My day yesterday was another filled to the brim with responsibilities and duties, one of which was a trip to Lowes. Still entangled with a big sunroom do-over project, I was appointed to make the trip to buy a truckload of drywall, insulation, and a variety of other things. With list in hand, I grabbed my purse and gave it a quick look-see. Oops. I had taken out my wallet the day before and locked it in the center console of the car--Gary's car. I called to report my error and inform him that he would have to do it after work. I had a track meet to coach.
With my schedule somewhat tidied, I retreated back into the office. But it wasn't for long. "Hey," Gary said when the phone rang. "I have cash in our hidden spot. You can still go get the drywall." I swear I heard him crack a dastardly grin through the phone. Ugh.
"But my license. I won't have it to drive there," I countered. He probably heard my smirk.
"Too bad, so sad. You have to drive into school to get it from my car before the meet anyway. It will be fine."
Resigned to my criminal destiny, I was particularly careful about my speed en route to the store. I was quite sure that my brainwaves were transmitting signals that police scanners would intercept. I felt stripped naked without my trusty wallet. If I got stopped, I really couldn't say I was on my way to get it. Hum. Surely, a police officer would understand the importance of a truckload of nasty drywall.
Thankfully, I made it home without incident. My terror at the thought of drywall sliding off the back of the truck as I went up each hill, drawing unwanted attention from the authorities, finally dissipated as I pulled into my spot in front of the house. I had gotten away with my despicable behavior.
Later in the afternoon, I once again got behind the wheel and headed out, this time to actually retrieve my license. I was so relieved when I finally had that wallet in my hot little hand. Whew. Jail time avoided. I resolved to always check for that item before taking the first step to the door.
My resolve was real. My intentions good. Unfortunately, as I got out of the car and headed into Lowes again this morning, I reached into my purse for the sales receipt of an item I was returning. To quote a pop star, "Oops. I've done it again." No wallet. It was still in the bag I took to the track meet. I wanted to scream. But back in the car I went, driving home license-less. Brain transmissions peaked as I scanned the horizon and the rear-view mirror for flashing lights and blaring sirens. However, I once again avoided an encounter with the law. I was grateful.
I broke the law even though I didn't get caught. But the simple fact is that that one transgression, as insignificant as it may seem, labels me as guilty. That reminds me of Romans 5:12, memorized long ago in Awana Club. Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned— Poor Adam. His sin made us all guilty.
But, praise God, it is by one man's death that we are declared righteous. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God’s grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! (Romans 5:15b).
Hallelujah. What a Savior. My very own, personal Savior.
For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.