You Are Not Alone

A young Christian university student was home for the summer. She had gone to visit some friends one evening and the time passed quickly as each shared their various experiences of the past year. She ended up staying longer than she had planned and had to walk home alone. She wasn't afraid because it was a small town and she lived only a few blocks away. As she walked along under the tall elm trees, she asked God to keep her safe from harm and danger.

When she reached the alley, which was a shortcut to her house, she decided to take it. However, halfway down the alley she noticed a man standing at the end as though he were waiting for her. She became uneasy and began to pray, asking for God's protection. A comforting feeling of quietness and security wrapped around her, and she felt as though someone was walking with her. When she reached the end of the alley, she walked right past the man and arrived home safely.

The following day, she read in the newspaper that a young woman had been raped in the same alley just twenty minutes after she had been there. Feeling overwhelmed by this tragedy and the fact that it could have been her, she began to weep. Thanking the Lord for her safety and to help this young woman, she decided to go to the police station.

She felt she could recognize the man, so she told them her story. The police asked her if she would be willing to look at a lineup to see if she could identify him. She agreed and immediately pointed out the man she had seen in the alley the night before. When the man was told he had been identified, he immediately broke down and confessed.

The officer thanked her for her bravery and asked if there was anything they could do for her. She asked if they would ask the man one question. She was curious as to why he had not attacked her. When the policeman asked him, he answered, "Because she wasn't alone. She had two tall men walking on either side of her."

The Juggler and the Drunk

Late one night, a Highway Patrol officer pulled over a car for speeding on the Interstate. When the officer asked the driver why he was speeding, the driver answered that he was a magician and a juggler and he was on his way to “Make A Wish” event and didn’t want to be late.

The officer explained to the driver he was fascinated by juggling, and if the driver would do a little juggling for him that he wouldn’t give him a ticket. The driver told the officer that he had already sent all of his equipment ahead, so he didn’t have anything to juggle.

Not deterred, the officer said that he had some flares in the trunk of his patrol car and asked if he could juggle them. The driver said that would be fine, so the officer got three flares, lit them and handed them to the driver.

Meanwhile, the bars had just closed in the nearest town, and a somewhat over-served patron was heading down the Interstate on his way home.

Witnessing the roadside juggling performance, the bar patron pulled off the road and parked carefully behind the patrol car. After watching the juggler for a moment, the tipsy bar patron then went over to the patrol car, opened the rear door and got in.

Observing this, the officer went over to the patrol car, opened the door and asked the man what he thought he was doing. The drunk driver replied, “You might as well just take me to jail, cause there’s no way I will never pass that drunk-driving test."

Speeding Home

Speeding Home

This is an older story but it's a must-read for anyone who never has.

Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often?


When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand.


Bob? Bob from Church? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow.


Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.


"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."


"Hello, Jack." No smile.


"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."


"Yeah, I guess." Bob seemed uncertain. Good.


"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit - just this once."


Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"


"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct." Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.


"What'd you clock me at?"


"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car, please?"


"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.


"Please, Jack, in the car"


Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window.


The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad.


Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license?


Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.


"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.


Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost?


Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke?


Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to read:
"Dear Jack, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it- a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters, all three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again.


A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Jack, my son is all I have left." -- Bob


Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.

How Fast Is Grace?

I have an American friend whose experience gives us some insight into the doctrine of the grace of God. He had just returned from Vietnam where he had served in the US Army. Upon his release he had sufficient funds to fulfill a long-time desire to own a new Jaguar. 

Early one morning he was driving in a remotely populated part of Oklahoma which, he reasoned, was the perfect place to find out how fast the car could go. The speedometer was easing its way past 160 as the powerful sports car reached the top of a small rise. Just beyond, a highway patrolman was waiting. As a law-abiding citizen, my friend slammed on the brakes, slid past the officer at 150 miles per hour, and came to a halt some distance down the road.

Before long, the officer caught up and stood beside the sleek convertible. 

“Do you have any idea how fast you were going?” he inquired. 

“Well, roughly,” was the deliberately evasive reply. “One hundred sixty-three miles per hour!” the officer specified.

“That’s about what I thought,” my friend confessed, somewhat sheepishly. Guilt was obvious, and there was no possible excuse to be offered. My friend could only wait to discover what this fiasco was going to cost. He meekly waited for the officer to proceed. 

To his amazement the patrolman queried, “Would you mind if I took a look at that engine?”

The fine points of high performance automobiles cannot be discussed quickly, so both went on to a coffee shop where they could talk further. 

A while later, both of the men shook hands and went their separate ways. My friend was elated, for the officer had not given him a citation.

That is about as close to grace as one can come on this earth, but it is still not quite up to the standard of biblical grace.

(I say that because biblical grace would be demonstrated only if the patrolman had paid for the coffee.)

Big But Not So Smart

A newly deputized police officer responded to a report of a bar room disturbance.

The "disturbance" turned out to be well over six feet tall and weighed almost 300 pounds.  What's more he boasted that he could whip the deputy and the "Heavy Weight Boxing Champion of the World."

Said the policeman, "I'll bet that you're also an escape artist too; probably better than Houdini."

The giant nodded.

"If I had some chains," the deputy continued, "you could show us all how strong you really are.  But all I've got is a set of lousy handcuffs. Why don't you show us just how quickly you can break out of them?"

Once in the cuffs, the man puffed, pulled and jerked for four minutes.

"I can't get out of these," the giant growled.

"Are you sure?" the deputy gingerly asked.

The fellow tried again.  "Nope," he replied.  "I can't do it."

"In that case," said the deputy, "you're under arrest."

What Shall We Sing?

A down-and out-musician was playing his guitar in the middle of a busy wharf.


Striding over, a policeman asked, “May I please see your permit?”


I don’t have one,” confessed the musician.


“In that case, you’ll have to accompany me.”


“Splendid!” exclaimed the musician. “What shall we sing?”

How often we assume that our listeners understand what we are trying to say. When that does not happen, we become confused as to what has gone wrong. It is always the responsibility of the encoder (the one who speaks) to make sure that his message is properly received by the decoder (the one who receives the message).

Police Officer Testifies

If you ever testify in court, you might wish you could have been as sharp as this policeman. He was being cross-examined by a defense attorney during a felony trial. 

The lawyer was trying to undermine the police officer's credibility.

Q: 'Officer --- did you see my client fleeing the scene?'  

A: 'No sir. But I subsequently observed a person matching the description of the offender, running several blocks away.'

Q: 'Officer -- who provided this description?' 

A: 'The officer who responded to the scene.' 

Q: 'A fellow officer provided the description of this so-called offender. Do you trust your fellow officers?'
 
A: 'Yes, sir. With my life.'

Q: 'With your life? Let me ask you this then officer. Do you have a room where you change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?'

A: 'Yes sir, we do!'

Q: 'And do you have a locker in the room?'  

A: 'Yes, sir, I do.'

Q: 'And do you have a lock on your locker?'

A: 'Yes, sir.'

Q: 'Now, ... why is it, officer, if you trust your fellow officers with your life, you find it necessary to lock your locker in a room you share with these same officers?' 

A: 'You see, sir -- we share the building with the court complex, and sometimes lawyers have been known to walk through that room.'

The courtroom EXPLODED with laughter, and a prompt recess was called.

He who digs a hole and scoops it out falls into the pit he has made. (Psalm 7:15)

Silly Excuses

Philadelphia Highway Patrol officers hear all kinds of creative excuses that drivers give for speeding. Here are some of the officers' favorites. By the way, none of them worked.

A man told the officer he was rushing to the hospital because he had been stung by a bee, and was allergic. "There's the bee right there," he said, pointing to his dashboard. The officer looked. The bee was not only dead, but in an advanced state of decomposition.

An officer stopped a man doing 80 mph. When he asked the driver whether he had seen the speed-limit signs, the man responded, "I went by them so fast I probably missed them."

A man going south on I-95 was stopped near Washington Avenue doing 79 mph. "My engine misses, and I'm trying to clean out the carburetor," he told the officer. For good measure, he added, "If I don't go this fast, my car won't go at all." 

 

"I'm due in traffic court," one speeder said. "If I'm late, they're going to enforce the bench warrant."

When an officer told a speeder that the speed limit on the Schuylkill Expressway was 50 mph, the driver responded, "Officer, where have you been? It's 65 now."

One speeder said simply, "I'm trying to beat my wife home. Don't ask."

An elderly person was stopped after doing 73 mph. When told he was getting a ticket, he asked the officer, "Is there a senior citizen's discount?"

(from Cybersalt)