What's My Crime?
The shame that I feel weighs heavy on my soul. I've never been so embarrassed or humiliated. The bed I'm sitting on is rock hard with only the thinnest of mattresses between me and the slab. A filthy sink stands in the corner with a stainless steel toilet next to it. The walls are painted a putrid shade of green highlighted with various forms of profanity. The bars, what can I say about the heavy steel bars.
I was arrested last night and temporarily sentenced to a night in the local jail. It all started after the Wednesday night church service had ended. As far I knew I was just another face in the sea of people making their way out of the auditorium. What I thought was an ordinary evening was about to end.
I caught a glimpse of the two officers coming down the aisle. They stopped a few folks as they left. I assumed they were asking them questions, about what I had no idea. After a brief conversation, a bony finger would be pointed in my general direction. As the police officers drew closer a deep paranoia began set in. I started to think they were looking for me. A myriad of questions raced through my mind. Was everything okay at home? Was someone hurt? What could they want? Was my car stolen? Would they give me a ride home if it was?
"Sir, would you come with us please," came a deep voice from behind accompanied by a tap on my shoulder.
"Sure. Is everything okay?"
"Sir, we're placing you under arrest," the first officer said leading me to the back of the auditorium. "You have the right to remain silent. If you chose to waive that right anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you do not have one or can't afford an attorney one will be appointed to you. Do you understand your rights as I explained them to you?"
"Yes, I do," I answered.
"A few of these folks wish you would have remained silent an hour ago," the second officer said as a menacing little grin came to his face.
"What are you guys talking about? It was a wonderful service. What could these folks have against me," I asked. "And by the way, could you have waited until we were outside. This whole thing is a little undignified. You're humiliating me in front of my friends and church family."
"Sir, please don't matters worse," said the first officer. "Please take my advice and only speak with your attorney present."
"This must be serious if I need an attorney," I exclaimed. "Would you at least be kind enough to tell me what I'm being charge with?" As I spat those words I felt the handcuffs cinch down on my wrists. I could never have thought I would ever hear or feel handcuffs.
"You're being charged with disturbing the peace," said the first officer. "Evidently some of the folks in the congregation have taken exception to your singing. They think it best for all parties that you be arrested and put behind bars."
So here I sit in my cell waiting to see the judge. The whole mess started because I can't . . . .
I awoke, startled by the buzzing of my alarm clock in my right ear. Good grief it was all a dream. Thank you Lord for rescuing me from that nightmare.
With one eye closed and the other a little bleary, I took a peak at the clock. Five in the morning and time for me to start my day. Against all odds I pulled myself out of bed and I made my way to the bathroom. I smiled as I looked at the face staring back at me in the mirror. The one donning the ever stylish 'pillow-made' morning hair-do.
"Thanks for hearing the songs that my heart sings for You my King," I murmured to myself. "My voice may not be perfect but my singing is given for Your glory and praise. Thanks for listening to my heart and for making it sing."
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