The Price

Last night I went to a French restaurant.  Our waitperson had a thick accent, very French.  The meal was delicious.  She explained all about the ingredients in the various dishes.  The night before that, I was in a fish restaurant.  It was delicious.  Again, the waitperson gave a thorough explanation of all the ingredients and how the food is prepared.  She did not seem to be in any hurry though the restaurant was crowded.  This is dining in San Francisco.  I woke up each of the mornings after, fat and happy.  But I lost my voice, which makes many people happy who think my preaching ridiculous if not heretical.  These wonderful restaurants are located in downtown San Francisco in what used to be warehouses and dumpy office buildings now all fixed up to be restaurants.  What is not fixed is the acoustics.  These places are loud with the customers dining and talking.  I surmise that San Francisco is a town to remind us that we do not yet live in heaven.  This town is very close, but still.  In our non-heaven world, nothing is perfect.  There is always some price to pay for happiness.  I am fat and happy, but with no voice.  Maybe God wants me to be quiet?  OK, but feed me too!