There are two venerable Chicago restaurants located about a mile west from my home. One is Manny’s Deli, which is renowned for having key Illinois and Chicago politicians swing through. After President Obama won the election in 2008, where was his first public stop? Manny’s. The other restaurant isn’t quite as well known, but I go by it all the time on when head west for a run: The White Palace Grill, serving diner food since 1939. Despite all the changes in the neighborhood (White Palace is now surrounded by a Whole Foods, Starbucks and Panera Bread), it’s hung in there.
I’ve only been to White Palace a few times in the almost 11 years I’ve lived in the South Loop, but it’s open 24/7 and I find it oddly delighting that no matter what time of day, I can go over for a stack of pancakes. That’s now changed, of course. The pandemic has meant that White Palace had to close for a time though they now, like every other restaurant, offer take-out. Despite everything, White Palace is always there, ready to serve.
I was reading an excerpt from a book by Jan Richardson the other day called, “In the Sanctuary of Women.” It’s a poetic blessing of sorts:
Let it be
that you will ever
turn yourself Godward.
In clarity
and in confusion,
in distress
and in delight,
may your mind
find its home and its rest
in the One whose thoughts
are ever stayed on you.
The first part of this writing is encouraging: The hope that we will “ever turn” ourselves to God no matter what our state of mind: confusion, clarity, distress, delight. But it was the last few words of this blessing that really stuck with me: “the One whose thoughts are ever stayed on you.”
I sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that God only thinks about me when I think about God. If that’s the case, God becomes Something or Someone that we can simply turn on and off, a cosmic help that we go to when we need a helping hand. But this blessing reminded me of a greater truth. God’s thoughts are ever stayed on me. When I ignore God. Neglect God. Push God to lower priority. Doesn’t matter. God’s thoughts are ever stayed on me.
It might be a crude comparison in connecting an all-night diner with the God who never ceases to love and think about me or you, no matter how much or how little we love and think about God. But there’s a small comfort in knowing I can get pancakes at 3 a.m. And an even greater comfort in knowing I have Someone who will be there with me.
White Palace Grill photo by Thomas Hawk