Not long ago, I was doing my job. I mean my regular, full-time job, which is registering people into the hospital. You would think that it is a boring, repetitive, unspecial job. I admit it, sometimes I think it is. Sometimes, just to be honest, I am so tired that when I look up and see yet another patient coming to register, I almost start cursing inside my head. And then there are times that are so different from that.
There are some patients I've come to know by name and look forward to seeing. One of them is a doctor who was in a traumatic car accident. I first met him when he was still living in a rehab with a halo screwed into his head. He was unable to even sign his own paperwork. I've seen him so many times that I now remember to call him "Dr." instead of "Mr." and he is doing much better. There is a lady who always has to give me something when she comes in. The first time it was a green piece of candy that had been in her purse so long that it had little specks of dirt on it. The next time she gave me half a box of tic-tacs. The next time it was a tootsie pop. Then there is the guy who comes in every so often and he has told me his life story. Even though he has had a number of back surgeries and also has HIV, he never complains. And he starts singing, "Hi Jennifer!" from halfway across the room every time he comes in. I really could go on and on but I won't. I just want to tell you about a guy who I've only seen once but I will never forget.
I was sitting at my desk while there was a lull in the patient load. When I looked up at my next patient, it was a man in a wheelchair. He wore an oxygen tube in his nose and an undershirt with pajama pants. Both he and the woman with him reeked of stale cigarettes. He looked so dejected that I felt sorry for him. His wife (?) was obviously the one in charge and did all of the talking.
As with every patient, I asked him for his insurance cards and picture ID. The woman in charge helped him get his insurance card and then proceeded to dig through his wallet for an ID. In the meantime, I was busy pulling up his information in the computer. When I turned back to them, she slapped down a card and stated rather loudly, "This is the only ID he has." I tried to keep a blank face as I looked at the card, the first one I had seen of its kind. In big red letters across the entire card it read
OFFENDER.
I really am not sure exactly how many thoughts and questions went through my head at that point but I know it has stayed on my mind until even now. I looked at this frail little man in a wheelchair and wondered what he possibly could have done. And how long ago was it?? I wondered if it was necessary to carry that card forever. Didn't he ever have a chance to get a "normal" ID? What in the world?! Most of me just thought it would have been better to say, "He doesn't really have an ID" and leave it at that.
So, I don't mean to compare this woman to the devil in any way, but isn't that what the devil does to us? He stands over our shoulder, whips out our "OFFENDER" card, and slaps it on the table in front of us at every opportunity. We sit there feeling beat down and breathless, unable to look anyone in the eye because he won't let us forget for one minute the things that happened in the past. However, the bible says,
"for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus." Romans 3:23, 24.
My mother used to tell me that "justified" means "just as if I'd never done it." Christ died for me so that it would be just as if I had never sinned. Yet sometimes I still tolerate the devil hanging around and pointing out my past mistakes. Maybe you were an offender. All of us were. Maybe you made mistakes. All of us have. Maybe there is something in your life that can not be undone, no matter how you wish it could. I've been there too. You sit there looking at the floor, barely able to move out of your regret. And that is just where the devil wants you to stay. He hangs over your shoulder to make sure of it. But guess what? I don't have to do deal with that and neither do you.
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold all things have become new." II Cor. 5:17.
The reason I don't have to deal with it is because I have a new ID. When the devil tries to whip out my old offender ID, I pull out my new ID that trumps anything he has. My new identification lets everyone know who I am now, not who I used to be. I am a new creation and I can freely identify myself as a daughter of the King. If you have accepted Christ, don't continue to carry around your offender card. Christ died to give you a new ID and it's time to hold your head up and start using it!
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