They Plopped the Baby

Distinctly Amidon

Theology in the Trenches

By Kathleen Kjolhaug

 

“Nation’s Smallest County Seat” is what the sign boasted. Passing through this sparsely populated portion of the world brought us smack dab through the town of Amidon, North Dakota. Slowing as we entered, I noticed it. The cop car was sitting just off the road to my left, and like any law abiding citizen, I began to slow down as I did not want to get ticketed.

 

Just behind the wheel, I noticed the recognizable form waiting like prey. The bubble sitting atop the car like a cherry on a bowl of ice cream was still, for the moment, and obediently, I paced myself. Gas was high enough without having to add the cost of a traffic ticket to my trip. The brown brimmed hat couldn’t be missed as I tried to focus on my driving. I did not look to the right. I did not look to the left. I tried to look straight ahead…but I just couldn’t help myself. I had to peek to see if the officer inside was looking.

 

Perhaps on any other given day I might have been more confident, but running a red light the day before hadn’t helped. I had been passing through yet another town up the road when I drove right through the unsuspecting red light. I was half way through the intersection before I even took note. It was at that point I knew I’d been busted. There was a police car facing polar opposite me. Momentarily, my breathing stopped. Pulling over to the side of the road waiting for him to turn his car around and write me a up was instinctive. I was ready to take the consequences I deserved, but funny thing was…he kept driving. He was, by all intense and purposes, busy looking at the big truck to his right, and when I passed by on his left, he failed to see me.

 

I’d not been caught. Not harming another or myself was a gift. However, today, I made sure I was in line with the rules while passing through Amidon. My speed was within the limit, there was no stop light that I could see, and I was paying full attention. As I drew nearer…I noticed something odd. The brown brim on the officer’s hat in the car looked a bit tattered, and he slouched at an odd angle. In fact, his head all but bobbled downward, and it was at this point I looked directly at him.

 

Brilliant! I thought. What a great way to safe guard a town. Someone had placed a stuffed manikin behind the wheel of a police car posing as an officer. I smiled for the next fifteen miles down the road.

 

Being ready to slow down, speed up, or stop for a red light all pale in comparison to what Matthew 24:4 says. “So you also must be ready because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you least expect Him.” Amen.