ticket

A wind driven rain splatters my windshield blurring my vision. The rhythmic squeaking of wiper blades fights the precipitation enough for me to see the dark autumn sky reflect off the blackened wet street. It's East Friendship Street. A street I've driven many times traveling to and from the cafe. Proud historical homes and aging trees enclose its concrete curbs. I enjoy driving down Friendship this time of year. Colorful leaves cover the road like a quilt spread gently across the rocker.

Jeff and I just closed the cafe, and I'm weary from a long day of ministry. I steer my 1979 Grand Prix, jamming to WMJI, when a car rushes up behind me. Its brilliant headlights shine in my rearview mirror forcing me to squint. And then...blue and red flashing lights encircle my car.

It's Medina's finest.

"Great," I say under my breath, pulling the car to the side of the street and shifting into park.

I think: This must be a prank. Am I being punked? Is Ashton Kutcher going to pop out from behind a tree? I wasn't speeding. What's going on?

The officer walks to the drivers side door introducing himself and saying, "The reason I pulled you over is because your license plate isn't illuminated."

"Oh," I reply. "It must be burned out. I'm sorry, Sir."

"And I notice," he continues. "You're not wearing your seat belt. Is there a reason why you're not buckled up?"

"Aghh," I moan in disgust. "I totally forgot. I just left work and I'm tired and I...just forgot."

"Sit tight. I'll be back in a minute." The policeman says.

My first thought? Curse at myself. But that wouldn't do any good. So I prayed. Please, Father in Heaven. Please only give me a warning. I don't have a lot of money right now to pay for a ticket of any kind. In Jesus name, Amen.

The officer returns saying, "I'm only going to give you a warning for the license plate light. Make sure you get a new bulb so it's visible."

"I will, thank you sir."

"But I have to give you a ticket for seat belt violation. It's against the law in Ohio to drive without a seat belt. Actually, it's against the law in almost every state."

He politely hands me the ticket above, informs me of what I need to do, and reminds me to buckle up before pulling away. He was a kind officer but now I have to pay a fine (money I don't have). Oh well, I guess this is just another moment where I need to practice trusting Him to provide.

I had a clean record. I was going on some ten plus years without being pulled over and ticketed (hear me whining and defending myself). That great record now blemished, blotched, marked, scarred, tainted, spotted. This stinks (more whining).

One could insert all those adjectives, and more, when examining the human heart. Our heart is blotched with sin. God tickets us for breaking His law. And the fine for our sin-stained heart is death (Romans 3:23 & 6:23). Thankfully, Jesus accepted the penalty for our ticket and paid the fine in full. The fine we deserve to pay (Romans 5:8). Those who confess this truth and believe in Jesus will be saved from God's ticket (Romans 10:9-10).

Is your ticket paid for?