The Tale of Two Visits

My stomach churned, my shoulders were bent under the weight of worrying and fretting and remembering.Why would I have to attend to such trivial details of a legal requirement when I wasn't the one who even wanted the van?

I begged my husband the summer of 2001 not to purchase a new van, I didn't think we needed yet another monthly payment when we were just barely making ends meet, and besides, he had already made clear he was not interested in remaining as part of the family. Why burden himself down even more with another bill? At the time, all those many years ago, I thought my logic quite astute.

Turns out, my instincts were amazingly correct. He left, I got a van and a payment booklet, and now more of the consequences of a disappearing husband were upon me. Three visits to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) resulted in the same legal requirements as the police officer shared so kindly with me when he noticed my expired registration sticker. "Ma'am you are supposed to keep your vehicle registered every year". Who knew? I certainly had paid all the bills on time, taken care of all the payment coupons, properly threw in the trash all things 'husband' related. Who knew that Delaware no longer sending expiration notices would collide simultaneously with a new legal twist requiring the owner of the vehicle needing a properly maintained drivers license?




Did I mention David refused to put the car in my name when he purchased it?



This backdrop was how I ended up looking for a cheap parking spot on a bitterly cold Monday morning before work and before my temporary tags expired and my stomach hurled. Clearly all the memories that I had tucked ever so neatly in the corner of my brain marked 'do not enter' were beginning to leak out rather forcefully.

Found my $2.00 an hour parking slot and trudged up the hill to the Courthouse. Oh, where is the courthouse, by the way? Wilmington is not that huge of a metropolis, so
this should be simple, and yet when I hiked the hill leaving my unowned and unregistered vehicle in the parking garage, I couldn't find the right building!Probably it would have been helpful to google it or even raise my head and look around as I walked, but I was burdened down and discouraged from the memories and undealt with issues of anger.

A very kindly gentleman pointed me in the right direction, and looking back I can see that even he was placed strategically at the top of the hill, his dark skin and graying hair even making me think he resembled my Joshua in a few years time. His response was precious to my spirit and I found myself smiling as he said , " Ma'am, if you believe me, and I do know, the building you require is just down the street to the right, if you believe me".

I believed him.

Going through the metal detector without alarms blaring was a relief, since I had convinced myself that the unsmiling guards probably hated all middle-aged white women. They never even looked up, so that theory was a bit over exaggerated.

Once inside the Courthouse the bustling life of others took over and threw my depression and discouragement out the window! I was one of so many people, all moving without facial expressions or animation. Most people were so purposeful in their walking that I could find barely anyone to ask where I should go!

Calmly I stood in line of the first room I was aimed toward, by a lady who assured me everyone with my paperwork needs should start here. Filing and records, it appeared, was the dump off zone for all things unknown. Winding around the line had a humorous touch when the lady behind the desk, easily available for me to walk over toward, looked at me and pointed to the exit sign and said (as if I were not standing there looking at her) "Would you all please stand in an orderly line over against the wall if you are waiting for me?" "Through that exit sign?", I asked, thinking she was joking. "Of course" was her retort. So the one other man and myself walked around and through and stood for a full minute as she shuffled papers and then looked up and said " Next".

Wrong department. I heard that several more times as I became an amused bystander of all things legal. Finally a woman who made it clear this was not her job, deemed it worthy to sign my title and stamp her certified stamp on it for the requirements of the law.

As I left the Courthouse, thanking God for this weight being lifted from my shoulders, I took note of the faces around me. Finally my burdens were lifted so I could care about the people around me with more empathy and understanding.
There were no smiles, no happy carefree laughter, no joking. There were unhappy countenances and frowns and shoulders sagging. There were people with heads lower than mine, bent down from years of legal requirements piling upon them.

In a country whose legal system is curiously complicated for the casual observer(me before needing to know), there is a group mentality of obedience. Cell phones were left at the door, people did jump through the hoops and security checks, standing in line and being dealt with rudely or dispassionately was acceptably never challenged.
The poorest of poor, the richest of rich, all things family court followed all the rules. Simply sad and amazing to me. What relief to walk out those doors!! I nearly ran to my van, was charged only $2.00 by my unsmiling friend in the payment booth and fairly flew to my job. The title was signed into my name after 8 years, and I was able to move on to the next step in the ladder of legalities.

Well, if you know my style, this missal isn't stopping here. I got to thinking. Dangerous, as my dad would have said, with a wink and a hug. (I miss him, too.)

On Sunday I drove myself and my creaking non-owned van , to church. I love church and I love Jesus Christ, Who is the reason for me going to church, but oftentimes the preparation for worship is set aside and I become complacent. I knew God did not require church attendance, nor even think poorly of me when I missed for my own noble reasons. Took me years to accept that notion and I am embracing that particular truth now with much enthusiastic joy! He loves me! He wants to have me worship Him! He loves me when I do and when I do not!! Such freedom in faith.



When I arrived I was greeted so warmly at the door, with offers of assistance and I thanked my friends and moved to the sanctuary. Smiling faces were everywhere and I was finding it difficult to decide where to sit, since each spot seemed cozier than the next. It was so bitterly cold outside and so warm inside! What a haven for my weary soul.

After the service and powerful sermon about trusting God to direct His world and allowing me to rest and ride as He drove,I was approached by a deacon friend concerned as to my car situation. Offers of assistance and smiles of help were plentiful and unasked for. Someone had a lead on a free car, but it might take a week or so, would that be a possibility? Burdens left as I entered the doors of church and love replaced them. My head and shoulders lifted higher each time a friend gave me a hug. One new girlfriend just walked up to me upon hearing of my troubles and just held onto me in a tight embrace. Believe me, for a single woman , an occasional non-threatening hug can be all the doctor ordered for sanity.

OK, dear reader, and fellow journeyman, where am I going with this? because I am always going someplace. :-)

The Courthouse represents the LAW. The Church represents the GOSPEL.

Since I lived out my stunning contrast this week, my head has been overwhelmed with thoughts about the parallels, similarities and contrasts of life.

The old gentleman on the right corner pointing the way, should I believe him, reminds me that each of us has a person pointing them in the right direction, are we believing him? The door through security reminds me that Jesus Christ calls Himself the door, and we are secure when we pass through. The law is always requiring one more thing in order to be satisfied, my church requires nothing of me and my church represents the highest authority, the Sovereign God Himself. The warm and cozy church was such a contrast to the cold and uncaring courthouse. Everyone in their own world , frustrated and fed up, such a contrast from the many friends insisting that helping me was not a bother but a delight.



As for my car: the requirements of the state laws have finally been met- four visits to the DMV, one to the courthouse, $105.00, a traffic stop and a few tears later.

As for my soul: PAID IN FULL stamped across it. Jesus Christ gives me a free ride to eternity. Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift. There are still tears.