the length of the roof.

So we go in for lunch. Looking for God. And inside confuses me.

Allen smells old cigarettes and it's dingy. I see no trappings of faith. Big or small. No Bibles, pictures of Jesus, or scripture napkins.

A dour-faced woman waits on us, then argues with the cook, where we can hear, about the amount of bacon Allen has ordered. (Which is a lot, and the cook doesn't understand, I suppose.)

I notice that most of the 15 other customers sport tattoos. No one dresses well -- at all. And some look scary. One man's bears a huge Iron Cross tatoo -- on the front of his neck. Another wears a sleeveless T and a dirty bandanna over long dirty hair. He fidgets. A lot.

This is no church super. But it could double for lunch at homeless shelter.

I ask my waitress about the God thing and where it is. She smirks and says her boss bought the restaurant from someone else and that's all she can tell us because she doesn't know any more.

OK. Simple enough. New owners, and now no God.

We pay our bill and head out the door. That's when I hear something special. Something sincere. I hear a woman's sweet voice say confidently, "Have a blessed day." THERE IT IS! There's God. It might be a small amount of God, but it's God.

So I say back, without turning around, "OH! You, too." And she replies, "OH! Thank you."

Later, I Google the place and find nothing about the history or new owner. A few random diners posted good food reviews. And then I find this little nugget, on a coupon: Floyd's Christian Restaurant uses its revenue to feed the homeless.

So if this is still true, then THERE GOD IS. In a very big way.