I got my driver’s license the week I turned sixteen years old and up until last year, I had never been pulled over for speeding. For seventeen years, my driving record remained clean, but everything changed last Memorial Day weekend (2008) when our family skipped town and headed to Columbus, Ohio for a much-needed vacation. We were not even an hour into the trip when I was clocked (from a helicopter) going 70mph in a 55mph zone, which resulted in an $80 ticket. I hated every moment of it especially because my wife was loving the fact that it was me being pulled over instead of her. Let’s just say her driving record is not as clean as mine. The kids were also in the backseat laughing and saying, “Daddy, you got pulled over by a policeman! Daddy, you got pulled over by a policeman! Look at the flashing lights.” Over the last year, I have attempted to speed less, but most of the time I’m oblivious to my disregard for the speed limit.
Well, this past Memorial Day weekend (2009) marked my one year anniversary of being ticket free; however, the celebration was cut short as I made my way to work early Thursday morning. I’m sure I was singing praises to God in the car until I noticed flashing lights in my rear view mirror. Singing praises turned to desperate prayers as I pleaded for the guy next to me to get pulled over rather than me. My prayer was quickly shot down and I reluctantly pulled into a small parking lot. Of course, my prayers resumed as I fumbled around in my glove compartment (anyone know why it is called a glove compartment) to find all the pertinent information. A very tall and muscular officer whose arms were as big as my legs approached my car and asked me a few questions:
1. Do you know what the speed limit is here? Yes. 40mph
2. Do you how fast you were going? I have no idea.
Following the brief interrogation, the officer returned to his car as I awaited my fate. A few minutes later he came back to my window with paper in hand and said, “I’m giving you a warning…” blah, blah, blah. After he said that he was only giving me a warning, I didn’t hear anything else he said. The only “pastoral” thing I could think to say was, “That is very gracious of you. Thank you.” In my mind, I really wanted to jump out and give him a big hug, but better judgment overcame me. I figured he wouldn’t understand the bromance.
As I think about the officer’s actions, I am reminded of my own standing before God. The guilty receives grace even though he does not deserve it. “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).
