Sunday, June 7, 2009

Officer Dole is not as Nice as Officer May

This morning, my friend Melanie and I drove down to Anderson to attend the church that we go to during the school year – Mercy House. Which is awesome, by the way. It’s worth the two hour drive. I’m hoping to go a few more times this summer.

Anyway, the message was really thought-provoking. It was over Hebrews 3, with a focus on where the author says that Jesus is more important than Moses. Matt stressed that for that to be relevant to us today, we should fill in the blank with something that would be insulting to us if he claimed Jesus was more important than it. Jesus is more important than __________ (patriotism, family, consumerism, my hopes and dreams, etc). And he ended with a really beautiful comment about perspective that felt like it was meant just for me, so needless to say I had a lot to mull over.

I decided to be responsible though and wait until my highway driving was finished (taking Mel to Indy so she could catch her bus and then driving back up until I went off I-69).

So I turned onto state road 5 and turned off my music, thinking that now I could pray and reflect and tackle the message. After all, I had driven this road a million times, to and from Taylor, I knew the twists and turns and small towns. No big deal.

I had been very careful all day to follow the speed limit after my incident last weekend (see previous note), even highway driving. Vehicles were annoyed with me and passed me, but I stuck to 70. So I kept an eye on my speedometer while I was thinking and praying, making sure the needle stayed right around 55.

I was right in the middle of a catharsis of sorts when I looked in my rearview mirror and saw flashing lights.

Not wanting to even wonder about how long he had been following me, I pulled over. The officer stepped out of the car.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“Was I speeding?”

“Do you know the speed limit through this stretch?”

“No…”

“40.”

Dang it.

“You were going 54! Give me your license and registration… you really didn’t see me by the side of the road?”

“No.” (I was able to find all the required objects more quickly this time since I had just had them out last Saturday)

“I was right there! The only way I could have been more obvious is if my lights were on.”

He was cranky.

The only reason I know his name is because of the signature on my speeding ticket.

Jesus is more important than my criminal record?

Perhaps.

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