The grace and mercy of our God are amazing, indeed. One Saturday evening I was driving along the Pennsylvania Turnpike with my wife Jackie, and another couple who are dear friends. We were on our way from my pastorate in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to Cleveland, Ohio, for a wedding rehearsal. As the sun was setting behind the western hills, we sang Sabbath-closing songs and rejoiced over the blessings of the day.
Well, when you are having that much joy, if you are not careful, your speed might just exceed the limit—and mine did. Rounding a curve, there sat one of “Pennsylvania’s Finest,” a state trooper. It soon became evident he desired to have a conversation with me. I politely pulled to the right shoulder of the highway and awaited the familiar, “Would you please bring your driver’s license and auto registration, and join me in the cruiser?”
The trooper sat in the cruiser and observed me reaching into the trunk of my car for my wallet, which was in my leather Bible case. As I climbed into the passenger side of the cruiser he asked me, “What kind of work do you do?” I was surprised at this because I expected him to ask for my documentation, which he had requested. I stammered out somewhat ashamedly, “I am a pastor.” “Oh, what church?” he asked. Now, truly embarrassed, I said, “Seventh-day Adventist.”
Without further hesitation, he reached into the back seat where he had a briefcase, flipped open the lid and drew out a Bible. “Read me your favorite text!” he barked. I nervously turned to John 16:33 and read, “These things that I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”
The trooper took the Bible from my hands and said, “My favorite is right across the page.” And he read John 15:11 to me, “These things I have spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.” We then began to share the goodness of our Savior and His marvelous grace. Those waiting in my car were just sure I was getting the “book thrown at me.” If they only knew what book!
The trooper shook my hand, and we made a pact to meet in Heaven one day. He drove away and I, a bit dazed, returned to share the good news with my traveling companions. Now to receive no ticket was mercy, but I drove away under grace. I deserved a ticket, but the unmerited favor gave me mercy. I could then continue my journey on the Pennsylvania Turnpike because I was under grace. As long as I obeyed the laws of that state I had my freedom, and I was not about to destroy the gift of mercy and grace that were mine.
How about you, dear friend? God’s mercy and grace are extended to us each day. Please accept His mercy and live obediently under His grace.
