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Where The Hot Dogs Are

In our first year of marriage, Chris and I participated in a 5K to raise money for the school where I worked. We were nearing the end of the race and passed a boy who was walking alone, trudging up a small hill.  He had stopped using all of his muscles so that his arms were just swinging beside his body and his feet were stomping the ground.  He was rather chubby, around the age of 10.  When we got up beside him, he said words we have never forgotten and actually use in our home on a regular basis,

“I just want to go where the hot dogs are.”

The picture of that little boy still cracks me up, but his words so resonate with me.  Do they you?  At the end of a long day or week, Chris and I will sometimes call each other and whine, “I just want to go where the hot dog are.”  I want to escape reality.  I want to relax.  Run from the troubles of this world.  I want to get chips and cheese dip and sit on the couch with hours of mindless T.V. with no one bothering me, while someone magically cleans my house and teaches my kids Spanish.

No matter what you want to run to — vacation, spending, drinking, eating, cleaning, television — they are all temporary.  Reality is found in Christ.  True rest and relaxation can only come through Him.

So, as you head into the weekend, know it will not be enough.  It is not enough to sustain you.  This is not to discourage.  This is to let you know that hope in Christ is what will propel your joy for Monday morning.

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