Getting Caught. . .

I was a jail chaplain for 18 years, in the local county jail. Over those years, I would speak with one or two inmates a year, who would relate to me the horror of their life in bondage to their meth or crack addiction. They would tell me that in their despair, how they had prayed, “Dear Lord, get me out of this lifestyle”, and in a few minutes they would find themselves in handcuffs in the back of a squad car.

Jail. . . otherwise not necessarily jail, but getting caught, can be a blessing. Over my years as a chaplain, lives were changed. People did find freedom from their bondage while incarcerated.

Thinking back over my life, I wasn’t caught every time I did something wrong, but I was caught often enough to let me know that a life of crime wasn’t going to be profitable for me.

The first memory I have was that we lived in town and there was no school bus service. We had to walk to school. We lived almost two miles away. A friend of my’s sister was in high school, and gave her brother a ride to our junior high school, but I was forbidden to ride with her, and I obeyed. . . until one day. . .

That morning, for the first time, I walked the couple of blocks to my friend’s house, jumped in the driver’s side back seat, and enjoyed the forbidden fruit of riding instead of walking to school. As we crossed the intersection of Lexington, and SW Blvd. a bicycle ran into the side of the car, hitting the passenger door/window right by me. I saw the face of the bike rider against my window as he hit the car.

The young man was thrown to the ground. He immediately got up and began running around, but it was clear that he was injured. The police were called, and an ambulance came taking the young man to the hospital, with we later learned internal injuries. We also later learned that he was a special education student, on his first day riding his bike to school. He hadn’t been watching, and ran into the side of our car from a side street.

I don’t remember exactly how, maybe because we were so very late arriving to school, but my parents found out that I had disobeyed them and rode to school rather than walked, and had been in an accident. I don’t remember what trouble or punishment I received for my disobedience, but obviously the experience stuck with me. . . lesson learned. . .

The second occurrence was a couple of years later. I was in high school. I was walking back from downtown. I don’t remember, but I had probably been playing pool at the local pool hall. It was winter, and dark, maybe 8 or 9 o’clock, and it was very very cold, zero °f or even below. I had never done this before, but I stuck out my thumb hoping to catch a ride home. The first car that came by was a police car. The officer rolled down his window, and read me the riot act. . . telling me how dangerous hitchhiking was, and that I should never do that, and then he drove off, leaving me standing there. . .Absolutely the first time I ever tried to hitch a ride, and that was the outcome. . . again another lesson learned. . .

The third happening, again I was in high school. I think I was a junior. I was sixteen years old. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was walking across the Main Street bridge, smoking a cigarette, when a car pulls over, and rolled down the window. It turned out that it was an unmarked detective car. The officer asked how old I was? I replied, “sixteen.” You know that you’re not old enough to be smoking don’t you? I don’t know what I replied. . .I had no problems buying cigarettes. He had me get in the car, and he took me home. He walked me up the driveway, and knocked on the door. My mother answered, and he said that he was Officer so and so with the Elkhart police department. My mother, if I remember, gave a little shriek, and began weeping, possibly figuring I’d held up a liquor store or something equally serious. It was with relief when he told her that he had caught me smoking on the Main Street bridge.

Now to put this in perspective, the high school sophomore division was at that time, right across the street from the city courts building, and between classes, and at lunchtime all the smokers at the school would go across the street and smoke on the courthouse steps. Lawyers, judges, uniformed officers, and yes even detectives would walk in and out of the courthouse surrounded by smoking high school students, and I never heard of any being accosted for smoking underage.

But there you are. . . again I was caught bigtime for a seemingly minor infraction. . . These events impacted me significantly. Over my later years I had people give me drugs, cocaine, LSD, etc. and I was scared of them. . . knowing that these were serious offenses to be found in your possession. I never took any of them. I have a very addictive personality. I had big problems with alcohol use, and tobacco. I think how differently horrific my life might have been if I had started using the cocaine given to me.

I believe these occurrences were the hand of God upon me. . . Protecting. . . correcting me even when I denied His existence. . .

Look back on your life. Look for His guidance and protection. . .

I love you my God. . .

<3

Dave