The Walk of Shame

I love going to church for some obvious reasons.

1) Worshiping Jesus.  You know him?
2) Learning about Jesus.  
3) Seeing friends

But I have a secret. There is one not-so-obvious reason I love going to church.  Want to know it?

Each week, my drive to church takes me past our local jail. 

Hi, criminals! Jesus loves you!

Accompanying my weekly drive by, is the weekly showing of at least one coed doing their jail-time walk of shame.  

You know the walk I'm talking about.  The one those silly college do after they have a sleep over in the drunk tank.


They all look the same, after their harrowing night.  Be it a guy, or be it a girl, the situation is the same.  Allow me paint the picture for you.

Pat is not sure what is going on. Pat is squinting, and walking down the street.   Not having a car won't stop Pat from getting as far away from the jail as fast as Pat's hungover legs will carry shim.  

What's that Pat is doing?  Oh that's right, s/he's on the phone begging for a ride.  All the while, Pat can't shake the look of embarrassment, confusion and bile stained party shirt shim is wearing. 

I might sound a bit (ok, very) cruel, but I believe this is a priceless gift I get to enjoy just about every Sunday.  

I am sorry to say I have not taken pictures. By this time I could have a small scrap book of images.  Perhaps I should start?  Or at least start pulling over and invite them to church.

Either way, I am glad to finally be on this side of that lifestyle.  

Look mom, no handcuffs!

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