Criminal

Thursday, I was heading into downtown Branson for a coffee date with a dear friend. As I got closer to the downtown area, I realized that traffic was pretty backed-up (no surprise for July in Branson). So, I did something that really gets on my nerves when other people do it-I pulled into the turn lane several hundred feet before it was legally appropriate to do so and headed on down to the light. About 3 seconds after pulling into said lane, another car pulls out from an adjacent street and hits me.

Now, my initial thought was, "Oh no. This is definitely my fault. I shouldn't have been in the turn lane so soon." I kind of sat there for a second (my logic pretty much turns to something like mashed potatoes in moments like this), then I noticed that the other person had pulled into a nearby parking lot. "Good idea," I thought. So I turned around and followed his lead.

When I got out of my car, the guy was asking if I was okay and was very apologetic. "Hmmm...so he thinks it's his fault. Maybe it is. I'll go with what he says." Long story short, we ended up calling for a police report for insurance purposes. As it turned out, Mr. Police Officer decided the accident was my fault.

Through the whole incident, I remained calm and cool. But there's something about accidents and police officers that can really bring on the waterworks. I picked up the phone to call Zach, and as soon as I said, "It was my fault," the sobs came. Now, he's doing his best to console me and telling me things like,"it's just a car, I'm just glad you're okay" (such a wonderful husband), and I'm thinking, "Good Lord, woman, get ahold of yourself." All the while, the police officer's car is facing mine, and I'm well aware of the fact that he is watching me as I sob uncontrollably in my car.

So I get off the phone with Zach, and the officer comes back over to the car. I rolled down my window, and he starts trying to make me feel better by telling me that he gave the other guy a ticket as well, and it's really up to our insurance companies, etc., etc., etc...Yet, something about him even talking to me again just makes me start crying all over again, and he says, "You're making me feel bad." So then that part of me that wants others to be comfortable and okay kicks in, and, through my sobs, I say, "I-i-itt's o-o-okay." He finally went away.

As I was looking at my ticket today, I noticed that on the bottom in bold red letters it says "Violator's Copy". Violator? Could they not have put something nicer on there? I mean just because I pulled into a turn lane early doesn't make me a violator, does it? Then I went to try to pay my ticket online. On the "Pay Your Ticket" page, the only thing I could find said, "Click here to pay your criminal citation." "Well, mine's just a traffic violation. I'm not a criminal," I thought. I resisted clicking for awhile as though doing so would somehow permanently brand me a criminal. Certainly, I'm no criminal, right?

Tonight, I drank coffee too late. So, I'm up when I should have had a good 5 hours of sleep behind me by now. And, as I do when I can't sleep, I picked up and began reading a book that many have raved about, The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning. This particular passage really struck me:

On the cross, somehow, some way, Christ bore our sins, took our place, died for us. At the cross, Jesus unmasks the sinner not only as beggar but as a criminal before God. Jesus Christ bore our sins and bore them away. We cannot wash away the stain of our sins, but He is the Lamb who has taken away the sins of the world.

There's that word again, criminal. I love that image he uses of being unmasked. Well, I love it in theory; in actuality, it scares me senseless. It just feels so risky, so naked. Yet, if I am really honest with myself, I can admit that I am very comfortable hiding behind the mask of being good and nice and compliant. If I am even more honest, I can admit that what really bothered me most about the whole car situation is that I got caught, unmasked if you will, for who I am deep down- a criminal, a Law breaker. But I don't want to think of myself that way.

As I write this, I realize that it's not simply that I do not want to think of myself in a negative light, but that I'm afraid of what being a criminal means for me. In the deepest part of me, I still believe that I have to earn God's love (maybe?), but more so I'm afraid of my sin, my inadequacies, my being a criminal, separating me from the precious love of God (which is the most awful thing I could fathom).

Manning writes: The question which the gospel of grace puts to us is simply this: Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? What are you afraid of? Are you afraid that your weakness could separate you from the love of Christ? It can't. Are you afraid that your inadequacies could separate you from the love of Christ? They can't. Are you afraid your inner poverty could separate you from the love of Christ? It can't...Rejection by loved ones or the suffering of loved ones? They can't...Mistakes, fears, uncertainties? They can't. The gospel of grace calls out: Nothing can ever separate you from the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord. You must be convinced of this, trust it, and never forget to remember. Everything else will pass away, but the love of Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever...

Convince me, Lord Jesus. My heart is open to You.