The Justice System

Nothing is better than a breath of fresh air—freedom in your hand and the sun over your head.

This all started about a month ago when I was driving home from work and I was hit by an oncoming car (to put you at ease, all parties involved are absolutely fine, there were no injuries and everything has been taken care of). This was my first major accident. My brother’s car was totaled and I honestly thought I was going to die. I didn’t. I was unscathed—thank you God and thank you seatbelt. But I was given a ticket and had my license taken until the court date.

For a month I turned down the onslaught of two invitations to grab a drink because I had no form of identification. I was afraid to run the Chicago Marathon because I didn’t want to have a brain aneurysm during it just in case I had some unseen injury I didn’t know of (yes, somewhat morbid). I was also afraid that they wouldn’t let me get a beer after crossing the finish line because I didn’t have identification on me. I didn’t really want to drink a beer, but if they were giving it out for free, I’m Asian, I can’t turn it down.

Life didn’t seem to stop, there was one event right after the other in these past couple of months. I guess that’s just how life goes though, if it stopped it’d be death, no?

Thankfully (sorry if this might offend someone who doesn’t believe, but this is America and the interweb—I have the right to freedom of speech), God rules over life and Jesus already conquered death. So, nothing to fear, everything’s being taken care of whether I realize it or not.

But in all honesty, God has really been present and watching out for me. The accident could have been a lot worse, and the aftermath of the situation could have taken a drastic turn for the worse, but it didn’t. Everything worked out. Everything was okay.

My court date was this morning. I had to stand before the judge and state my case. I was all nerves, no bones, just nerves. My body was shaking and my heart beat in quick little bursts. I scanned the room to see if the other driver was there—but all white girls look the same and I just didn’t know. I just didn’t know.

I know that the worst thing that could happen is I get a ticket, I pay for it, and I might have a blemish on my record. But it all seemed so daunting. I don’t speed. I’m a very cautious driver. I’m a good, law-abiding citizen. How could this have happened to me? It all seemed like too much.

The judge called my name. I responded with a loud “Here!” I walked up to the gate. And I waited.

I waited to be ushered to the podium in front of this no nonsense, bald man. The judge. I showed my documents. The girl was not present. He dismissed the case. I was free to leave.

Just like that. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t do anything. It all probably took a matter of 10 seconds.

And then my family and I walked out of the court house into the brisk November air. Free. No ticket fine, no court fee. Nothing. Scott free.

And some day I’ll have to stand before God and be judged again. And this bald, no nonsense man I stood before this morning is just a human, but extended so much grace—not only to me, but to a lot of other cases. Granted, this was just traffic court (my dad says it’s not real court), but he is a real judge nevertheless.

A judge who knew nothing about who I am, nothing about my case except for what was written on a yellow slip of paper, who didn’t know anyone in that courtroom, allowed so many people to walk out with a dismissed ticket or with a just fine as penance.

But God knows our hearts. He has shaped and molded every small detail of who we are, and what we go through. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and understands us. So, then, how much more merciful will God be when we stand before him? How much more grace has he already extended to us?

I can only imagine. Nothing could be better than a breath of fresh air—my license in my hand and a heart filled with grace and mercy.

L.

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