“I’m hungry,” said Victoria as soon as we drove away from church.

“There’s a Krispy Kreme around the corner. Want a doughnut?” I offered.

This suggestion just hung in the air, connecting with no one except my husband.

“It’s too early for lunch, so I think we should get a doughnut,” I said. (When I’m ignored I repeat myself, a habit that is starting to annoy even me.)

Victoria jumped right over that comment and landed with one of her own. “Copeland’s serves brunch.” And without another word, Michael began to drive towards the restaurant. I guess he didn’t want a doughnut after all.

I rarely have to be convinced to dine out. Well, except for one restaurant, which I will not name. It’s part of a chain of restaurants, none local, and I’m the only person I know who avoids the place. Something is either wrong with the food or the service or both, and trust me when I say I am not a difficult customer. I am so happy to eat what I didn’t have to cook that the experience has to really be bad for me to complain. So why do I return? Peer pressure. Someone convinces me that the odds will one day be in my favor.

As I write this, I’m suddenly reminded of the single good experience I’ve had at “the restaurant where only I seem to have a problem.” It happened when Victoria

was no more than 4 years old. She suggested we eat there instead of having lunch at the mall’s food court. And now, suddenly, as I’m writing this, I’m faced with a decision.

I began this column intending

to end with encouragement to always make the choices, not in restaurants, but in life, that are right for you. To refuse the temptation to return to places you know you should just avoid, regardless of who is applying the pressure. To resist relationships that are destructive. To say no to invitations to sin. To reject opportunities to rehash

old arguments. To replace good habits with bad. To stand for what’s right rather than cave to public opinion.

But now, my thoughts rest on Victoria’s boldness in always asking for what she wants. She has complete confidence in our ability to care for her needs, and even a few of her wants. And despite anything you may hear from her four siblings, we really do refuse some of her requests. She even slipped up once and told me, “You’re strict about the right things.”

I hope she has learned to approach her Heavenly Father in the same way, heeding the instruction of Hebrews 4:16 to boldly approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that she may receive His mercy and find grace to help her in time of need. And I hope she realizes that when the answer to a request is, “No,” it’s always because God has her very best interest in mind.

I hope to remember the same things.

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.