So last night Randy and I (since I never cook anymore) decided to have dinner at Macaroni Grill. It's been a while since we've been there -- we've been trying to eat healthier lately. But the Chianti is cheap and good, and the Chicken and Shrimp Scallopini is out of this world. The place was jam packed, and Randy could barely park his new truck (ha-ha... I've been teasing him about that for the past 24 hours). Yet when we walked in, there was a table open for us.

And God was there.

Before I go into detail, I just have to pause for a moment and shake my head. When I'm on Yahoo Answers debating with atheists, trying to stand my ground and state my case for the existence of God, I have to sit there in awe at the simple idea that they've never felt Him before. Seriously?!?! I can't believe that. They've never felt God when hanging out, having a blast with friends? Or when driving on a particularly beautiful stretch of road? Or when playing with babies? They've never had any of those moments that made them sit back and think, "Wow... okay. How absolutely cool is this? This has to be from a greater power." Maybe they haven't -- which makes me feel so sad for them. Or maybe as a Christian, I'm more aware of those moments.

Last night was definitely one of those moments. The hostess sat us in the back, where there was a little window of late-day sunshine streaming through. It kind of gave everything an ethereal glow in that portion of the dim restaurant. The entire dinner was like one slow-motion movie. It was absolutely amazing. The guy and girl at the table directly in front of us were young (early twenties or so) and obviously in the early stages of their relationship. They were a gorgeous looking couple... you know those people who SO won the gene pool lottery? That was them. They were like celebrities. She was brunette, tan and stunning, while he was seriously something out of Hollywood with his perfect good looks. They were so obviously in love, and he just couldn't take his eyes off of her. They flirted, talked and laughed with each other, and they were just so fun to watch. They were completely oblivious to everyone else in the room, and they lingered for more than an hour after they finished eating. "R" and I remember those days. Our love is different now -- stronger, secure, content, not so exciting. Once in a while, while on a date or trip, we'll resurrect those old feelings of the early days of our relationship. It's pretty easy to do... we still love each other. But the day-to-day drudgery of life sometimes gets in the way. We couldn't help but to hold hands while watching them... they brought back great memories and made us smile.

Then there was the large table behind us. There were grandparents, parents and kids, and everyone was laughing and joking and having a good time. At one point, the grandpa stood up, came around to the end of the table (right by us) and began to sing the "Luna Luna Mezzo Mare" song. We clapped for him and he was doing a little jig and having a grand time. His relatives were laughing and cheering him on (the teenagers looked embarrassed, of course). I absolutely love old men -- I think they are the cutest thing ever. This old man was particularly cute... he kept pointing at his wife and at me as he was singing. Even Randy clapped for him. At the end, I applauded wildly and said "Bravo, bravo!" He bowed, and thanked me, and went back to his seat, grinning.

There was a birthday last night. We've been to Macaroni Grill dozens of times and had never seen this: a waiter came around to the birthday table, borrowed one of our chairs, stood up on it, and began singing. It wasn't the traditional birthday song that other Macaroni Grills sing (I looked it up on You Tube). Or maybe it was, and he just sang it differently. But it was loud, on key, perfect and a little haunting. He sang it opera style, and I think all of us were in complete awe over it. No one was expecting that. He was fantastic. My mouth hung open the entire time.

Two men at the table behind us were talking in a language I had honestly never heard before. At another table, an elderly woman (obviously a grandma) sat with a teenage boy -- they were fun to watch. At another table, a dad was out with his daughter. Every table had a special, fun circumstance. I looked around the room, and saw so many amazing things. It was at that moment that I felt God. It was almost like I was suspended in time for a brief moment as I caught a glimpse of it all. The dull sunlight was shining its rays into the room. I saw the young, beautiful couple in front of me bow their heads together to whisper to each other flirtatiously. I heard laughter from the table behind me as the cute old man's wife told him that he sang wonderfully, but was a little stiff in the joints. I heard the chatter of the foreign guys behind me. I saw the dad give his daughter a quick sideways-hug and smile down at her with love. I noticed another man across the room pick up his wife's hand and kiss it. I caught a glimpse of the teenage boy laughing at something his grandmother said. All while the aroma of good food, the taste of great wine and beautiful Italian music filled my senses.

At that point, I smiled big and looked at Randy. "What?" He asked. "What are you smiling about?"

I waved it away with my hand, and took another sip of wine. "Oh, nothing..." I replied. "I just can't help but to smile. With all the horrible things one hears on the news every single day, it's nights like this that remind me that life is truly good. I absolutely love life, and I love people. There is no better way to see God than by looking for Him in other human beings."

After that statement, he smiled back, took my hand and gently kissed it. And it was at that moment when I realized that I wasn't just watching God's work before my eyes... but I was a part of it, too.

There isn't an atheist in the world that can successfully debate that one with me. The proof was in the pasta, my friends.