Farewell to Morton's

Thursday Emily and I had the chance to visit Morton's one last time- and take advantage of our last complimentary dinner.  We found that watching my now former co-workers do what they do best was the best possible way to say farewell.  

For nearly five years I waited tables at their Louisville restaurant, learning much from a company that is particular about everything.  At Morton's everything has to be done just so, and it has to be done very well- a standard that anyone would benefit from being held to for five years.  As a result, they saw local business rise during a recession, filling some of the gap left by sharply declining convention business.  They are the number one diner-rated special occasion restaurant in Louisville, and it's because of the good work they let me be a part of.  

God used Morton's to allow me to work for a rural church for three years, one that couldn't have otherwise afforded me a livable salary.  He used Morton's to allow me to graduate seminary and start our marriage with savings instead of debt- something almost no one in seminary gets to do.  Through it I was allowed to bring the Good News of Jesus to so many lost co-workers, bear a testimony of wise work to all who watched us, and find good jobs for many other seminary students.  They are just a company, run by lost executives, but they work hard and they work well.  And God uses that.  

But He didn't just use them to provide for me- he taught me through them.  I work better at everything I do because they have raised my standard of meticulousness.  I better understand the feast awaiting believers, provided by God himself, because I've gone in five times and eaten Morton's feast on their dime.  Why can I learn such important life lessons from a non-Christian company?  Because it is run by humans who are made in the image of God.  When they run things well, they image Christ- who is at the same time the ultimate human and the very God they are rebelling against- and they don't even know it.  

Now we sit with our bellies still full from last week's feast and our thoughts filled with memories, but then all we could do was enjoy ourselves.  It wasn't a time for bittersweet tears.  Now, however, that time is here.  I will miss these people dearly.  Oh, how I want them to hear and perceive the truths God has made plain to us.  How I wish God would use the Christians who are still among them, many of whom I introduced to the company, to bring the Gospel to them.  He is full of grace, and I have watched Him work there in the past.  May He continue to.  

But now we move on, and we say farewell.  Thank you for five good years, Morton's.  May all of you taste of the better feast.