DPS Salvation

Today was the day I had to go to the Department of Public Safety to get my driver's license renewed. Since I have a commercial license, I have to go through this renewal process before I can go to a tag agent and get my new license. The process was very egalitarian. If you want fair, this was fair. It was tough and impersonal for all. When you came in the door, you stopped at a table and stated your business to a lady who didn't care if you stayed or left, as long as you followed the rules. The rules were the same for everyone. Show two forms of ID, fill out the short form, take a number, return the clipboard, and sit down while waiting for your number to come up. My number was 417 and they were calling for 389 as I sat down. After an hour and a half I completed the seven minute renewal procedure and left with a sheet of paper that entitles me to go to the tag office tomorrow and get my new license. There were people from many different ethnic origins, from all age groups, and all over the economic scale. No one was treated any better or worse than anyone else. I came directly after attending a funeral so I still had on a jacket and tie, but I was given no more consideration that the guy with his "pants on the ground." And I hated it. I have to admit that I have grown used to getting some preferential treatment in most areas. In restaraunts, golf courses and doctor's offices, my nice appearance and seeming affluence has helped expedite matters for me on more than one occasion. It was somewhat deflating not to join in "the look" at the slobs who don't know how to conduct themselves in public while being escorted past them to a preferential place.

It came to me as I sat next to a couple of young people with funny colored hair and multiple piercings who were making out in the chairs next to mine that I was being viewed much as God views me (aside from the part where He loves me unconditionally). He is no respecter of persons. The outside means very little to Him. He looks on the heart. I can't see the heart. I can only see externals. The lady at the front table saw only people to be processed. She didn't care what I looked like or if English was my first language or not. She let me know what I had to do to get my license renewed: I had to believe that I was at the place I had to be to get renewed, have my identification ready and the willingness to wait until the process completed. Nothing else was important.

I used to think that going to the Department of Public Safety was a glimpse of hell. It might be a glimpse of salvation.