I have been outed. I have no shame, nor guilt. It's true: I am a Charismatic Catholic woman. Sue me. I just can't help it. There is actually quite a big group of us out there. Suppressing my tendencies toward outward expression of my faith, which I find pleasing and powerful, will now officially cease. I am returning to a place God found me long ago and that He never left. I feel like I am going back to my hometown returning to a restaurant that still serves goodies I once enjoyed.
The Donut Hole in Destin, Florida comes to mind.
Almost every Sunday, my mother and I indulged in something sweet after church. We progressed from Cheese Danishes from McDonald's heated with melted butter on them to The Donut Hole. I remember going there and watching donuts being made through a window by the cashier. The person making the donuts sometimes would look up, but otherwise stayed focused on rolling, cutting and frying up the dough. Nothing was wasted, hence the name of the shop.
I got a Glazed and a Bavarian Crème. The huge apple fritters also weaseled into my repertoire of choices. The subsequent lofty sugar high accompanied by the deep low made for great Sunday afternoon naps. It was indulgent, I know. Yumminess usually is. Church and food just compliment each other so well, I think.
That establishment still exists there on HWY 98 in Destin. Legendary treats continue to grow the business. It's much bigger and serves full breakfast that people wait patiently for in a line. The system is unique. Everyone watches the diners while they eat at their tables until someone is through. Before the table is even cleared, the next person in line snatches it up claiming a homestead territory of big lacquered wooden tables with benches on either side. Smells of smoked bacon and the sweet vanilla in the pancakes fill all corners of the restaurant as platters of generous portions show what awaits. By the time the server arrives, your mind has been long before made up about your order.
The last time I was there, I bought six large, eggplant purple mugs to bring home. I am a sucker for souvenirs that remind me of good times, especially of good food. The hope is that I can recreate the same feelings and emotions of my visit. My connection of happy thoughts elsewhere and dining ware isn't very fashionable, but I love serving my kids tea and hot chocolate in those cute mugs. They're fit perfect in everyone's hands.
God's peace is much like the food served up at The Donut Hole. It is satisfying and nourishing. Except there's always a table waiting and I can always be first in line. He'll serve up an awesome feast if I am willing to taste. The food is always hot and ready fit for my indulgent consumption. The open sign is always lit. He waits patiently, eager to feed me. All I have to do arrive ready and willing to partake.
I'll take the booth by the window, please.
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