Saturday, September 15, 2007


I've been going to the same chiropractor off and on for seven years here in Ft. Lauderdale, but not anymore...

Yesterday afternoon my neck was like a pretzel, so I stopped by the chiropractor's office on my way home from class (I had a 12:00pm appointment). I parked the car and walked up to the office entrance, but was abruptly halted by a police officer as I reached to open the door. "Are you a patient here?" demanded the female officer. She had enough gadgets, vests, badges and guns strapped to her to re-take Normandy. "Uhhh, yes ma'am" I stuttered in reply, taking a half step backwards. "The office is closed right now, but I need to ask you a few questions." "O- Okay." As she took my deposition, I examined her badge more closely: "US Treasury Department- Special Agent."

"What's your name, sir?" I answered and she scribbled my name on her notepad while I snuck a peek at the glock 9mm strapped to her side. "What's the best phone number to reach you at?" My eyes darted back to hers as I responded. "What kind of payment plan do you have with this office?" I glanced over her shoulder through the glass door and saw two other officers inside rummaging through files and desks, which made me cautious in my reply: "I pay monthly."

Question after question finally ended when another patient approached the door. Special Agent GI-Jane had a new target, or witness or, suspect... who knows... Anyway, I was dismissed without much explanation about what was going on. I've become friends with one of the doctors there over the years, so he called this morning to tell me there was apparently something bogus going on with the office's billing and taxes. He was ticked off because he and his wife are both suddenly jobless due to someone else's negligence and dishonesty. The raid came unannounced and without apology.

I spent all morning working in the yard, dwelling on what had happened. And it tormented me all the more when my thoughts turned introspective and I began to examine my own integrity: "What would be found if my life was suddenly raided today? No announcement, no warning, just investigators rummaging through every corner of my life. What would I be charged with?"

I may not be guilty of money laundering, tax evasion, or for that matter anything illegal by the US Justice Department's standards, but it worried me when I considered the standards of justice to which I'm truly accountable. It may be a silly picture, but think about it: if God sent special agents into your house, into your marriage, and into your office; if God Himself was the captain of an exhaustive investigation into the files on your computer... what kind of hell would you be in? Would you be suddenly jobless? Would your reputation be tainted? Would your wife still admire, family still be proud of, and friends still associate themselves with... you?

The depth at which my heart was troubled was alone enough to convict me; if I were blameless and "above reproach," I wouldn't be bothered by
daily visits from God's entire investigative staff. But as it is, I know there are dark corners of my mind and heart that need correction before I'm prepared for such a raid.

Dr. D. James Kennedy passed away last week Thursday. At his memorial service, one of the speakers said, "There was nothing in James Kennedy's life that would embarrass the name of Jesus." I want that said of me at my funeral. Not that I will be able to perfect my every flaw, be sinless, or anything like that. But just to know I was not only at rest in the grace of Christ, but also wholly blameless to the best of my ability in
this life.

"Keep your servant also from willfull sins; may they not rule over me. Then I will be blameless, innocent of great transgression." (Psalm 19:13)
(See also I Timothy 3:2, Psalm 15:1-5, 37:18-19, 108:1-8)

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