David Slagle, of Decatur, GA loves ribs. I read a story about him and how he had heard of restaurant that offered amazing ribs. So, he took a group of his friends and drove fifty minutes to get there and try them out.
The place was packed and the food was great. It was also an “all- you-can-eat rib night.”
Eating ribs is messy business. Barbecue sauce gets on your face, fingers and clothes. Dirty napkins pile up next to half eaten bowls of baked beans and Cole slaw. When Dave’s crew had eaten all they could, they paid their tab and waddled out to the car.
Dave writes, “I reached into my pocket for my keys and came up with nothing but lint. Panicking, I looked through the window at the ignition. I hoped that I had locked my keys in the car, because in the back of my mind a more disgusting possibility was taking shape. When I saw that the ignition was empty, I knew exactly where my keys were – to my house, my car, and my office. Only seconds earlier, those precious keys had slid off my tray and followed a half-eaten corncob and many bones to the bottom of a trash can. I had thrown away my keys on all-you-can-eat rib night.
My friends were not going to do the dirty work for me. So I dove into the dumpster, fishing through bones, beans, barbecue, corn cake coleslaw and host of saliva-soaked napkins. A shiny layer of trash can slime coated my arms before I finally grabbed those precious keys.”
As we think about Lent and the coming of Easter, I think about our “dumpster diving God.” I mean no disrespect in this. On the contrary, I have a soaring admiration for one who would leave a pristine, sinless and beautiful heaven to search through the filth and rubbish of this broken world for something precious to him – you and me!