F.I.F.O. is an acronym for First In First Out. It describes the principle of F.C.F.S. or First Come, First Served. What comes in first is handled first, what comes in next waits until the first is finished, and so on. Another way of looking at it is “queueing” or “standing in line,” where someone or something leaves the queue in the order they arrive.
I was standing in the “queue” at a restaurant today and a young couple decided that FCFS wasn’t the way they wanted to be processed. The queue was only two deep. But they marched straight to the front of the and asked for seating for two. Since the individual in front of me was being attended by another greeter, I came up to the front of the queue; yet, I was pushed back into the number two position because of this couple.
Immediate reaction? Smash their heads between two concrete blocks. Yep! No “what would Jesus do” thoughts here. Just smash their heads between two concrete blocks. I mean, give me a break…I’ve been in a funk, for heaven’s sake. Being Mr. Nice Guy was coming difficultly and turning the other cheek was taking on a different, more sinister and “southernly” significance.
Ever felt that way?
Life isn’t processed via FIFO. The Prince of the Air controls life down here and he’s not about to let it run smoothly, or by any type of “Golden Rule” arrangement. He means business. He wants you to go to hell and, if that’s not possible, he wants to castrate you as a follower of the Jesus Lord. There’s nothing nice about it. His take: “FIFO my cheek(s)! Up yours, cause I rule and I will screw up your day!”
Sheesh, Joe! What’s with the language?
Folks, there’s a war going on and the Evil One intends to win it. He trips me up, slams me with pity parties, influences me to act like the carnal man instead of the spiritual one. And I know that he does the same to you. It’s time to go on a war footing — we aren’t at peace.
At the restaurant I didn’t do anything ugly or rude. I simply smiled and said, “go ahead.” When I go home I found this:
When life is heavy and hard to take,
go off by yourself. Enter the silence.
Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions:
Wait for hope to appear.
Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face.
The “worst” is never the worst.
Why? Because the Master won’t ever
walk out and fail to return.
The Jesus Lord never promised a rose garden. But, he did promise power and life to the fullest. I’ve just got to remember to drop my concrete blocks before I hurt someone . . .