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We were embarking on a mission trip as a family. Or at least we were headed to the airport to meet up with the rest of the team so we could leave altogether. A few days earlier, I had calculated that the journey to our final destination would include a 6-hour car ride followed by an 8-hour flight and then a 4-hour bus ride culminating in a time zone that was 8 hours different from our own. Our trip would be too much for my 6, 5, 3, and almost one year old to handle. My husband and I decided to go a couple of days ahead of the rest of the team to help break up travel and meet everyone at the airport. The morning of our flight, I judged that it would take a 45-minute drive to get to the airport. I forgot, however, to factor in traffic accidents on the freeway and thousands of extra cars on the detour roads.
Instead of the swift trip I had planned for, we crawled mile after mile, snaking our way through pleasant little neighborhoods, watching all the extra time I had given us get eaten up by unsympathetic traffic lights. Finally, I sat in line to face off against our arch-nemesis, the end boss – the left turn light. For whatever reason, the turning light stayed green just long enough for one lone car to be able to turn left. From my spot in line, it had the appearance of an Old Wild West gun duel with a determined car after determined car on one side and the fastest light in the western hemisphere on the other. But car by car failed to accelerate fast enough against the inhuman speeds of this light. Now, here I sat, second in line, with four small kids staring vacantly out of minivan windows, determined not to sit for another three minutes at this intersection. So when the light turned green, I accelerated along with the car ahead and followed as close behind him as I could through the now red turn light. Freedom!
Guilty as Charged
I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the colors of freedom flashing behind me. Red! Blue! Red! Blue! I pulled my car over to the shoulder of the road. The kids were no longer staring vacantly out of their windows, but with the undivided attention, they watched as mom was about to speak with an honorable officer of the law.
Slowly the policeman walked toward my vehicle as I mournfully rolled down my window, “do you know why I pulled you over, Maam?”
Defeatedly, I answered, “Because I was impatient.” I guess my answer surprised him because he laughed slightly. I’m sure honesty is refreshing for a person used to being lied to, but I know when I’m beaten. The officer walked back to his vehicle to write the ticket while I was peppered with questions by the pert peanut gallery that sat behind me. I explained I had done wrong and what the police officer was likely doing at that moment. For the kids, this was the most excitement they’d had in days.
Surprising Outcome
Waiting for a ticket is agonizing, but finally, I saw the officer again climb out of his car and walk towards my minivan. I rolled down my window once more, this time to receive my traffic violation fine. The officer then shares, “Maam, I’m just going to give you a warning this time. Don’t drive impatiently with those beautiful kids in your car. But I have some police car craft kits and stickers I’d like to give your kids if it’s alright with you?”
Stunned, I nodded dumbly and received the four stickers and four craft kits. The officer waved goodbye to my exuberant children, walked back to his vehicle, and went his own way. We got back on our way as well. It was my oldest who spoke first, “Mom, why didn’t he give you a ticket?”
Still processing the unexpected turn of events, I directed my answer to all the listening kids. “That police officer just showed us what mercy and grace look like. I broke the law by driving through a red light, and he should have given me a ticket as a punishment, but in mercy, he didn’t give me what I deserved. Instead, he gave us grace. He gave us what we didn’t deserve, a gift. These little paper crafts will be perfect things to do on our long plane ride. Our God shows us mercy and grace too. When we sin, God should punish us. But, in mercy, when we repent, He doesn’t give us the punishment our sin deserves by sending us to Hell. Instead, God gives us grace. He gives us something we do not deserve. He lets us live in Heaven with him forever.” Now, I know this is a very simplistic explanation, but my audience was all under the age of seven, and half of them had their shoes on the wrong feet.
Our thrilling encounter with the police officer happened less than ten minutes away from the airport. We were soon turning into the extended stay parking lot, our predetermined meeting point. Happily, my husband and the rest of the mission team were parked and waiting just where they were expected to be, and we still had a couple of hours before our plane’s departure time.
Spreading Good News
Bursting from the minivan, my tiny disciples couldn’t wait to tell their dad all about the exciting lesson on mercy and grace they had. Not wanting to boast in how excellently I had incorporated God’s command to teach our children “when you sit at home and when you walk [drive] along the way when you lie down and when you get up,” I busied myself with unloading the suitcases from the back of the van. Okay, I was hiding from the mirthful smirk I knew was going to cross my husband’s face.
That mission trip was a wonderful, unforgettable experience for all. But most memorable for my family was that drive on our way to the airport.
