A story about James MCGinlay
I went into a gas station in Glendale, CA. and a big 6’1”  275 pound gas station attendant with red hair and the toughest looking face I ever saw came to the car. I said,  “It’s pretty hot today, isn’t it?   He said, “It is hot as hell.”   “My friend,” I said, “Put it there.”  His hand was so big that his thumb filled my hand so I held on to his thumb.  I said,  “Do you know there are people in this country who do  believe in it but don’t believe it is a hot place.”    He was trying to pull his thumb away.  But I continued, “you ‘ve no idea how refreshing it is to  come into this gas station and meet a man of God like yourself who not only believes in hell, but believes its hot.”  The cold sweat was pouring down his face.   I said, “Isn’t it wonderful  though, that the Lord Jesus Christ died for us on the cross and shed his precious blood so that you and I might spend eternity in a place where the climate is a little more temperate.”  I released his thumb and he staggered away.  I even had to call him back to ask how much I owed him and that took grace because I’m still a Scotsman.  I don’t believe there will  ever  be another hot day when that fellow doesn’t remember  the previous occasion when to a stranger he tried to describe how hot the other day was.