Hot Dogs for Jesus

It's the tail end of the summer. The last of the dog days of August. And it's a time that always reminds me of my growing up and my stints at the Western Idaho State Fair in Boise. It always happened during this time of the year, just before we were subjected to our back to school ickiness. It was always a time of zippy rides, mom and dad holding us tightly at their sides as we traversed the scariness of the midway, smoke and haze in the air, the 4-H animal tents, staring at the Beer Garden and wondering what type of person would be "in there," begging for a Carmel apple knowing full well that I wouldn't actually finish it, and smelling the yummy churros, grilled onions, and burgers. Oh, and the hot dogs. Yeah, the hot dogs....which brings me to another point.

I was a member of Central Assembly Christian Life Center in Boise for years. We had a giant choir called the Singing Ambassadors -- about 120 members. At 9pm sharp each night, we'd sing a one-hour extravaganza of upbeat, happy Christian music on the Main Stage. The place was usually packed. Everything we did, we did for Jesus. Everything. Including the hot dog booth that we ran each and every year at the Fair. It was a modified single-wide trailer that we sold all sorts of hot dogs out of. We had names for different kinds of funky names for the dogs (the entirety of which I can't quite remember right now) -- like Missionary Dog, Junior for Jesus Dog, and others that I don't' recall. And we had this giant wooden HOT DOGS FOR JESUS sign up over the front of the booth to advertise the holiest of dogs on the midway at the fair. We'd work late into the night, clean up, and be back the next day to witness our way to people's hearts and stomachs through a hot dog. Who would have thought that a hot dog would bring people to their knees at the alter of the Lord?