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The Jailed Saint

Pastor Scott wore his tether as he walked while escorted through the gates like the tether were a honorable signet around his right ankle. Yes the tightly secured clamp gave Pastor Scott pain and constant discomfort and a consistent reminder he is under house arrest for administering a service during a quarantine lockdown. His tether also instilled pride in Pastor Scott and a sense of empowerment or a greater respect for his role as a spiritual leader to everyone who looks toward him.
Pastor Scott had to get used to how the policemen referred to him as a prisoner while they moved him out of the general population. The police were in no way offering Scott no respect or no favoritism due to his office as a reverend. Scott tried to see the Lord's will in that and he did in how the policemen handling him were not being abusive or persecuting. So, Scott was making the wise move not to be predictably defensive toward the police or the Governor. After all, Scott's sentence was only to stay at his residence and never again call on his congregants to gather at the First Baptist Church.
The policemen tugged Scott to their car of course beaming with the red and blue spinning lights. One large hand on Scott's head insuring he did not bump it along the edge of the back seat doorway. The hand almost felt like God's own hand to Scott.
" Sit back please, sir. Get comfortable." the officer advised Scott before slamming the door shut. Scott didn't like having the car door slammed on him. Made him lose something in himself. Was it his appreciation for the police? Scott looked down at his tether and murmured a prayer, he was alone to do so: " Heavenly Father, help me to be humble for You as I bear this tether and these handcuffs. Lead me away from thinking of myself anyway better than these policemen or anyone else they arrest."
Scott flashes back to his night spent in jail. He was Pastor Scott living his first night in incarceration. The entry part went well seeing Scott had police escorting him through the subsequent doors of the precinct. Scott recalls the odd sense of excitement he even felt at being fingerprinted and photographed for his mug shots. Being the inmate at center to these legal procedures and the subject of so much energetic banter between the operating policeman proved oddly flattering to Pastor Scott. He didn't care if the said attention was tarnishing, it imparted onto him a certain validity for he was important to the police and to the State as a whole.
Once the fingerprinting and mug shot photography were over, the police lead Scott away into a holding cell until Scott's attorney were to call the precinct in his defense and with the authorization to bail Scott out of jail. Knowing well he had much time to wait in regards to when his attorney would be calling, Pastor Scott turned his back to the locked door of the holding cell and looked on at the men he was sharing the holding cell with.

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