crime and punishment

This afternoon, I got a parking ticket.

I wasn't parked in the handicapped spot. And I had excuses to back me up.I just about called the police department to complain. I almost convinced myself they would sympathize and cancel it out. I was almost sure that they would be thrilled to hear me tell the story from my perspective.

On the way to town, I mentioned the incident to Mark.

"Well, were you parked in the two hour parking spot for more than two hours."
"Well, yes."
"Okay, then just pay the ticket."

Yes, you are right, my dear who makes up for my lack of level-headedness. This is real life.

The temptation is to think my situation is special. The four hours I spent parked I was across the street preparing to serve my community. I wasn't running up dept at my favorite department store (of which there isn't such a thing) or getting sloshed (of which I haven't yet resorted to drown my sorrows).

But in real life, there are consequences. In real life, when writing the check to cover insurance for the next three months slips my mind, my agent doesn't worry about crushing my self-esteem, I get a note that my coverage is soon to be revoked.

In real life, I don't always get an explanation of why. No, I have to drive 35 m.p.h. through a town of five houses because the sign reminds me. Even though 50 mph would be plenty slow, in my opinion. Last time I had to slow down to 35 through Wirock, no one was standing around waiting to hear my opinion about it.

In real life, God very often asks me to be obedient without a full explanation. He has a history of doing that.

A very old Abraham. His one prize child upon which history rests. God tells him to give his son up.

Noah gets his orders to spend the next 300 years of his life building a boat that would float. He'd not heard of rain before.

So in real life, I must help my children understand that life doesn't revolve around their whims and wishes. Because in real life, opportunities disguise themselves in hard situations and bad timing. Having been entrusted with their training, I must teach them to know God as laid out in Scripture. Their choices are best decided with this knowledge. I must help them, in my very human way, to understand how to stand before a very un-human, very big, very loving yet just God.

It would be laughable for me to dialogue with God about some better ways to do what He is doing. Or to even offer Him some suggestions on more superior methods. But I have been guilty of such.

Unless however I do not think He knows best. Or that He is not the single Creator of each soul. Or that His love for each soul is much more unconditional than our puny human minds can even think of carrying out. Or that I think I can do better.

Ironically, this isn't the first time I've parked in that same parking area for longer than two hours. This is the third time. But this third time was the first time I noticed it was a two-hour parking slot.

And this third time and $25 later, I know that two-hour parking means two not four. I won't park there again for four hours.

My natural self thinks the punishment is unfair and shouldn't apply to me. My redeemed self knows that I've been corrected and that correction, however unflattering and unnatural, will prevent a repeat offense.

Now if only my short temper could be curbed with a white ticket under my wiper and a small fine.