The Difference

by Cindy Hester

This is a poem written not long ago, and I felt it to be an appropriate writing to submit since October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. I pray that my heart-felt words help others in recognizing the signs of unhealthy and/or abusive relationships before they become so enmeshed that it is hard to break free. God bless, and thank you for your interest in my writing.

I felt the autumn breeze upon my face

And watched my parent’s sweet embrace

Their love had stood the test of time

Love at its finest hour, sublime

They honored one another's heart

They stood together, not apart

Yet free their souls to grow and learn

As independent cogs do turn

Within a jeweler's watch of gold

Much too priceless to be sold

Or cast before a careless one

To be destroyed and left for done

Instead they knelt before the King

And placed before Him everything

Their lives, their home, their children too

They gave to Him and they'd stayed true

To pledges made so long ago

And this is how I came to know

What Christ designed for man and wife

Did not include abuse and strife

I knew that day things had to change

My life I'd need to rearrange

In order to fulfill the plan

Untouched by any human man

We'd lost our way, I'm sad to say

But there would dawn a brand new day

With strength renewed I'd fly up high

With eagles way up in the sky

My wounded heart would slowly heal

When placed upon the Potter's wheel

Reshaped the broken pieces now

Before Him, how I gladly bow

I dance with joy before the throne

Ne’er again to feel alone

With Him first place I learned to love

And never place someone above

His rightful place as Savior, King

And now I gladly wear this ring

A symbol of respect and joy

He will not use me as a ploy

In selfish plots to meet a need

Left there by someone's selfish deed

Standing bowed and cowered down

With my pain masked, about to drown. 

1-800-799-7233

1-800-787-3224 (TTY)

http://www.thehotline.org

http://www.breakthecycle.org

http:www.loveisrespect.org

The Legend of an Aggie Baptist Preacher

by Cindy Hester

This particular post was originally written, submitted to, and published by Hometown Journey Magazine here in Chambers County. Amazingly, after my story was published, individuals from numerous locations have contacted both the magazine and me with related stories of how his ministry touched their lives. It brings me great joy to share his story with you.

Having been reared in a small farming community, he grew up living a simple, happy life. As a child, he had no high aspirations of doing extraordinary things in his life. He was simply a boy growing up being taught to love the Lord God with all his heart, honor his father and mother, work hard, love his neighbor as himself, be a man of his word, honor his country, and to do unto others as he would have them do unto him.

While in high school a local teacher saw great potential in his business and ranch skills and took the time to talk to his parents about considering letting him further his education by going to college. I am quite sure this was no easy undertaking. This boy was an only child, and he helped his father with work on the farm. There were also finances to consider. It was agreed he could go with the teacher to visit the campus at Texas A&M and talk to the staff about the possibilities of enrolling. A few short months later, as a kid of seventeen he found himself packing his bags and heading to College Station with high hopes and the prayers and support of his family and community.

His uncle drove in from Louisiana to help him to move onto campus. This was the late 1940’s, and most people did not have vehicles fit to travel too far from home.  His Uncle Frank had a nice, new car that would make the trip. I can only imagine the nervous excitement filling that car during the nearly three hour trip to College Station. I am sure there was much advice from his Momma, and a lot of responses of “I know, Momma” Take a little anticipation, add the emotions of pride and excitement mix with tinges of sadness and anxiety, then fold ever so gently into a long car ride with one menopausal momma, a son, a daddy, and a mischievous uncle…now there is a recipe for an interesting car ride if you ask me. 

Soon he was waving goodbye as they strained waving back at him until out of sight. There he was, a kid who had never been this far away from home - no familiar faces, no family, no friends, no car, and no telephone. The only thing he was truly sure of was his name, that he was a freshman member of the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M, and there was no quick or easy way home.

There were numerous challenges that would in today’s world be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Being a member of The Corps of Cadets at that time meant preparation for military service, so it was more or less the equivalent of boot camp. If he wanted to communicate with home, he wrote letters. Telephones just weren’t available like they are today. Also, since receiving a vehicle upon receiving one’s driver’s license was not a rite of passage in those days, trips home mostly occurred at the holidays. Even then, the main mode of transportation home for the majority of students was to hit the road walking, get your thumb up and start hitchhiking. As I said earlier, road trips were rare and special events. He toughed it out, however, and he was rewarded by earning his Bachelor’s Degree in Ranch Management in the spring of 1952.

Not long after graduation, Uncle Sam called upon him for service in the Korean War. During the late 1940’s and early 1950’s whenever a student signed up to become a member of the Corps of Cadets at A&M, military service followed. An humble sense of pride could be seen in his demeanor whenever he spoke of his journey overseas to serve. A Peace Treaty was signed just prior to his arrival in Korea, but political unrest still remained. Two of my favorite stories he told about his days in the military were of his ship ride through rough seas when he was deployed, and the challenge of leading convoys of trucks loaded with supplies up the narrow winding mountain roads, getting halfway up only to meet a truckload of locals who had snuck past check points coming down the mountain. Everything would come to a grinding halt, until a compromise could be reached. Often times the deadlock would end in his having to guide his convoy of trucks back down the mountain, single file, in reverse and start the trip back up once the road was clear.

These days away from home broadened his view of the world and its people. He seemed to have a natural, God-given interest in the intrinsic value of each person with whom he came in contact. This time had also served him well in helping him to better understand the world outside of the small community he called home. There was no mistaking there were hard times growing up on the farm, but there was love. There was also the comfort of knowing that a faithful community of people stood behind one another. He learned that this kind of security was not available to all people in all parts of the world, and it made a lasting impression on his heart.

Attending church after returning home, he noticed a beautiful brunette playing the piano. As she turned around, he was struck by the realization how a cute young girl could grow into such a beautiful, graceful woman. One of the ladies in the church happened to take note of the look on his face when he looked at the young piano player, and she began conspiring to fix the two of them up. I am thinking it did not take a whole lot of coaxing since they were both apparently quite taken with one another. After a courtship that consisted mostly of attending church, revivals, weddings, funerals, and gospel singings, he popped the question. On September 1, 1956, a loving marriage began that would grow and thrive until they were parted by his death in July of 2011.

Not long after marrying he decided it would be wise to take advantage of his GI bill and return to school in an effort to expand earning opportunities. He enrolled in Stephen F. Austin University and earned a second Bachelor of Science Degree in Forestry. Soon after he found a job working in the timber industry, and his people skills, ability, and strong work ethic soon earned him chances for advancement. Part of his work assignment placed him in contact with property owners from whom the company had purchased rights for the timber, and in some cases, the land on which the timber grew.

One particular day, a black gentleman he had come to know and respect approached him cautiously holding out a map. He looked at the ground nervously pointing to the paper in his hand saying, “Mr. Hood, I believe your company made a miscalculation resulting in them shorting me on the amount they paid me.”

Mr. Hood checked the paper, and seeing the gentleman was correct asked if he would ride with him to the office so they could get it corrected right away. Mr. Hood was aware of the amount of courage and pride it took for this gentleman to approach him. Unfortunately, during the early 1960’s the shameful level of racial prejudice left many in fear of speaking up, especially to a white company man.  The gentleman nodded, the hint of a proud smile at the corners of his mouth and appreciation his eyes.

Mr. Hood and his wife, Gracie, were people of faith. They knew Christ as their personal Savior. They had a relationship with their Heavenly Father, and Dad especially had a heart to reach out and minister to others telling the of Christ’s love for them. His love for his God had taken root and grown since being back home in church. The deeper the relationship grew, the stronger his faith and trust became. He had begun serving in a leadership position as a deacon and leading the singing in a local church. Although he loved serving in these capacities, he felt God was calling to something more, and he was fighting it.

A couple of weeks after taking the gentleman into the office to correct the amount he had been paid for his property, Mr. Hood went back to make sure the man had received his check for the difference. As they stood there talking he could tell something was not right. The gentleman finally told him that the company had misspelled his name, and he was unable to cash or deposit the check. This news greatly frustrated Mr. Hood. He suggested they take another ride to the office to have the name corrected immediately. Afterwards Mr. Hood promised to accompany him to the bank to ensure he was able to do whatever he needed with the check. The gentleman argued that he did not want to be a bother or create any trouble. Mr. Hood assured him he wanted to help make things right.

As promised, the check was corrected, and the gentleman was able to cash his check. On the drive back to his home, the grateful man kept telling Mr. Hood how much he appreciated it. Then he said something that would completely change the direction of Mr. Hood’s life. For the first time ever the man looked directly at Mr. Hood and confidently stated, “Mr. Hood, the Good Lord’s gonna’ lay the Book on you.” Confused, Mr. Hood glanced over and said, “Sir?” Once again he said, “The Good Lord is gonna’ lay the Book on you. You are gonna’ preach the word of the Lord.”

At that moment the Holy Spirit came over Mr. Hood like never before. His legs got weak, began to tremble, and he could barely shift the clutch on that old company truck he was driving. In that moment he knew exactly what he had been wrestling with, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what it was God intended for him to do. It didn’t matter that he had spent time and money preparing his life to go a different direction. God had a plan. God knew exactly what He had in mind. God's hand was on Mr. Hood's life from the day he was born in the bedroom of that little farmhouse in Texas to the day he was riding down that country road with God's messenger of destiny. This gentleman was meant to deliver the message of Mr. Hood's next assignment –the one God had been preparing him for all along. In that moment a decision was made to follow God’s calling on his life. He went home after work to share the news with his wife, who seemed to already know in her heart of hearts. They prayed together dedicating their lives, their marriage, and the lives of their two young daughters at the time to serving the Lord in ministry.

Pastor Hood went on to serve his community by dedicating over fifty years of his life in the ministry of sharing the Gospel of Christ. During that time He pastored three churches, one of those being a mission church God gave him the vision to establish. God used him to build Chesswood Baptist Church from a handful of people meeting in a small Dairy Treat building into a thriving congregation. He resigned after twenty-five years of pastoring at Chesswood. He left the church to “retire”, but after two weeks of unrest, he accepted a call to pastor Soda Baptist Church as interim pastor until they could find a full-time pastor. He ended up serving the people of that congregation fifteen years. At the ripe young age of seventy-nine he retired for real. His health had begun to quickly deteriorate, and he was soon to discover he was in the final stages of battling a rare, rapidly growing type of cancer. It was simply time for him to go home to his reward in heaven.

I can tell you from personal experience this man lived his faith. His relationship with his Heavenly Father was as natural to him as breathing. He really did not have to announce his Christianity to anyone. He simply lived it. You see this dear man was my father, and I loved and respected him far more than I could ever share in words. As his children, my sisters and brother watched him grow as a human being guided by spiritual principles. He and my Mom raised four children. By tagging along on trips to visit shut-ins and the elderly in nursing homes, friends and church members having surgery and sickness in hospitals, families who had lost loved ones at the funeral home, or someone who was simply down and needed someone to care, we learned that life was about more than our little world. We learned we were put here on this earth for a purpose much bigger than ourselves. We learned there was a certain joy in doing things for our Lord. We saw Dad be the arms, hands, and feet of Jesus to people who had probably never experienced a touch of Christ’s love, only to hear him say afterward that he received a far greater blessing than they possibly could have.

His love of life , his endless youthful spirit, his boundless love and wisdom, his dedication and loyalty to those he loved and believed in, his sense of humor, his unique, country preacher style of sharing God’s word in such a personal, practical way – each of these attributes are so dearly missed since he left for his heavenly home. The evening before my Daddy’s funeral there was what we call a viewing here in the south. The family arrived early to be given a little private time prior to the public arriving. Once the doors of the funeral home were opened to the public, much to our amazement we learned there was a line of people waiting winding around the building and long out into the streets. Dad would have been floored at the number of folks who showed up to honor his life.

The day of his funeral, over 780 people attended the service. Countless telephone calls, emails, and cards came in after the funeral telling us they could not attend because of timing. We were approached in numerous places by individuals telling us how Dad had led them to the Lord or had helped them in some way. One I will never forget was a young man who approached my Mom at a service station while we were filling up her vehicle with gas on the way back to her house after the viewing. It was apparent the man had lived a hard life. With tears in his eyes, he said, “Excuse me Ma’am, I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about Brother Frank. You see, he helped me out once when nobody else would. He treated me like a person. I loved that man. He was a good man.” What a tribute, and what a blessing to hear as a daughter terribly missing her father. I felt his legacy would live on long after his mortal body was gone.

God had a plan for Dad’s life, Mom’s life, all of our lives, and He has a plan for your life too. Lay your dreams out there. Ask for God’s direction, and go after them with all of your might. Just remember to leave enough room in there for a detour should God ask you to take one. You see, He took Dad through a time of learning and seasoning before bringing him to the point of ministry. You never know what the circumstances in your life are preparing you for. I can promise you this – whatever the circumstances, they are not without purpose. Make Christ the Lord and Savior of your life. Ask Him to take your circumstances and to give them purpose. Seek God and His will for your life and He will lead you in fulfilling your destiny.

Proverbs 3:5-6

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. "(NIV)

Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Psalms 37:23

"My steps are ordered by the Lord."

Back Row Left to Right: Daughter, Mary Booth, Son, Andy Hood, Daughter, Melody Aragon, Daughter, Cindy Hester

Front Row: Brother Frank Edward Hood & Wife, Grace Hood

This writing is dedicated to my Daddy, Frank Edward Hood. I love you.

♥♥♥THE HEART REMEMBERS♥♥♥

09/15/31 – 07-23-11

Grabbing Onto Growth

by Cindy Hester

What an amazing week this past week was! God blessed me with the opportunity to worship with my Momma last weekend, and to hear her and my daughter minister to young adults at our church. 

Mom and I then traveled to Seattle, Washington where I attended one of the most informative work conferences I have experienced to date. We had a couple of evenings of planned events, and another couple of evenings on our own to take in the sights. We must have crammed two weeks of fun into those evenings. We stayed up laughing and talking until the late hours (or early hours,) but I felt refreshed and ready to learn each day.

Perhaps the most important thing I learned, however, was to grab hold of those precious opportunities God presents us to create memories. I also realized moments of restoration. There was a time when I wouldn't have even considered hopping on a plane with my 77 year old Mom and just the two of us flying across the United States. I wouldn't have had the confidence to walk into a room of strangers at a company meet and greet and enjoy making conversation, or venturing out to points unknown in a city where I have never driven.

A few short years ago, I was crippled by the belief I could not trust myself to do such things. God has a way of bringing His children full circle by restoring us in ways far beyond our wildest expectations. God granted the opportunity, and Mom and I reached out in faith grabbed it. Had either of us allowed our fear or insecurities to rule, we would have missed out on a priceless gift.

Many may not understand the significance of this experience for me. However, anyone who has ever been the circumstances that ruled a part of my past will totally understand. If you find yourself in a similar situation in your present, take heart. God knows where you are, and His plans for you include abundance, and safety, and security in Him. Take heart, and "Don't let the inside of you shrink to the size of your present circumstances." Ron Cox

Joel 2:25-26, ESV I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you. You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame.

Overwhelmed

by Cindy Hester

"From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I." Psalm 61:2

Dear Lord, my heart is overwhelmed. There are so many unknowns. There are so many "should haves" and "I wish I would haves." The days are filled with "I wish I could" and "someday I plan," but in a flash the day is gone and the evening is filled with "I wonder if I ever will." I feel as though the sands of time are slipping through my fingers leaving only the tiniest of fragments in my grasp.

As time passes, responsibilities increase. I pray I will make time to build those lasting relationships with my children and grandchildren. I pray I will live a life that leaves more of a legacy behind than what I did for a living, or what type of car I drove, or what kind of activities I participated in.

I am overwhelmed Lord, because my heart longs to slow down long enough to recognize those things that are of utmost importance to you. Those things of lasting value. I long to walk hand in hand with my husband in the quiet of the evening leaving the world's pressures far behind. I long to laugh and play with my grandchildren, holding them close before sticky candy kisses are a thing of the past. I long to tell them of Your love and grace and live before them in such a way that I really wouldn't have had to say a word..they would have known You by the way I lived and loved.

I long to build integrity and earn the respect of my children as a Godly woman. I long to love my family in such a way they know how their being a part of my life has forever changed me for the better. I want my friends to understand their value in my eyes. Most of all, I long to show Your love and grace to them all ,despite my failures.

Lord, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I, for my soul is overwhelmed within me. It is only through You and in Your timing that these things can be accomplished. Help me to know when to say yes, and when to say no. Help me when there is no choice. I place my present and my future into Your loving hands. I pray for others who also feel overwhelmed, and I thank You that *because of Your great love, we are not consumed, for Your compassions never fail. They are new every morning. Your faithfulness is great. You are my portion, therefore I will wait for You. You are close to those whose hope is in You, to the one who seeks You. Help me to remember that it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

I pray these things in the name of Jesus, Amen.

*Lamentations 3:22-26, My praying the scriptures paraphrase.

Overcoming

By Cindy Hester

My nephew posted this photo he took and his scripture thought onto my wall this morning. It struck a place deep in my heart. God has brought me so far from the place where He rescued me. I can't help but shout in thankful praise for this. 

That said, I am still a work in progress. Each day I am faced with choices, and often in my human frailty, I fail. As God's child, I know my sins were forgiven the day I submitted my life to Him as my Lord and Savior. As I have grown in my relationship with Christ, I no longer want anything coming between Him and me.

As long as we are walking in this broken world, however, we will deal with the effects and consequences of sin - both our own sin and the sins of others. This often leaves us feeling broken and useless. The picture and words Frank shared reminds me of the overcoming hope we all have. God can still take "the busted stuff I have and redeem if for something beautiful for Him."

Have a blessed Sunday.

Photo by Frank Aragon

I  pray  the Lord will take the busted stuff I have and redeem if for something beautiful for Him.
"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer." (Psalm 19:14 ESV)

#prayformaggie #rust #barrell #train #old#worshipleader #worship — at Pier 39, Port Of Galveston TX.

Broken Pieces

by Cindy Hester

I must admit God, I sometimes have trouble believing you could love me. After all, I'm nowhere close to perfect, and some days I struggle with tolerating my own behavior. Why is it easier to retain the negative than to accept the positive about myself? I once thought this to be equivalent to humility, but You've helped me to see this behavior is actually more equivalent to rebellion against the all-powerful, all-forgiving God you are. I am beginning to see that I must allow You to clear my heart and mind to receive Your perfect correction and Your positive instruction in order to grow. You created me. My constant rejection of Your handiwork and Your plan for me keeps me locked in chains of bondage that You never intended me to wear.

But I have so many broken pieces Lord. I walk in Your power upright in faith for a time, then out of nowhere, I divert my eyes, I'm blindsided, and I stumble and fall. You, however, wait patiently for my cry for help, then in love, You reach down and lovingly draw me to my feet, lift my head, and restore my dignity and faith.

Maybe we are all a little like the unique gifts I saw in a restaurant I recently visited while on vacation. My eyes were especially drawn to some wall hangings made from broken pieces of rock, glass, and discarded jewelry. The artist had carefully taken each one - useless on its own merit - and created a beautiful mosaic covering a piece of wood cut in the shape of a cross. Once all fragments were in place, the finished product was sealed and made whole with a clear coating to secure each piece and to give it a brilliant finish. One couldn't help but notice their beauty as they hung against the bright pink backdrop sparkling under a brilliant display light.

As I stood studying the design, Jesus gently began speaking to my heart. He reminded me to bring to Him the broken, discarded pieces of my life and allow Him, the Master Artist, to place them against the backdrop of His Son, Jesus Christ's sacrifice on the cross. You see, whenever we ask and accept His forgiveness and grace, He seals these pieces together through the blood of Christ into a colorful mosaic, creating a thing of beauty out of our brokenness. If we then submit ourselves to Him and allow Him to display us against the backdrop of His matchless power under the brilliance of His glory, we cannot help but draw others unto Him. 

Like these crosses cannot boast in their own power of what they have created of themselves, we must be willing to release our broken pieces to Him in order for Him to make of us a new creation. We must trust Him with the design...we must trust Him to see the beauty in the brokenness...we must trust and allow Him to work in and through us to do His good and perfect will. We are not asked to do this in and of our own power, and we are to give Him all the glory. Thank You Jesus. 

"Dear Lord, I bring to You my broken pieces. Lord, create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me. Please take the broken fragments of my life and create a thing of beauty that can be used to direct others to Your saving grace. I pray for those who are hurting today. Although the situations they are facing seem hopeless or maybe even cruel, You know the plans You have for them, plans to prosper and not to harm, plans to give a hope and a future. You alone have the power to create beauty from ashes and to give hope to the hopeless. I praise You in the storm, and I praise You in the good times. I pray that I will allow You to use me however, wherever You want to reveal Your glorious, amazing grace. I thank You for what You are already doing to bring restoration, joy, and purpose back into the lives of many who so desperately need a touch from Your loving hand today. It is not in my power I ask these things, but through the power of Your Son, Jesus Christ, that I pray. Amen."

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord  for the display of his splendor." Isaiah 61:1-3

Practice Safety...Order Delivery ;-)

by Cindy Hester

I nervously await the knock at my front door. The anticipation is more than I can bear as I try to decide whether I should go ahead and change into my comfy sweats and T-shirt. I reluctantly decide to push aside my desire to be comfortable in favor of looking somewhat professional. Maybe he would at least take into consideration the fact that I had worked all day.

Hearing the sound of car door, I stand up tall, lightly brushing away crumbs - remnants of the Tostitos that had incessantly called my name from the cupboard a few moments earlier. Taking a deep breath, I gather my courage and slowly open the front door.

He couldn't be more than twenty-one. Avoiding eye contact, embarrassed I stare down at the pair of Nike's I am quite sure I helped buy. He grins and confidently blurts out, "Why good evening Mrs. Hester!" It is in this moment I realize he's been here so many times he knows me by name. "I've become quite familiar with this address." I cut him off mid-sentence. Attempting to change the subject, I quickly ask how much I owe. Before he could answer, my husband yells from the recliner, "She's quit cooking for me son! I think she's forgotten how!!"

Grinning and shaking his head, this twenty-something young male places the ticket in front of me to sign before releasing two nutritious salads and one not so nutritious pepperoni pizza into my hands. I can't help but wonder what he thinks I will do if he gives me the food first. Slam the door in his face and run? He knows where I live! I digress.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. I had done really well. I actually cooked two nights in two weeks! My husband - who by the way is a great cook...and who loves to cook...and who delights in reminding me how I am not making something exactly the way he or his grandmother would make it - gets home every afternoon around 3:30 p.m. I, on the other hand, usually arrive home between 5:30 and 5:45 p.m..  I have therefore come to the reasonable conclusion that if he hasn't started cooking something by the time I get home, this is my clue to get out the delivery menus and begin deciding what we want for dinner. Isn't this the way it is supposed to work?!

Last Thursday, I came home from a long day of tests at a local medical facility. Neither me nor my husband felt like cooking or going out for dinner, but we each wanted different items from different restaurants. No problem! We knew that our two favorite local restaurants don't charge an extra delivery fee, so we simply ordered from two different locations. Thirty minutes later I hear a knock at the door. I answer, and there stands our regular delivery guy from our most frequented salad and pizza delivery place. Looking as though he had come to convey heartfelt condolences he quietly said, "Mrs. Hester, is everything okay? We noticed that your order was less tonight, and we were worried something was wrong with either you or Mr. Hester."

Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I thanked him for his concern. Hoping the news wouldn't completely destroy him, I explained that this evening, my husband was craving a different kind of pizza. Tonight was the kind of night only a Pizza Hut Meat Lover's Pizza would do. 

To ensure he knew I hadn't permanently silenced Charlie for ratting me out about never cooking, I called him to the door to say hello. Saying our goodbyes, all guilt over all of the meals I've had delivered suddenly melted away. I decided it was time once and for all to declare ordering delivery versus cooking properly justified. This practice can now be attributed to more than mere laziness, convenience, or lack of skills in the kitchen. Ordering delivery vs. cooking, ladies and gentlemen, should now be considered an act beneficial to one's safety and well-being. 

To reduce stress, I order the same meal to be delivered to my home at least twice a week from the same restaurant. I always order from the same telephone number so that my name and address is already in their system. I always use the same method of payment, and never under any circumstances deviate from normal patterns of ordering unless I am prepared to give an explanation for doing so. And if for some reason I do happen to deviate from those patterns because something truly is wrong, I can rest assured that someone will wonder what has happened to the Greek salad, extra black olives, grilled chicken salad, extra chicken, dressing on the side over on Rocky Hollow. Be diligent my friend. The life you save could be your own!