As I pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot on Beach Boulevard, I saw him sitting alone in a front booth, sipping from his coffee.
I parked and sat in my car for a minute or two and studied him. Heat waves undulated off the Mustang’s hood. Jack undulated with them, drinking his coffee slowly. He seemed to be enjoying his coffee. Even from here I could see the hint of a smile on his face. Or maybe it was in his eyes, the way they crinkled. Sweat rolled down my spine, between my shoulder blades. If I stayed in the car much longer, I was going to have to crack the window. For the moment, I ignored the heat.
Who was he? Who was he really?
How did he know I was going to be here today? I had only made the decision to come here, what, two minutes ago? I happened to be in the area and decided I needed to talk.
And there he sat.
Waiting.
Maybe he really is God.
Despite myself I laughed…and headed into the restaurant.
“ You knew I was coming,” I said after ordering myself a drink.
“ You knew you were coming here long before that, James.”
“ Not consciously.”
He shrugged one shoulder, almost playfully. “Perhaps not.”
“ Whether or not I knew I was coming here hours ago, or just a few minutes ago, still doesn’t account for how you knew I would be here today.”
“ Maybe it was a lucky guess.”
“ Or maybe you’re God.”
“ Maybe I am.”
“ You’re very frustrating,” I said.
“ You could choose to see me that way. Or you could choose another way.”
“ What way?”
He set his coffee cup down. Jack needed to shave. The hair on his face was peppered with gray. There was a dimple in his cheek I hadn’t noticed before. His eyes twinkled. Eternally twinkled.
“ Playful,” he said.
“ I think I would rather have God be serious.”
“ Because life is serious?”
“ Yes,” I said. “Life is damn serious.”
He nodded and looked down at his coffee cup, which he held in both hands. “Life can be serious, Jim. That I will not deny. But life can also be full of joy.”
“ For some,” I said. “Not for everyone. And certainly not for everything. There is much suffering in this world. Too much.”
“ I agree.”
“ Then why don’t you do something about it?”
“ Sometimes you need to see the acts of violence, Jim, to appreciate the acts of kindness.”
“ But that does nothing for those suffering,” I said.
“ Then don’t let their suffering be in vain. Hear their cry and take action.”
“ I’m just one man.”
“ So am I,” he said.
“ You’re more than just a man,” I said.
He tilted his head toward me. “And so are you, Jim.”